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hazelfoureyes · 1 month

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The most important question of all: What type of drunk is everyone in the hotel?

Deeply held personal beliefs here lmao

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹ Alastor

𖦹Alastor loves being the center of attention and he drops his need for an air of mystery when he’s a few fingers deep into the rye. He grabs unwilling participants by the wrists and swing dances with them, despite their clear lack of understanding on how to swing.

𖦹He hums and sings under his breath while sitting in a comfy chair.

𖦹Loqacious! Vaggie would like him to shut the fuck up, Charlie is alarmed because he always reminisces about his real life murders like discussing a loving partner long gone. He is a talkative drunk through and through.

𖦹 Next day: No shame the next morning. Everyone’s annoyed and he might be a little sheepish, but ultimately he doesn’t care.

𖦹Smutty: Never lets you top, but once he’s had a few and has relaxed, will happily lie back and let you take care of yourself with his body while he watches you. Rarely vocal during sex, he’s suddenly talkative and showering you in groans and moans.

Lucifer 𖦹Lucifer doesn’t drink. He really doesn’t. Oh geez, okay well if Charlie is asking so sweetly and everyone else is what’s the harm in-

𖦹Shirt unbuttoned halfway, everything he says sounds like a double entendre even if it isn’t. Cannot stop flirting, even accidentally. The flirty drunk has arrived.

𖦹He stays put, picks a chair or stool and just hunkers down, watching happily over the gathering.

𖦹Pet names for everyone. CharChar, Magpie, Legs, Whiskers, Bambi… Niffty is just Niffty. Even drunk he is a little scared of her.

𖦹Next day: No hangover, excitedly and nervously listening to all the stories of things he did. “Yeah that sounds like me hahaha”

𖦹Smutty: Slow love making, takes his time and moves over you like molasses. Doesn’t care about finishing, just likes the feeling of being close to you and hearing the sounds you make. 50/50 you fall asleep together with him still in you.

Angel Dust

𖦹Angel handles his liquor like he’s handles his men; with an open throat and a smile. It’s genuinely hard to tell if he’s drunk unless he’s so gone his pitch of voice has changed. 𖦹With a little inebriation, he’s leaning into his friends and talking really openly about his feelings and problems in life. 𖦹Drunk? Like— drunk drunk? He’s loud and hanging on everyone for stability. Every grin borders on sleazy, but if the wrong person made a move they’d get four hands to the face pushing them away. Alastor thinks he is the life of the party; Angel is the party.

𖦹Next day: Angel has no memory of what happened the night before and even if he does he will just pull his sunglasses down and pretend he doesn’t.

𖦹Smutty: Angel likes drunk sex, because he can feel his body disconnect from his mind. His eyes would be unfocused, and no matter the lover his gaze would always be at the ceiling. His attention purely on the sensations his body was offering him. He’d be quiet, just enjoying himself.

Husker

𖦹Husk is usually ornery, but when drunk he becomes the wise old man who wont stop talking to you like a kid. Husk, I’m a grown ass adult? Ha, in my day you would still be in diapers. That doesn’t make any sense Husk. Sense? Your lot don’t know shit about sense.

𖦹When he isn’t pretending to be everyone’s drunk Gandalf, compliments flow like booze from a tipped bottle. You’re real pretty when you smile. Wish I saw more of it. — That’s what I like about you, you always get back up.

𖦹Husk is always topping up everyone’s glass, and even when drunk he’s the one who registers when someone’s had enough. On many occasions he has replaced Angel’s drink with just orange juice and soda water when he wasnt looking, too drunk to notice.

𖦹Next day: Yesterday didn’t happen, order a drink or get the fuck out of the bar.

𖦹Smutty: Husk doesn’t like sex when he’s drunk, he doesn’t like the implication anyone may not be fully aware of what’s happening. He’ll cuddle, caress, kiss, but no sex unless you’re relatively sober or you had explicitly made plans to enjoy a drunken romp. In which case, he relishes in changing positions often to find new ways to make you gasp out his name. Tipsy or not, his hands are always steady.

Charlie

𖦹Charlie is the happiest drunk to exist. Her confidence sores with a little liquid courage. She’ll clamor onto the bar and declare she is going to redeem all of Hell, making the Pride ring a glorified bus stop between death and the pearly gates.

𖦹Clumsy. She talks with her hands and spills her drink everywhere. Constantly running into things with her hips and feet. She will trip over nothing, and apologize to the air for the misstep.

𖦹Charlie oscillates between talking nonstop to being dead silent, big doe eyes watching intently as you speak. She’s hanging on every word.

𖦹Tells everyone she loves them, then cries about how much she loves them.

𖦹Next day: Hungover, doesn’t understand why people drink so often, this sucks. Slightly embarrassed about getting up on the bar but otherwise has no issues knowing she doted on everyone.

𖦹Smutty: The Morningstars are similar in that they take their time. They need to hear every little gasp, every held breath. Charlie would spend hours exploring the places she could make bring you pleasure. Little giggles from between your legs as she gives herself mental pats on the back.

Vaggie

𖦹Drunk Vaggie is similar to Sober Vaggie. Serious but caring, and relatively quiet. She wouldn’t become overly showy or loud. Your only indication she’s been drinking is the slight slur to her words and the way her hands tip her drink a little too much when talking.

𖦹Goes on full rants about heaven if the topic comes up. Just bashes the hypocrisy and curses her fellow angels.

𖦹Slips more into Spanish, her words dipping between the two languages.

𖦹Little more handsy, resting her chin on her darling’s shoulder and letting her hands come around their waist while they are talking to people.

𖦹Next day: Needs everyone to shut the fuck up and turn the lights off. She swears she’s never letting Angel mix her drinks again. Mortified to hear she was necking in the lobby.

𖦹Smutty: Drunk Vaggie just wants to kiss and hold you, enjoying the way the room spins a little around you both as you lose track of time. She’s down for more, but only if you’re taking the lead.

Niffty

𖦹Please stop handing her drinks.

𖦹Fuck, she’s drinking other people’s drinks when they aren’t looking.

𖦹She’s dusting the ceiling, she’s vacuuming the sofa, dear God she’s scrubbing Angel’s hands with pure bleach shrieking, “Diiiiirty.”

𖦹Unhinged. More so. Somehow. Makes everyone a crown of trash.

𖦹Next day: is she still drunk? No? This is just her natural state of being?!

𖦹Smutty: Bad boys welcome, everyone else can get shanked.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @alitaar , @maddiemouse-1226 , @christineblood , @zombiesnips-blog , @readergirlstuff

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor hazbin hotel #niffty #husker hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor headcanons

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edges-of-night · 9 months

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I just found your post and im in loove with your writing so o wanted to know if i could ask this.

What would the characters react if a Modern!reader has a scar or something from her childhood ( of theyre wild child like me) and would they though someone hurted her?

Kudos from Brasiil

Thank you, I’m glad you like the blog! Enjoy your post!

This one doesn’t have that huge bunch of gifs I’ve been using before – let me know what you like better, if you have a preference.

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn would treat your scars with great respect and never ask any questions about them, knowing they could potentially hurt you. It is no great deal for him though; he doesn’t think less of you for having scars!

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen would have a silent fascination for your scars, as Elvish healing powers make it impossible for Elves to develop scars. She’d let her fingers ghost over them if you let her but never speak of them, unless you want to.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir bonds over your shared scars. He’d tell you battle stories for every one of his. In turn, you could tell him yours. He’d find it charming to hear you’d been a wild child like he!

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

Elrond does not talk about your scars or even look at them, until you would initiate a conversation about them. He just accepts you have them, possibly thinking of the wounds they once were and how he would’ve treated them.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

Éomer would worship your scars, no matter how you got them – through work, fun, or battle. I like to imagine scars carry a deep meaning in Rohirrim culture. Éomer would go on and on about how Human they make you, as opposed to an Elf with healing powers. He would be sensitive if someone had hurt you, causing the scar.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Just like her brother, Éowyn would show great respect and admiration for your scars. But unlike him, she wouldn’t push the topic, knowing that you could have potentially emotional memories to them. If someone had caused you a scar by hurting you, she’d curse that person.

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

Faramir is the kind of person to place deliberate kisses on your scars. He knows how insecure they can make one feel about their body, and he will have none of it with you – you’re gorgeous just the way you are ♡

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo has a very casual attitude toward scars. He accepts that you have them and doesn’t pull the attention onto them. He would probably ask you about them, after a long night you’ve had at the Green Dragon, but he’d always stay respectful and considerate – he’s a gentleman after all!

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

I imagine Galadriel having an almost morbid curiosity about scars and their place in the Human system of healing and mortality. She’d ask if she can take a closer look at them, talking about them, and even has clothing or headwear made for you that shows them off.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf would casually ask you where you got your scars from, as an attempt to normalise conversation about them. If you signal him that you would rather not talk about it, he’d let it be, but otherwise, you could have a deep conversation about them with him. Should you wish to have it removed, he would cook up a spell that could do that.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Dwarves think highly of scars, as they symbolise both brashness and hard work. Gimli is no different. Should you ever feel insecure about your scars, he’d happily show you his and assure you that there is nothing shameful about them, with a big grin!

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir avoids even glancing at your scars. He is both polite enough to not stare and troubled about the implications – Humans cannot heal the way Elves do. He could lose you to a wound that wouldn’t even be an issue to an Elf, and he cannot stand that thought. He also wracks his brains about someone having hurt you, as opposed to simply asking about it.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas would take the issue of your scars very lightly. That also means he could potentially bring up hurtful memories, since the concept is so new to him. However, if you told him that, he’d immediately apologise and distance himself from the subject.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry thinks your scars are super cool! He’d be the first in line to say things like, “They make you look adventurous!” Depending on how sensitive you are about them, he’d tone it down, of course. Still, he’d rather have you with them than without.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin probably has a bunch of scars himself, being both clumsy and a troublemaker. He’d ask you about your scars in a way that turns into a ‘ping pong’ game, with you taking turns with the stories you want to share with the other.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam has a big scar himself that he is rather insecure about. Bonding with you helps him accept that part of his body – though he would still blush how he got it, having defended Rosie Cotton from some ruffian at the Green Dragon.

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verk0my · 9 months

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okay so I’m rereading the hobbit and I want to make a list of my favorite quotes and parts so here we go:

“bilbo (…) got something a bit queer in his make-up from the took side” I chuckled

“mr. baggins was very fond of flowers” of course he was he’s a blorbo

“it was a beautiful golden harp, and when thorin struck it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that bilbo forgot everything else” bombastic side eye

“as he lay in bed he could hear thorin still humming to himself in the best bedroom next to him. bilbo went to sleep with that in his ears, and it gave him very uncomfortable dreams” criminal offensive side eye

“the explanation did not seem to explain” my brain 24/7 (but also when someone’s trying to explain the rules of any board game to me)

“bilbo was wearing a dark-green hood and a dark-green cloak borrowed from dwalin. they were too large for him, and he looked rather comic” bilbo in dwarven clothes, just throwing it out there

“bilbo baggins, a bur — a hobbit,” said poor bilbo, shaking all over, and wondering how to make owl-noises before their throttled him” this one made me laugh

“trolls simply detest the very sight of dwarves (uncooked)” this one too

“his house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all” I want to go to there

“dori, who was at the back next to bilbo, and a decent fellow. he made the hobbit scramble on his shoulders as best as he could with his tied hands, and then off they all went at a run. (…) that sent them on faster than ever, and as poor bilbo could not possibly go half as fast, they took it in turn to carry him on their backs” WE WERE ROBBED

“why, o why did I ever leave my hobbit-hole!” said poor mr. baggins bumping up and down on bombur’s back “why, o why did I ever bring a wretched little hobbit on a treasure hunt!” said poor bombur” comedic duo

gandalf answered angrily “I brought him, and I don’t bring things that are of no use” we love a supportive friend

“(gandalf) gave bilbo a queer look from under his bushy eyebrows” live gandalf reaction

“you ought not to be rude to an eagle, when you are only the size of a hobbit” good life advice

“here they sat on wooden benches while gandalf began his tale, and bilbo swung his dangling legs and looked at the flowers in the garden” a short king <3

“that only makes eleven and not fourteen, unless wizards count differently to other people” I LOVE BOOK BEORN SO MUCH and this whole chapter is probably my favorite by far

“the hobbit felt quite crushed, and as there seemed nothing else to do he did go to bed” what a mood

“long noses are sometimes useful you see” do with that information what you want

“they knew only too well that they would soon all have been dead, if it had not been for the hobbit; and they thanked him many times” AS THEY SHOULD, too bad thorin didn’t see any of what happened

“he did not like being dependent on by everyone, and he wished he had the wizard at hand” honestly, same

“never laugh at live dragon, bilbo you fool” another hopeful advice

“you are more worthy to wear the armour of elf-princes than many that have looked more comely in it. but wonder if thorin oakenshield will see it too” ouch

“then bilbo turned away, and he went by himself, and sat alone wrapped in a blanket, and, whether you believe it or not, he wept until his eyes were red and his voice was hoarse” this one hurts

“he was in fact held by all the hobbits of the neighbourhood to be queer” of course he was :D

#this is going to be a long post #hope you’re ready #the hobbit #the hobbit book #the hobbit reread #tolkien reread #tolkien #favorite quotes #text

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frodo-with-glasses · 7 months

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More Reading Thoughts: A Long-Expected Party

There’s something so incredibly endearing about the slow, meandering beginning of LotR.

Even today—in a day and age when every author tries to grab you by the eyeballs in the first five words—Tolkien’s writing still has that gentle, irresistible draw that takes you by the hand and leads you slowly but surely into adventure. Something about a “birthday party of special magnificence” just appeals to all our inner children, I think; and the tiny mysteries, and the joy of a world of fantastical creatures living in peace and comfort, just adds to that. You want to go to Middle Earth, and you want to get lost in it. It’s like a lazy river at a water park; you wade in, get settled, and relax, and the next thing you know you’re far away from where you started.

All of that to say, Tolkien’s writing is goals and I aspire to be even a fraction of what this man was someday.

Anyway. To the bullet points!

Isn’t it hilarious how quick people are to begrudge one another their good fortune?? If Bilbo had been poor and died in a timely manner his neighbors would probably have liked him just fine, but he gets a lot of wealth and lives a long time and all the hobbits go >:-(

They’re not wrong to be suspicious, of course, but it’s still a biting social commentary. And very funny!

“As Mr. Baggins was generous with his money, most people were willing to forgive him his oddities and his good fortune.” 🤣

“You should come live with me so we can celebrate our birthday parties more comfortably together” belongs in the same category as C. S. Lewis’ “and they got so used to arguing that they married each other to keep doing it more conveniently”

“And suddenly, all the old people found that everyone actually WANTED to hear their rambling stories!”

GAFFER GAMGEE MY BELOVED

Hobbits are all so terribly prejudiced. What endearing morons.

Ooh, confirmation that Bilbo and Frodo look similar!

“There never was much to tell of him! … Till he was drownded.” “DROWNDED??”

I love that the only things we know about Drogo Baggins are that he was unremarkable and fat and married a strange woman

The Gaffer: “Thank goodness Mr. Bilbo saved young Mr. Frodo from those strange, dastardly Bucklanders…”

Meanwhile, Merry feels his eye Twitch and doesn’t know why 🤣

The spelling of jewels as “jools” is adorable for reasons I can’t describe

Tiny Gaffer Gamgee saw Bilbo come home from his Adventure!!

The Gaffer’s words are strangely prophetic. Sam did indeed land in trouble that was bigger than him—and thank goodness he did.

The Gaffer basically says here “if generosity is being strange, we could do with a lot more strangeness!” and honestly that’s a motto I want to live by

I love that Sam is most likely the one who started the rumor about the fireworks X-D

I wish we’d gotten to see the Dwarves visiting Bag End in the movies. It’s a shame they were cut. Imagine what cool costumes they could have had!

“G for grand!” and Gandalf’s smile. Ugh, my heart 🥹

Pity that September 22nd fell on a Friday this year. We were so close to it being a Thursday, like in the book! Oh well. Try again another year, I guess X-D

Are small business owners grumbling about your purchases from foreign parts?? Here’s an easy solution! Just BUY OUT THE STOCK OF EVERYONE FOR MILES AROUND IMMEDIATELY AFTERWARDS

Also the fact that the post offices are absolutely flooded 🤣 Bilbo, you madlad

“Old Gaffer Gamgee stopped even pretending to work on his garden” LOL

The brief paragraph of NOOO BAD WEATHER THE DAY BEFORE THE PARTY is honestly spectacular. It’s so nerve-wracking for just a second there—which is hilarious in light of the war and death and GIANT SPIDERS we’re going to read about. I think it has a flavor of Tolkien’s beliefs on eucatastrophe hidden in there—it’s not out of Bilbo’s own effort that the weather cleared up just in time for his party, it was just happy providence—but I’m too tired to write an essay about it right now.

“Half the Shire’s been invited…and the rest of them are turning up anyway!”

The hobbits who came through the gate again to get a second present 🤣🤣🤣

“The hobbit-children were so excited that for a while they almost forgot about eating.” That’s impressive!!

I love that some of the toys are dwarven-made. That’s such a cool detail that makes the world seem both fantastical (because dwarves!) and real (because you can Amazon order toys from them!) at the same time.

The names of the fireworks!! Especially the ones that are onomatopoeia, like “backarappers”! It just makes brain go ✨✨✨

Pfffft, yellow rain

There’s the express train reference!

Notable difference here: in the movies, the big dragon firework was set off ahead of schedule by Merry and Pippin, and all the hobbits freak out. In the book, the big dragon firework is set off right on time to signal supper, and all the hobbits freak out (but are immediately pacified by food).

Small detail I’d like to see in more fanfics: “Bilbo had been specializing in food for many years, and his table had a high reputation.” Yes, the idea of Bilbo and Frodo eating like the bachelors they are is hilarious, BUT! We have textual evidence to the contrary! I don’t know if this line means that Bilbo was a magnificent cook himself or simply hired magnificent cooks, but either way, it’s canon that the Bag End bachelors ate like kings!

“The feast was so incredible that everyone was incredibly full and took home leftovers and no one bought any new groceries for weeks. The good news is that Bilbo had bought out all the grocery stores anyway, so it was fine.”

Why is the detail about the golden buttons on Bilbo’s waistcoat so enchanting to me?? I really think this chapter just activates the Inner Child Mode in my brain, and suddenly even something as simple as shiny buttons becomes beautiful and magical. Also it’s just a lovely way to paint a vivid picture in my mind.

I’m so glad they kept so many of the jokes in Bilbo’s speech for the movies 🤣 “PROUDFEET!!”

And now here we see Tolkien, author of the fantasy epic that has defined the genre for a century and counting, unironically using caps lock. Folks, you can’t make this crap up.

The sneaky way Tolkien says Bilbo vanished before he mentions the flash of light is Very Good and hints at the fact that there’s something else at work here

Rory Brandybuck is the G.O.A.T.

“But at the same time he felt deeply troubled: he realized suddenly that he loved the old hobbit dearly.” Aww, Frodo…

Incredible that the debate between Bilbo and Gandalf over the Ring takes up almost four pages, but it doesn’t feel like it. Excellent suspense.

I wonder where Gandalf is going “to bed”. It doesn’t look like he’s staying in Bag End, so did he get a room at an inn somewhere? Is he sleeping in his cart??

Also it’s implied later in the book that Gandalf the White doesn’t sleep. Inconsistency?? A slight untruth?? Secret powerup to Gandalf the White that we’ve overlooked??

“The sun rose. The hobbits rose rather later.” Pffft

The SHADE in all the presents oh my WORD

Except for the ones for the poorer hobbits. Bilbo’s gift for the Gaffer is so simple in its contents, and yet so generous and thoughtful 🥹

MERRY MY LAD

MY FAVORITE HOBBIT (don’t tell the others)

How old would Merry have been here?? Like nineteen?? Incredible that he was already such a logistics guy that Frodo trusted him to keep an eye on the house while all the chaos is happening.

“Do you hear that, Merry? That was an insult, if you like.” “It was a compliment, and so, of course, not true.” HAHAHAHA DRAG HIM MERRY

“IF YOU DON’T LET ME IN, FRODO, I SHALL BLOW YOUR DOOR RIGHT DOWN YOUR HOLE AND OUT THROUGH THE HILL” 🤣🤣🤣

Frodo: “I’m so sorry, I thought you were Lobelia!” Gandalf: “Understandable, have a nice day”

“I would give them Bag End and everything else, if I could get Bilbo back and go off tramping in the country with him.” N’aww, Frodoooo 😭

“Look out for me, especially at unlikely times!” Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.…

“Frodo did not see him again for a long time.” Ooh, ominous.

#chapter review #gaffer gamgee #bilbo baggins #gandalf #frodo baggins #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing

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specialagentlokitty · 7 months

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Fili/Kili x sister!reader - unlikely bonds

Hey, I really want to request a Fili + Kili x sister reader however I know there aren’t female dwarfs, so maybe they come across a young elf who is stranded in the middle of nowhere. They take her in and plan to return her to her kind, however along the way they grow very close. Perhaps they never find her family, and so they try and find someone who will take her on however she doesn’t want to leave them. - Anon💜

A/N: italics will be elvish

If there was one thing you had learned being in the middle of nowhere it was not to trust anybody you came across.

So, when a small group of travellers stumbled across you, you were quick to ready your weapon, and they did the same thing.

“By the time you get near me I’ll shoot you all down where you stand.” You sneered.

The tallest of the group raised his hands.

“We mean you no harm, we are just travelling.”

“I do not care, go around.”

“We cant. The passage on the other side of the mountain is full of danger, it is not safe for anybody to go that way.”

You narrowed your eyes a little bit, shooting an arrow at the foot of a blond dwarf who attempted to move closer to you.

“It is not safe for a young elf to be out here in her own either, do you have company?” The taller one asked.

“It is none of your business.”

He smiled a little.

“Perhaps not, but I worry about leaving you behind. Perhaps we can accompany you to the nearest village?”

You stared at him in shock.

“You understand me?”

“Oh very well, I good friend of my taught me the language. Perhaps you know of Lord Elrond?”

You nodded.

“I do, many of the elves do. He was very well known in our small village. Who are you?”

“Where are my manners? I am Gandalf.”

“I see, I recognise your name, and I know of your quest.”

Gandalf smiled to you.

“So will you allow us to escort you safely to a village?”

You had heard stories of the wizard, and of his recent adventure with the dwarves and the halfling.

Though the idea of travelling with dwarfs didn’t appeal to you, you knew it was safer than trying to travel on your own with no map and little food.

So you nodded.

“Yes.”

“Wonderful, let us get aquatinted.”

You realised how much you didn’t get along with dwarves and why elves and dwarves didn’t get along.

While you were clean and organised and polite, they were messy, chaotic and at the best of times rude.

But it was the two younger dwarves who caught you attention, they were nosy of course, but they did their best to respect you and stayed away from you when eating or when you were taking a few moments to relax.

But of course they couldn’t fully stay away, they just wanted to be friends.

“Come on, surely you can tell us something about your village.” Fili said.

“Exactly, what was it like? Where is it?” Kili asked next.

Glancing at the two smaller men next to you, you went back to eating your dinner.

“I cannot tell you where it is, and there is not much to say about it. It was a small village hidden away so we could live in peace.”

“Is it like Rivendell?” Fili asked.

You shook your head.

“Nowhere near as elegant. While Rivendell hides in the mountains, and Mirkwood in the forests, my village preferred between two raging rivers where people could not cross and plants were plenty.”

“Well how did you get there?” Kili asked.

“Leave the lass alone.” Balin scolded.

He gave you a small smile and rounded the two young dwarves away from you so you could eat.

It was like a routine, they would sneak away to join you but eventually get dragged back by one of the others.

And soon enough you grew used to their company, and enjoyed having them around.

Before you knew it you had been travelling with them for a while, and Fili and Kiki had adopted you as their own.

“What if we take you to a nearby elf village and see if one of them can look after you?” Thorin asked.

“The nearest one is too far from your mountain, you needn’t trouble yourself.”

“Do you not wish to return home?” Dwalin asked.

“Of course I do, but my village is long gone, I do not know where my family is. I do not mind travelling with you all.”

“It is nice having somebody to talk to.” Bilbo smiled.

“If we take a detour we may never make it in time.” Fili said.

“Which is why I will carry on travelling with you.”

The dwarves seemed conflicted.

“I don’t understand what the issue is.” Bilbo whispered.

You knelt down next to him.

“It is because compared to many of my kind I am young, not quite an adult, not quite a child. They do not want to travel with somebody so young, even though I am in fact around the same age as most of them.”

Bilbo nodded a little bit.

“It’s just not safe, we don’t want to put you in danger.” Kili mumbled.

You smiled at him.

“My brother, I will be okay.”

Thorin looked at you.

“When we pass the next town we will find somebody there to take you in for the meantime.”

You sighed.

You couldn’t protest with the dwarf king, it was not your place.

So you simply accepted it and made the most of the time you had with the group.

Stopping at a town, Thorin began going from door to door, asking people if they would be willing to house you.

“You will stay here where you will be safe.” Fili said.

You narrowed your eyes.

“I will follow you.”

“You can’t, Thorin as spoken. You are to stay here (Y/N).” Fili sighed.

You shook your head.

“Yes he may have spoken about me travelling with you, but not about me travelling alone.”

Kili grinned a little.

“She has a point, he never said she wasn’t able to travel by herself. Perhaps she just happens to be going the same way.”

“You know he will disapprove!” Fili hissed.

“He would never see me!” You whispered.

Fili looked at you.

“Do not encourage this!”

You frowned a little.

“I do not want to leave you to do this alone…”

The dwarf sighed, sitting next to you but the fountain.

“I know, we do not want to leave you either, but this was we can assure you are safe.”

You glanced at him.

“I cannot assure you are safe though, so I must come with you. Perhaps I will never find my family again, perhaps I will, but you two have become my family, and I cannot let you leave like I did the others.”

You stood up, looking at them both.

“Whether you go with or without me, I will still follow you there. I will make my way to that mountain myself if I must.”

They both smiled at you, getting up to hug you, and you hugged them back tightly.

“We will talk Thorin around.” Fili whispered.

Because truth be told, they would stay if you couldn’t go with them.

You were their best friend, their sister, and they needed to make sure that you were okay as well

#the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit imagine

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mirkwoodshewolf · 1 year

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Love’s treasure; Kili x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so this has been sitting in my inbox for awhile but I finally got the inspiration and time to do this fic after getting the boost from another Kili and Fili request as well as my Celestial story. So @sweetpeapod thank you for your patience and hope you see this fic and enjoy it as much as I did writing it these past couple days.

Synopsis: Reader is Aragorn’s older cousin (I imagine by 11 years so she’s about 21). Gandalf knew of her skills as a Ranger for both tracking and navigating and sought her out to be apart of the company.

NO WARNINGS REALLY JUST SOME FLUFF and a bit of angst from parental death/abandonment.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@queen-paladin

@queensdivas

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

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I observed the dark blue bead in my hand and pondered just how it had gotten lost. It was a game I’ve always like to play, anytime I would find a lost object or weapon I’d always come up with a good story on why it got lost and whether or not the owner of said object is out there scouring Middle Earth for it’s safe return.

“What are you up to sister?” I looked up and peeking from behind the Elvish statue was my baby cousin Aragorn, or better known for his safety Estel. Yes, Aragorn the future king of Men is in fact my cousin on his mother’s side (she is my father’s younger sister).

“I thought you were to be in your studies with Lindir? He’s taken a great deal of time and effort to educate you little one.” I lectured him with a raised brow as he came and sat down beside me on the bench.

“But I already know of the founding of Rivendell and how to speak Elvish.”

“Then tell me who was the mentor of Lord Elrond?” I replied in Elvish. He looked at me puzzled before he crossed his arms pouting.

“I don’t like you no more.”

“Oh yeah not the first time you’ve said that to me. Or the time after that or the time after that.” I playfully reprimanded him lowering my voice to as deep of a baritone as I could muster while tickling his sides making his squirm and laugh. “What was that you were looking at earlier?”

“What? You mean this?” I said picking up the bead. He looked at it with curious eyes and asked me.

“Where did it come from?”

“Why don’t you answer that question. Where do you believe this bead came from cousin?” he stared at the bead, pondering over it. His tongue slightly peeking out from his lips as he said.

“I believe…..this bead came from some merchants who were on their way to the Blue Mountains when suddenly trolls from the North ambushed them and gobbled them all up, leaving only this bead.”

“Goodness child! You really believe such a cruel fate came to innocent merchants?” he nodded. “Alright, then I’m going to have to speak with Elladan about changing your bedtime stories.”

“No please (Y/n). He tells the best stories don’t make him stop!” I smirked softly and said as I ruffled his head.

“Very well Estel. Now care to help me braid this into my hair?” he nodded as I sat down onto the floor so that he could properly braid my hair before putting the bead on it.

“Where do you think this bead came from sister?” he asked me.

“Well little one I’ve been putting a lot of thought into it. And I think this bead might hold more meaning than meets the eye. I believe this bead was once part of a Prince’s clothing ensemble. My story is that he fell in love with a woman but wished to give her not gold or jewels for her hand, but something more meaningful to him. So he took this bead from his clothing to present to his love. However, when he went to present his gift to his love, he had overheard of his love being taken by orcs while she was out for a ride on her horse. In his haste, he dropped the bead hoping to rescue his love in time.”

“And did he? Did he ever save his true love?” Estel asked me as he paused in mid-braid.

“I’d like to say they did. And the two of them are living together in the comforts of their newly built home hoping to raise a family together.” We both turned around and there stood Kili.

“Prince Kili!” exclaimed Estel as he raced over to the young dwarf prince. Kili smiled at my cousin and ruffled his head playfully before greeting him.

“Hello there Estel, being good for your cousin I see?”

“(Y/n) was telling me of a bead she found while out on your travels.”

“So I overheard. Hope it’s alright if I added a small opinion to your story.” He said turning to me.

“I’m always open to new suggestions. I tend to leave mine in a mist of mystery. Drives this little one nuts.”

“She never seems to want to finish the story with her trinkets and earnings.” He whined.

“One day lad you’ll see that sometimes it’s better when things are left to the imagination, instead of always having a one-sided ending.” Kili said to Estel.

“And speaking of story endings, it’s best that you get back to your studies with Lindir. He’s probably already alerted Lord Elrond of your skipping’s. And you know how Lord Elrond is that you keep up with your studies.”

“Aww! But Kili only just arrived.” Estel whined.

“Tell you what lad, you head back and finish your studies. Then once you’re done, meet me and my brother in the training grounds and we’ll teach you how we Dwarves battle off orcs and goblins.”

“Can I sister please?!” Estel begged me clasping his hands together and looking up at me with those bright blue eyes of his.

“If your mother and Lord Elrond say it’s alright.” Estel cheered before racing off and bidding us goodbye. I playfully shook my head, “I swear that child is more like a rabbit than a boy. Always full of energy and on the move.”

“Ahhh let him enjoy it. He is young, soon he’s going to grow and lose that sense of wonder and joy once he gets out into the real world.”

“You didn’t.” I teased as Kili gawked and softly laughed.

“True, but there are times where I wish I could go back to the days of my childhood. Me and Fili battling out against dragons and orcs and winning without any consequence of the outcome.” I nodded in agreement. “So what was the bead that you and your cousin were discussing the origins of?” I then showed Kili the strand that Estel had braided for me which held the dark blue bead in my hair.

“I had found it just shortly before we had a run in with those trolls. Saw it hidden just beside a small patch of rocks. Figured it was worth keeping rather than letting it be forgotten amongst Yavanna’s earth.” When I turned to Kili I saw that his eyes were widened and his jaw seemed tense. “Kili? Kili?”

“Huh? What sorry I-I was…..I have to go.” Suddenly he turned his back and hastily left the garden. My head tilted confused as to why he had left so sudden without another word? I shrugged before sitting back down to admire the bead.

*Kili’s POV*

She had my bead. (Y/n) had my family bead, not only did she have it but she was wearing it. Could-could it mean? No that’s impossible! There’s no way a Ranger of the North could fall for someone like me? But then why would she place my bead into her hair and have it braided?

“…..li? Oi Kili!” I snapped out of my daze to see Fili and Bofur standing before me in what appeared to be a den area of the Elvish realm. All over the place there were beds and wooden furniture carved to perfection.

“You looked about as lost as a lamb there lad, everything alright?” asked Bofur.

“I—well I’m beginning to question that myself.”

“What is it Kili? You’re not ill are you?”

“No Fili, well not in the normal sense of illness.”

“Ahh-hahaha I think I know.” Bofur said. “You, Kili, have fallen under the sickness of love. And I think I know just who it is that has caught your affections.” Bofur wiggled his brow towards my brother as I let out a groan.

“It’s not like that!”

“So you don’t have feelings for (Y/n)?” asked Fili. I did a double take towards my brother and said to him.

“Wait you—you knew?”

“Your my brother Kili. You may have always been a flirt back home but never before have I seen you act around a woman the way you do with (Y/n).” I felt my face heat up as I said to them.

“It’s not just that.” They both looked at me perplexed. “Remember how I had told you Fili that I had lost one of my beads that mother gave me?” my brother nodded. “It turns out (Y/n) had found it. Not only that but after just recently talking with her, I had seen that she had braided it into her hair.”

At that confession, they both began to understand the gravity of the situation.

“Surely she must not know what it means to us. I mean you see a bead and the first thought is to braid it into your hair. Surely she can’t know what it means to us, does she?” I asked nervously.

“I wouldn’t be knowing Kili, but if I am honest with yah, I think she might feel the same about you.” Bofur said.

“How would you know Bofur?” I snapped.

“You may not know it laddie, but that lass will look at you when she knows you’re not looking. And I see the same loving look in her eyes that you give to her.”

“You’re jesting Bofur. There’s no way she looks at me like that!”

“I wouldn’t be too sure brother.” Fili said. I turned to him as he continued, “Remember back with the trolls? When they were going to put you onto the spit, (Y/n) fought to take your place.”

“But wasn’t that because we’re part of the same company? She’s just looking out for us. That’s her nature. Her kind, caring, motherly nature.” I trailed off as I felt my heart skip a beat.

“All I’m saying brother is maybe you should talk to her.”

“And how should I start it off? How about saying something like, ‘Greetings (Y/n), you know the bead you’ve got in your hair in that braid? It’s actually my family bead and by braiding it into your hair you’ve agreed to be my wife. Will you marry me?’ No.” I scoffed the last part. “I can’t force that onto her.”

“I’m not saying lead on with that. But maybe just talk to her and see if there is any mutual feelings between the two of you. If there is, you’ll finally be happy with her. If not, then at least you’ll have your answer.”

“And if it is a rejection that comes my way? How do you expect me to cope with it? She’ll never look at me the same way again.”

“Even if she does reject your affections Kili, I doubt (Y/n) is the kind of person to make whatever bond she makes feel inferior to how it was before. But like your brother said laddie, you’ll never know unless you talk to her.” Bofur said.

I looked at the two of them, took a deep breath and thanked them for the advice before I left to go find (Y/n) before it grew dark.

*1ST Person POV*

I was at the training grounds with my bow and arrow hoping to get in some last minute training before I would retire for the night. I notched an arrow onto the bowstring, pulled it back, took a breath before steadying my hand and let the arrow fly. It hit dead center and I notched another arrow into the bow before releasing that and it hit the center as well as splitting the arrow.

“Ahh, when did you learn to do that?” I turned to see Kili looking between me and the target in amazement.

“When I was a little girl, when I refused to believe that a bow was just something my aunt would tie to my curly locks.” I said notching another arrow into my bow and fired it at the target splitting the other two arrows. “My uncle agreed. He said learning to fight was essential whether you wore a dress or trousers. He was the wisest man I ever knew.”

“Wish my kin were as supportive at first when I had wish to take the bow and arrow as my main weapon of choice.”

“Thing was he wasn’t just supportive. My uncle he—he was the only father figure I ever had after my own dad walked out on my mother. After she was killed by orcs, my aunt took me in. He took me aside one early morning, taught me everything I know about fighting and said to me, ‘(Y/n), my little raven. If you remember what you’re fighting for you’ll never miss your target’.” I said remember my uncle Arathorn as a good man.

He was not only a good leader to the Rangers up in the North, but he was a loving man who loved his wife. And loved a child that was not his own blood as a father should. Raised her, taught her to fight but also keep a level head. I only wish that Aragorn had the same opportunity to bond with his father as I did.

“He sounds like a good man.” Kili told me solemnly.

“Aye. He was.” I said clasping the necklace he gave me a year after being adopted into the family. It’s not much just a simple silver chain with a raven in flight pendant on it but it’s so special to me and never once have I taken it off.

“Is that why you like collecting small objects?” he asked me. I smiled solemnly and nodded.

“When I was a child and would go with him on patrols, most of the Rangers tired of how I would stop them to find a loose button or a smooth pebble perfect for skipping across the river. But never my uncle, in fact he always encouraged me to keep at it. Said that I’d never know when I might find the greatest treasure of them all.”

We sat there in a comfortable silence for a brief moment (although it felt like an eternity) until Kili finally spoke up.

“I uhh…..” he trailed off softly. “I think you might’ve missed the target.” I looked at him confused before turning to the target where my split arrows were. “No not….” He softly chuckled, “I meant with your story. The one you told your cousin about. For the bead.”

“Did I?” he softly nodded but he refused to look me directly in the eye. “Care to elaborate your theory of this bead?”

“Well it’s not much different from yours. Just some minor details changed. The bead did in fact belong to a prince. But the bead was a part of his family’s heirloom, one that would be meant for a future courting. However, while out on a quest, he had realized that he had lost it. He searched and searched but could not find the bead anywhere. The Prince was heartbroken, not only of the fact he had lost his family bead, but that one day he had hoped to give it to the woman he loves was now gone. Then a few days after the start of his quest, he soon finds the woman he loves wearing his bead into her braided hair.”

He fiddled with his hands before finally looking up at me, his eyes holding both a loving gaze but also a hint of fear and insecurity. I then watched as his eyes soon turned to look at my braid. I lifted it up and stared at the bead only for my heart to stop and my stomach sink.

Wait…..could he mean—

“You don’t have to say anything. I won’t force you plus you did not know that braiding a Dwarf’s family bead means you accept a courtship with me. I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks now but I cannot deny my feelings any longer. (Y/n), I……” I stopped his rambling by bestowing a small kiss to his cheek.

“My heart feels the same way Kili.” His eyes widened with surprise looked at me and from his stubbled face I could see the faintest hint of a blush.

“Really?”

“Really, really.” I said with a warm smile. A bright smile soon started to show itself on his face as he took my hands into his and bestowed a sweet kiss to the back of my knuckles.

“Mahal’s beard my—my heart is pounding more harder than Aulë slamming his axe upon a mountain of stone.”

“And the very breath within me feels like it has been sucked away.” I said to him.

“Is this what finding my One feels like? If it is, I never want it to go away. Nor do I wish to see you go.”

“I may not know the concept of your One, but if it’s anything to what we call soulmates then yes. I saw it every day with my aunt and uncle before his death. They held the purest form of true love I had only ever read in story books. But never did I hope to experience such a love.”

“Best get used to it amrâlimê, because I will spend every hour of my wakened days giving all my love to you.” I knelt down beside him and cupped the side of his face, brushing away the dark strands of his hair as I felt his hand gently cup my jawline as our forehead softly touched one another’s.

Our noses slowly grazing across the other’s like wind in the grass until finally our lips became one and we gifted our devoted love for each other through each kiss and stolen baited breath.

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theglassofmiddleearth · 2 years

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Imagine being in the mines of Moria with the fellowship.

Pippin: Are we lost?

Merry: No

Pippin: I think we are

Merry: *shushes him*

Y/N: Gandalf's thinking.

Frodo: *notices Gollum* Y/N, Gandalf! There's something down there.

Y/N: *turns to Gandalf* You wanna take this one?

Gandalf: *mutters* Not unless you wish to tell me the way.

Y/N: *grins* When in doubt Gandalf, when in doubt.

Turns to Frodo

Y/N: My dear, that would be Gollum.

Frodo: Gollum?

Y/N: Yes, I think he’s been following us for three days now. Probably set free from the dungeons of Barad-dûr. He wants what you carry upon your neck.

Frodo: The Ring?

Y/N: Yes, he will spend the rest of his life following where the ring goes, for he loves and hates the ring. Just as he loves and hates himself.

Gandalf: Sméagol’s story is quite a sad one.

Frodo: Sméagol?

Y/N: Yes, that was what he was called. Before the Ring found him, and drove him mad.

Frodo: Pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance.

Y/N: Pity? No my dear boy.

Gandalf: It was pity that stilled Bilbo’s hand.

Y/N: *grits her teeth* Many that live deserve death

Legolas and Gimli : *both look at Y/N and frown*

Gandalf: And some that that die, deserve life. Can you give it to them Frodo?

Y/N: Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgement dear one. Even the very wise cannot see all ends.

Gandalf: *narrows his eyes at Y/N before turning back to Frodo* My heart tells me there is still some part for Gollum to play whether for ill or for good.

Y/N: The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.

Frodo: I wish the ring never came to me. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not up to them to decide.

Y/N: All we can do, is to decide what to do with the time that was given to us.

Gandalf: There are other forces at work in this world and out of it Frodo, *glances at Y/N* besides the will of evil.

Y/N: Bilbo was meant to find the ring, and therefore you were meant to carry it. *grins down at Frodo* Now isn't that an encouraging thought?

Gandalf: Ah its that way!

Merry: He’s remembered!

Gandalf and Y/N: No.

Gandalf: But the air doesn’t smell so foul down here.

Y/N: *grins at Gandalf* When in doubt my friends, follow your nose.

Legolas: I thought it was follow your heart.

Aragorn: As did I

Y/N: Now now my dear friends, your heart goes third and your nose goes second!

Legolas: *puzzled* Then what goes first?

Both grin and look at each other

Aragorn: Her stomach.

Y/N: My stomach.

Sam: Quite wise of you miss Y/N.

Y/N: Thank you Sam.

All walk through the tunnel.

Legolas: *to Aragorn* Do you know what Y/N likes to eat?

Aragorn: Anything that she can get her hands on. Why so curious Legolas.

Legolas: *hurriedly* Just want to know what fuels such a dwarf sized human.

Y/N: I heard that.

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starspray · 1 year

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Power & Desire: The Silmarils vs The One Ring

Can also be read on the Silmarillion Writers’ Guild

Every so often I see discussions in fandom about the Silmarils and the One Ring that end up equating them—treating them as though they are direct parallels to one another. This always happens by way of bringing the Silmarils down to the level of the Ring, often treating characters’ refusal to surrender the one Beren and Lúthien retrieved as the result of the same kind of corrosive possessiveness that the Ring induces, which renders its bearer literally unable to give it up willingly or destroy it.* This reading is not just wrong, it undermines the agency of the characters involved and undercuts the tragedy of The Silmarillion. The Silmarils and the One Ring are made by very different characters for very different purposes. They also act in the narratives of their respective stories very differently.

What do the Silmarils and the Ring have in common? They are both the titular objects of their respective books around which the major plot turns, it is true. They are both made by powerful individuals, and are desired by many different people, and when they are lost and/or stolen their makers are desperate to retrieve them. Characters die for them, and kill for them. At this extremely surface level reading they do, indeed, seem very similar. But the deeper you look at each object the more glaring differences show themselves, until you realize that they do not parallel, but rather oppose each other.

Due to the nature of each narrative it’s much easier to see the full nature of the Ring and the effect it has on people around it. It is an object created explicitly for evil and malicious purposes: One Ring to rule them all, and in the darkness bind them. Sauron makes it so that he can ensnare all others who hold rings of power, “for he made that Ring himself, it is his, and he let a great part of his own former power pass into it, so that he could rule all the others. If he recovers it, then he will command them all again, wherever they be, even the Three…”

The way the Ring works is that it sneaks into the bearer’s mind and starts to twist their thoughts to its own purposes. It wants to be used, and it wants to isolate its bearer. It makes itself desirable so that its bearer will do all kinds of mental gymnastics to justify the means by which to take and keep it. See Gollum’s insistence on his “birthday present.” See Bilbo’s tale of winning it in the riddle game. At the Council of Elrond he says: “But I will now tell the true story, and if some here have heard me tell it otherwise”—he looked slidelong at Glóin—“I ask them to forget it and forgive me. I only wished to claim the treasure as my very own in those days, and to be rid of the name of thief that was put on me. But perhaps I understand things a little better now” (emphasis mine).

You can see it in Isildur, too. The films misrepresent this scene: Elrond says nothing of dragging Isildur up Mount Doom to try to get him to destroy the Ring; he says that “whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it” but at that time there is no way anyone present could know what kind of effect the Ring would have on someone other than Sauron, because Isildur is the first person after Sauron to hold it. But Elrond telling the story has the benefit of Gandalf’s recent decades of research, and the reader also can see the red flags popping up almost as soon as Isildur touches it. He “will have [the Ring] as weregild for my father, and my brother” he claims, which is a similar kind of justification to Bilbo’s story of winning the Ring instead of finding it. Weregild is, per dictionary.com: a term used in Anglo-Saxon and other Germanic countries for “money paid to the relatives of a murder victim in compensation for loss and to prevent a blood feud.” It’s something paid to prevent further bloodshed. It would have been weregild if Sauron had handed it over after Anárion had died, as part of some kind of peace brokerage. But it can’t be weregild if you’re taking it off the dead body of your enemy; it’s too late by then. Isildur does have every right to it as a spoil of war, and no one disputes that right. But the fact that Isildur has to change it and further justify it even in his own mind is a sign that the Ring is already working on him. And if that is not enough (which it might not be—weregild is a very archaic term), Tolkien further illustrates the effects of the Ring taking hold on Isildur in the document that Gandalf discovers in Minas Tirith’s archives: “But for my part I will risk no hurt to this thing: of all the words of Sauron the only fair. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain.”

This effect of the Ring is not something that can be defeated easily. Only twice is it given up willingly: once by Bilbo, who needs all of the help Gandalf can give him, and once by Sam, who has born it for a very short time—and even then “Sam felt reluctant to give up the Ring and burden his master with it again.” There you see another justification—perfectly in character for Sam to want to spare Frodo, but also a thought that the Ring can latch onto and use, to twist for its own purposes.

And though Sam is able to return it to Frodo with relative ease, he tries to compromise: “If it’s too hard a job, I could share it with you, maybe?”

Frodo’s reaction illustrates just how far gone he is—made more tragic by his awareness of it:

“‘No, no!’ cried Frodo, snatching the Ring and chain from Sam’s hands. ‘No you won’t, you thief!’ He panted, staring at Sam with eyes wide with fear and enmity. Then suddenly, clasping the Ring in one clenched fist, he stood aghast. A mist seem to clear form his eyes, and he passed a hand over his aching brow. The hideous vision had seemed so real to him, half bemused as he was still with wound and fear. Sam had changed before his very eyes into an orc gain, leering and pawing at his treasure, a foul little creature with greedy eyes and slobbering mouth. But now the vision had passed. There was Sam kneeling before him, his face wrung with pain, as if he had been stabbed in the heart; tears welled from his eyes.

“‘O Sam!’ cried Frodo. ‘What have I said? What have I done? Forgive me! After all you have done. It is the horrible power of the Ring. I wish it had never, never, been found. But don’t mind me, Sam. I must carry the burden to the end. It can’t be altered. You can’t com between me and this doom.’”

And that is only looking at what it does to people who possess it. Saruman never comes near it, but the mere desire twists him from someone noble and wise and good into a miniature Sauron. Boromir also falls—he is a good man, an honorable and brave and ambitious man desperate to protect his home, and the Ring takes that and twists it until Boromir breaks and attacks Frodo. The Ring is a thing made with evil and malicious intentions, for explicitly evil purposes, and it cannot be taken and used for good—in fact it will take even the best of intentions and twist them to evil. Gandalf knows this, and that is why when Frodo asks if he will take the Ring his response is immediate and vehement:

‘No!’ cried Gandalf, springing to his feet. ‘With that power I should have power too great and terrible. And over me the Ring would gain a power still greater and more deadly.’ His eyes flashed and his face was lit as by a fire within. ‘Do not tempt me! For I do not wish to become like the Dark Lord himself. Yet the way of the Ring to my heart is by pity, pity for weakness and the desire of strength to do good. Do not tempt me! I dare not take it, not even to keep it safe, unused. The wish to wield it would be too great for my strength. I shall have such need of it.’

And Galadriel has a similar response when Frodo offers it to her. There is of course her famous description of what she would become were she to take it, but then Sam says to her:

‘But if you’ll pardon my speaking out, I think my master was right. I wish you’d take his Ring. You’d put things to rights. You’d stop them digging up the gaffer and turning him adrift. You’d make some folk pay for their dirty work.’

‘I would,’ she said. ‘That is how it would begin. But it would not stop with that, alas! We will not speak more of it.’

That is why the plot of The Lord of the Rings centers around the Ring’s destruction. Everything else—the battles, the politics, the power struggles, Aragorn’s rise to kingship—all of it is secondary. And the Ring itself is an active player. I will not go so far as to claim it has sentience, or any kind of active thought, but there is a significant part of Sauron’s will and his power held within it, and there is a drive to be found and kept and used—and ultimately to return to its maker.

The Silmarils, on the other hand, are the greatest creation of Fëanor at the height of his powers in Valinor:

For Fëanor, being come to his full might, was filled with a new thought, or it may be that some shadow of foreknowledge came to him of the doom that drew near; and he pondered how the light of the Trees, the glory of the Blessed Realm, might be preserved imperishable. Then he began a long and secret labor, and he summoned all his lore, and his power, and his subtle skill; and at the end of all he made the Silmarils.

As three great jewels they were in form. But not until the End, when Fëanor shall return who perished ere the Sun was made … shall it be known of what substance they were made. Like the crystal of diamonds it appeared, and yet was more strong than adamant, so that no violence could mar it or break it within the Kingdom of Arda. Yet that crystal was to the Silmarils but as is the body to the Children of Ilúvatar: the house of its inner fire, that is within it and yet in all parts of it, and is its life. And the inner fire of the Silmarils Fëanor made of the blended light of the Trees of Valinor, which lives in them yet, though the Trees have long withered and shine no more.

Fëanor’s motives in making the Silmarils are not wholly clear—whether he had some foresight of the death of the Trees, or whether he just wanted to see if he could do it, or to show off his skills, or what. But whatever his motive is, it is not to enthrall or ensnare anyone. On the contrary—while the Ring seeks to isolate its bearer, the Silmarils, though “even in the darkness of the deepest treasury [they] of their own radiance shone like the stars of Varda; and yet, as were they indeed living things, they rejoiced in light and received it and gave it back in hues more marvelous than before.” They are at their most beautiful when out in the light, where they are most likely to be seen and enjoyed by everyone.

They are then hallowed by Varda. To hallow a thing is to to make it holy, and in the case of the Silmarils it also means that “thereafter no moral flesh, nor hands unclean, nor anything of evil will might touch them, but it was scorched and withered”. The mortal flesh bit is contradicted later when Beren handles one with seemingly no issue, but Beren is an exception to many rules, and what remains consistent is that nothing “of evil will” can touch the Silmarils and come away unharmed.

Like the One Ring, the entire plot of The Silmarillion is the great desire of various characters for the Silmarils. This begins with Melkor, whose lust for them inflames his desire to destroy Fëanor, and the friendship between the Valar and the Elves. But this should come as no surprise to the reader; Melkor has historically lusted after sources of power and Light, going often into the Void in search of the Flame Imperishable. The Silmarils themselves are not doing anything to Melkor; they are the objects of his desires, but not the source.

This pattern continues throughout the The Silmarillion. Fëanor and his sons swear their famous Oath, but the Silmarils don’t make them do it. Then Thingol tells Beren that he must retrieve a Silmaril before he can marry Lúthien, he is setting what seems to everyone present to be an impossible goal, especially after the Dagor Bragollach and the breaking of the Siege of Angband. I’m not saying that Thingol does not actually want a Silmaril; he is very happy to have it once he gets it, but it’s a very different desire from the kind inspired by the Ring much later. Then someone is the bearer of the One Ring, the last thing they want to do is give it up, as discussed above. But the Silmaril that Beren and Lúthien retrieve from Morgoth is passed around without any issue through many different hands. Nowhere is it even implied that Elwing, for example, has trouble giving it to Eärendil to take to the Valar, or to take with him when he sets sail in Vingilot.

Thingol’s desire for the Silmaril I mentioned above; it comes closest to mirroring the kind of obsession triggered by the Ring, but it is not the same. Although “as the years passed Thingol’s thought turned unceasingly to the jewel of Fëanor, and became bound to it,” which sounds a lot like Ring-esque obsession, it does not drive him to isolate himself, or to keep the Silmaril hidden away where only he can see or find it, the way Bilbo keeps the Ring in his pocket and never takes it out when others can see it. Thingol does become “minded now to bear it with him always, waking and sleeping,” but by its very nature that can’t be done secretly. There is also no use to the Silmaril the way there is to the Ring—it cannot turn one invisible, and it does not give one power over others. The Silmarils have a power—more on that later—but it’s of a very different kind.

An explanation can be found for Thingol’s obsession through a study of his character arc and his relationship with Valinor and the Trees (which is another essay unto itself). Thingol, along with Ingwë and Finwë, goes to Valinor as an ambassador, and when they return to Cuiviénen there is nothing in the text to indicate that he is more or less enthusiastic than his companions to convince the Eldar to go to dwell with the Valar, and he in fact leads the largest faction of the Eldar over Middle-earth on the Great Journey. It is only by chance (if chance you call it) that he stumbles upon Melian in Nan Elmoth, where “a spell was laid on him, so that they stood thus while long years were measured by the wheeling stars above them; and the trees of Nan Elmoth grew tall and dark before they spoke any word.” Famously, they remain lost in Nan Elmoth so long that Ulmo comes back to get the Teleri that have lingered to search for him, and under Olwë many of them depart, and those that remain give up the chance to get to Valinor—and that includes Thingol when he finally returns to them. Thingol does not choose to remain behind; he gets left behind. And when The Silmarillion speaks of Thingol’s desire to go to Valinor, it specifically says that it is the light of the Trees that he desires: “Greatly though he had desired to see again the light of the Trees, in the face of Melian he beheld the light of Aman as in an unclouded mirror, and in that light he was content.”

Fast forward to the Flight of the Noldor, and Thingol learns that Morgoth has destroyed the Trees (and murdered his friend Finwë), so that even if he were to reach Valinor, their light is gone forever. Fast forward to the Dagor Bragollach, and the Siege of Angband has broken and Beleriand is swiftly growing ever more dark and dangerous as the power of Morgoth grows. Then Beren comes, and the Quest happens, and now Thingol has a Silmaril. He no longer has to be content with the reflected light of Aman in Melian’s face, however unclouded a mirror it may be. Now he has the real thing, a real piece of Laurelin and Telperion at Mingling. Of course it might become an obsession.

Less readily explainable is the Dwarves’ decision to insist upon the Silmaril and the Nauglamír as payment, when Thingol commissions them to combine the two. They have been coming and going between their mountain halls and Menegroth for many generations by now, and there is no mention of any kind of prior dispute over payment—certainly not one that results in bloodshed. Yet when Thingol goes to take up the finished Nauglamír they “in that moment withheld it from him, and demanded that he yield it up to them, saying: ‘By what right does the Elvenking lay claim to the Nauglamír, that was made by our fathers for Finrod Felagund who is dead? It has come to him but by the hand of Húrin the Man of Dor-lómin, who took it as a thief out of the darkness of Nargothrond.’”

This does sound rather like the Ring-induced desires we see in The Lord of the Rings, although the Dwarves do not mention the Silmaril. It is Thingol who decides that that is what they want—whether he is correct in this assessment is, in my opinion, debatable. There is another form of treasure that warps people’s minds and desires—dragon gold. And the Nauglamír has just come from Nargothrond, that was for several years under the control of Glaurung. I have thus far only cited the published Silmarillion but at this point I do want to point out that in a previous draft of Thingol’s demise, the gold that Húrin brings to Thingol is, explicitly, cursed.

In the draft of the Quenta Noldorinwa found in The Shaping of Middle-earth Húrin and a few outlaws arrive at Nargothrond “which as yet none, Orc, Elf, or Man, had dared to plunder, for dread of the spirit of Glómund [Glaurung] and his very memory.” There they find the dwarf Mîm, who has come to Nargothrond and “bound [the treasure] to himself with many spells.” Húrin’s companions kill Mîm, “and at his death Mîm cursed the gold.”

This is the gold that, in this version of the story, Húrin takes to throw at Thingol’s feet, and it is this gold that Thingol then summons the Dwarves to make into the Nauglamír in which to hang the Silmaril. The text in this version is extremely explicit about the hold that the cursed gold takes over Thingol and also over the Dwarves who come to work with it. “Yet also they [the Dwarves] lusted for the Silmaril,” is added almost as an afterthought.

In the published Silmarillion there is no explicit curse, though the description of Nargothrond when Húrin comes to it is almost exactly the same as the earlier Quenta, and if one is familiar with The Hobbit, one might remember what else Tolkien has written about dragon hoards. When Bilbo witnesses Thorin’s dealing with Bard after Smaug is slain, the narrator says that “also he did not reckon with the power that gold has upon which a dragon has long brooded … Long hours in the past days Thorin had spent in the treasury, and the lust of it was heavy on him.” This is commonly called the dragon-sickness; its effects are varied in The Hobbit, affecting some more strongly than others—such as Thorin, and also the Master of Lake-town, who “being of the kind that easily catches such disease he fell under the dragon-sickness and took most of the gold and fled with it, and died of starvation in the Waste.”

One can thus infer that both Thingol and the Dwarves of Nogrod are also susceptible to the dragon-sickness, and also to fatal amounts of pride. This puts some of the blame on the Nauglamír, but still none at all on the Silmaril.

None of this is to say that the Silmarils are not desirable. The entire plot of The Silmarillion hinges on their desirability. But in this they are passive objects, unlike the Ring that actively seeks to ensnare new bearers whenever it can. What power lies in the Silmarils lies in the light of the Trees that lives inside them, and that light was made by Yavanna, and is holy and life-giving. The people of Sirion believe that “in the Silmaril lay the healing and the blessing that had come upon their houses and their ships,” and that seems to play a much larger part in their refusal to surrender the Silmaril to Maedhros than the fact that it is an heirloom of Lúthien and Dior. Considering the state of the rest of Beleriand at this time, there seems to be some truth to that belief. It is with the Silmaril also that Eärendil and Elwing are able at last to pass through the barriers around Valinor and come to the shores of Eldamar.

And, much later, it is the light of that Silmaril that Galadriel captures in the phial she gifts to Frodo, and though that phial might be considered as much a reflection of the light of Aman as lives in Melian’s face, there is real tangible power in it—power that works against that of the Ring (and the Witch-king) in the Morgul Vale as the Witch-king and his armies pass by:

There was no longer any answer to that command in his own will, dismayed by terror though it was, and he felt only the beating upon him of a great power from outside. It took his hand, and as Frodo watched with his mind, not willing it but in suspense (as if he looked on some old story far away), it moved the hand inch by inch towards the chain upon his neck. Then his own will stirred; slowly it forced the hand back and set it to find another thing, a thing lying hidden near his breast. Cold and hard it seemed as his grip closed on it: the phial of Galadriel, so long treasured, and almost forgotten till that hour. As he touched it, for a while all thought of the Ring was banished from his mind. He sighed and bent his head.

Later in Shelob’s lair Frodo brings the phial out, and

for a moment it glimmered, faint s a rising star struggling in heavy earthward mists, and then as its power waxed, and hope grew in Frodo’s mind, it began to burn, and kindled to a silver flame, a minute heart of dazzling light, as though Eärendil had himself come down from the high sunset paths with the last Silmaril upon his brow. The darkness receded from it, until ti seemed to shine in the center of a globe of airy crystal, and the hand that held it sparkled with white fire.

Frodo gazed in wonder at this marvelous gift that he had so long carried, not guessing its full worth and potency. Seldom had he remembered it on the road, until they came to Morgul Vale, and never had he used it for fear of its revealing light. Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima! he cried, and knew not what he had spoken; for it seemed that another voice spoke through his, clear, untroubled by the foul air of the pit.

And this is only the light of the Silmaril that Galadriel has caught in the water of her mirror, not the Silmaril itself—a fragment of a fragment of the light of the Trees. It stands and acts in opposition of the Shadow, whether of Morgoth or of Sauron.

All of this has been to say: one can compare the roles that the Silmarils and the One Ring play in their respective stories, as each lies at the center, but there the similarities end. The Silmarils are desirable for their goodness; the Ring is desirable for the malicious power that it promises any prospective bearer. As objects of power they are the antithesis of one another, and for a reader to treat or regard the Silmarils as they would the Ring is, quite frankly, wrong. The motives of a maker matter in Middle-earth, and whatever his deeds later, one cannot equate Fëanor at the height of his power in Valinor to Sauron at the height of his in Mordor.

Bibliography:

1. The Fellowship of the Ring, “The Council of Elrond”, “The Shadow of the Past”, “The Mirror of Galadriel” 2. dictionary.com, entry: weregild 3. The Return of the King, “The Tower of Cirith Ungol" 4. The Silmarillion, “Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor” 5. The Silmarillion, “Of the Ruin of Doriath” 6. The Silmarillion, “Of Thingol and Melian” 7. The Silmarillion, “Of Eldamar and the Princes of the Eldalië” 8. The Shaping of Middle-earth, “The Quenta” 9. The Hobbit, “The Gathering of the Clouds” 10. The Hobbit, “The Last Stage” 11. The Two Towers, “The Stairs of Cirith Ungol" 12. The Two Towers, “Shelob’s Lair”

#look i wrote a thing #meta #tolkien meta #silmarils #the one ring #lord of the rings #silmarillion

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mortaltempless · 7 months

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it's more the being unknown

~1.4k, Rated G, Galadriel/Sauron

Even at the end of the world, Frodo remains curious as to what drives Galadriel.

The hobbit, for all his long millenia of bravery and kindness, for all his suffering, looked terrified, and he knew it. An awful humiliation on this final day.

"Do not fear, young Frodo," Galadriel offered. "It will be painless. The One would not stand for anything else."

That morning, they had all seen Galadriel's uncle stalk proudly and with purpose out of the Halls of Mandos, preparing his chariot. All knew what that meant.

Frodo offered a weak smile to Galadriel.

"What will come after, my lady?" he whispered. He knew his duty. He wore armour, for the first time in the many Ages of his life. He would defend Middle Earth, and give thanks to Erú as the world broke apart. But that did not stop the fear.

Still, Galadriel smiled softly and sweetly -- a rare gift.

"I'm not sure, my friend," she said. "But it will be beautiful."

Frodo nodded, not much reassured. Galadriel checked over his armour, her own long-since fitted perfectly to her form.

"Will you stay with me?" he asked softly, somewhat ashamed of the quake in his voice. Galadriel looked down and away, and for a moment the hobbit thought she would not answer.

"Frodo, there is --" she looked at him, blue eyes shining. "It is the end of the world. And my part in this story is over."

A pause as she looked down again, at the shining, iridescent silver of her breastplate, the gold star gleaming like a fire in the centre.

"There will be no tomorrow, old friend. So there is only one way I wish to spend my last hours." her voice was a delicate whisper.

Ever since he arrived on the shores of Valinor, he had grown close to Galadriel. One of the few familiar faces in this strange land. The other elves stared at him, and found him to be a curious oddity. Only those who knew him from Middle Earth continued to treat him with respect and kindness, rather than as an amusing child who just learned to toddle. Even so, he could not miss the rumours that followed the once-Lady of Lothlórien. Most of them, he could dismiss out of hand. Even after all his long years, he remembered the Sackville-Bagginses well enough to recognise petty jealousies and family rivalries when he saw them.

But there were other rumours, ones that stuck in his craw. Ones that made his mind itch with the memory of Galadriel's woods, and the Ring, louder than it had ever been, whispering incessantly to him -- soclosesoclosesoclose -- praise Erú that Galadriel had the wisdom to reject it. But no, Frodo dismissed the thought, there was no way that, after everything, Galadriel would --

"Mithrandir will look after you and Bilbo," she said. "You will not be alone for even a moment."

Frodo did not reply. He just blinked slowly at the elf. He was not sure if she wanted his permission, or if she was telling him instead.

He put it out of his mind for hours, watching the events of that final eternal day unfold around him. Chaos and waiting. Waiting and chaos. These alternating moods threatened to undo him. He stood by Galadriel, Gandalf and Bilbo, the four of them stuck carefully together as it all unfolded, with the elf and wizard guiding the halflings across bloody battlefields, carefully keeping them away from the worst of the battles. Indeed, Frodo's own blade remained clean.

He supposed he should be pleased about that.

But that all changed once he saw It. That was the only thing that came to mind: It. The armour was unmistakable, and for the first time in countless years, Frodo's shoulder burned. An ancient wound awakened by its ultimate cause. It made a sick sort of sense that Sauron would piece himself together enough to witness his master's final attempt at dominance.

Gandalf's hand was on his shoulder, his voice comforting and low.

"He will not come near you, old friend," he murmured. Frodo sobbed, nodded, but could not help the way he curled into the wizard in fear.

"I don't --" his voice trembled. "I don't want to die like this."

Frodo was brave. His strength and kindness was famed across the world, far beyond Middle Earth. The gentle halfling who toppled a god without ever taking a life. But he felt as though tears and terror were all he had left.

"And you won't," This voice was soft as well, but with an almost incomprehensible depth of kindness and feeling to it. Galadriel's soft hair brushed his arm as she laid a kiss on his forehead. "He won't ever touch you, old friend."

With a squeeze of his hand and a meaningful look to Gandalf, she was gone.

"What is she doing?" Bilbo asked, his hand rubbing soothing circles into his nephew's shoulder. Gandalf didn't reply, but his sigh contained an age of sorrow.

She walked slowly, calmly towards the towering figure, discarding weapons as she went.

Her quiver.

Her bow and arrow.

Her sword.

And finally, a dagger.

Sauron, for his part, possessed a stillness that Frodo would never have guessed. Sword in one hand, mace in the other. He gave up neither weapon.

The hobbit's heart was in his mouth, certain that Galadriel had miscalculated, certain that at any moment, Sauron would swipe his mace at her, smashing her bones into pieces. But he did no such thing.

Instead, by some magic, Frodo heard every word, even at this distance.

"I always hated that armour," Galadriel said. The figure tilted its awful head at her.

"Too frightening?" His voice was muffled, but sounded little like the wraith that had haunted the hobbit's nightmares for millennia.

"Too much like a little boy's. Far too cumbersome, even for you," Galadriel replied. There was something in her voice that Frodo could not recognise. Still, the Dark Lord's next act threw any thought of Galadriel from his mind as his hands reached up, and unlatched his helmet.

It came to the ground with a loud clang.

Frodo couldn't breathe.

Sauron looked…disarmingly normal. He remembered Strider…Aragorn…whatever, and his ranger friends…Sauron would not look out of place among them. Scraggly haired and scruffy, and far from the beast he imagined lurked beneath the helm. And it is only then that he identifies the note beneath Galadriel's speech, even at this dire moment: amusement.

"Gandalf," Frodo whispered, almost against his will. "What is she doing?"

The wizard had not taken his eyes off the pair, a wariness to his gaze even now at the end of everything.

"Hmm?" he asked, as though he had not heard every word Frodo uttered.

"I don't think she's in much danger, my lad," said Bilbo, keen eyes alight with curiosity. Frodo shook his head.

"She needs --" he did not know how to finish the sentence, felt rooted to the spot, even as his breath caught when Sauron's mace crashed to the ground beside him.

"I believe the Lady will do quite fine without our aide, my boy," said Gandalf, still fixed on the pair.

Frodo strained to hear them now, no doubt a result of Galadriel's magic fading, or perhaps an alteration of the spell. The rumours burst into his mind again -- perhaps it was for privacy.

"Of course I did not visit --"

"Thousands of years in the dark, Galadriel --"

"And whose fault --"

Now he could believe them. Then, they stood in silence for a long moment, and when Galadriel spoke again, it was crystal clear to Frodo's ear, even as he could see his uncle surreptitiously straining forwards to hear as Gandalf kept a tight grip on the more troublesome halfling.

"If this is the end, do we really want to spend it on another battlefield?" Her voice was soft, and achingly sad.

"It would be fitting," Sauron replied, just as clearly to Frodo's ear. "But yes, I rather agree. This is not how we should spend the last of our time."

By the end of the statement, his voice was quiet and hoarse. Gandalf's eyes shut, and the wizard let out a sigh that contained centuries of tension.

Sauron's sword also fell to the ground as he stared at Galadriel, something impossible in his eyes that Frodo simply refused to name.

The last the hobbit saw of Galadriel was this: walking, off the last battlefield, in perfect step with the Dark Lord of Mordor, their weapons discarded.

#I'm not posting this to Ao3 but I'm fed up of this just sitting in my gdocs lol #my fic #haladriel #saurondriel #galadriel x sauron #tv: rings of power #lotr fic #trop fic

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danger-xylophones · 1 year

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Hey! I hope you're having a good day/night <3 I had a LOTR and/or The Hobbit headcannon request but if you're not taking those rn I understand <3 How various characters would react to a friend (reader) who is very emotional (like, the type of person who when they find something funny they LAUGH HARD, has deff. been kicked out of public places for fighting people who made them angry, and gets teary eyed even over the death and suffering of animals and total strangers) Any character is fine, I love them all, but please include Gandalf (he's SO COOL! and I feel like he doesn't get included in hcs enough but idk-) Thank you <3 :)

Howdy, I am still taking requests it just takes me awhile to get around to them.

I also agree Gandalf should show up more.

Gandalf:

Gandalf adores you

You are unequivocally one of his favorite people

And that's saying a lot considering he's been around for centuries

He loves how expressive you are and wishes more people were as free with their emotions, he thinks that maybe some problems in middle-earth could be solved if people were just more open about how they're feeling

Of course, he acknowledges that your propensity for expression can be a danger at times

He would never wish for you to stop being so expressive, but he does wish you'd quit getting kicked out of bars

It makes it hard to go get a drink with you because you're banned from a lot of places for 'roughhousing'

He's keen to have you meet Radagast, he thinks the two of you would get along swimmingly

I will add he's hesitant to smoke anything other than pipeweed with you - I mean, you're already prone to heightened emotions when sober, he's a bit scared to see what happens when you've got some for of recreational substance in you.

You're the first person he wants to show any new fireworks he learns to make to because you let your enchantment with the party favors shine through unabashedly

Beorn:

Beorn was initially a bit put off by you

He's very quiet and used to the company of animals who normally don't laugh when he cracks a joke to himself

But he warms up to you when he sees just how deeply you care for anyone and anything

He took you on a walk one day and you started crying because you found a tree that'd been scorched by a lighting bolt

And again when you were so gentle and tender with one of his horses that suffered a bad scrape on its side

He starts to open up a bit when you're around

It's not that noticeable but the jokes he normally cracks to himself are now loud enough for you to hear

He looks forward to your sporadic visits now

Legolas:

Being an elf who was raised to keep a stoic countenance, he finds your expressiveness odd but a welcome change

The first time he cracked a joke that made you laugh he was worried you'd asphyxiate

Gandalf had to be the one to explain that you were just like that, that you felt things a bit differently from others

It takes Legolas a bit to get used to just how strong your emotions are

He happened to be in a bar with you when you got kicked out once, he was worried he'd be helping you bury a body before the end of the night

He understands your empathy for animals though, as that is something he can say he feels deeply

Elves share a special bond with all life and though they are often spared by death, that does not mean witnessing it ever gets easier

He eventually learns to appreciate your expressiveness as a gift few can claim to have

Galadriel:

Galadriel is very fond of you

You remind of her of her younger self who was more wild and willing to let her feelings shine through

She loves it when you tell her stories of your life

Your still just as emotive while recounting your journeys with Gandalf to her as you probably were while traveling

She's a bit jealous of you though, as she wishes she could show her emotions as freely as you do

You're a breath of fresh air for her

As the Lady of Lothlorien, she has a certain countenance she must uphold and that stoicism is often repaid with aloofness from her fellow elves

But you remind her she is also a person, same as you, and that she feels too

Gimli:

Whenever you get tossed out of a bar, Gimli's often right there with you

He's also loud and expressive

You can hear his laugh through the clamor of a filled tavern and his temper has also gotten his name blacklisted at a few mead halls

He thinks of you're pretty dwarvish, which is high praise to him

Dwarves are passionate folk and that passion is celebrated because it takes great emotions to ring art from stone

He does feel a bit awkward if he sees you cry only because it takes a lot to make dwarves cry

So he's a bit clumsy if he tries to comfort you

But he loves that he can find you in a crowd if he pauses to listen for a laugh

Bard:

Bard doesn't know how to feel about you, if he's perfectly honest

You remind him of his children who are still learning how to control their temperaments

And his initial thought is that you're too immature

However, when he does finally sit down and talk to you he's quick to realize that this supposed 'immaturity' is something he completely fabricated

You're incredibly intelligent, emotionally and intellectually

And he soon realizes he made a grave mistake judging you so early on

He comes to love just how boisterous your laugh is

It becomes enough for him to start laughing just hearing you laugh

He's still learning how to handle you're more fiery emotions

But he's a loyal friend who'll stick with you even when you get the both of you kicked out of the bar

#lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #gandalf #bard the bowman #legolas #gimli #galadriel #beorn

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autumndasher · 2 months

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The Hobbit Trilogy Random Collected Thoughts (because i rewatched it and wanna ramble)

Over-Hated. Big take away every time I watch it, over-hated

Martin Freeman is the load barring pillar of this Trilogy. His performance is top tier and nails everything he’s given. Personal favourite moments include: “…fair enough” in the Goblin Caves, “Mine!” in Mirkwood, his little “oh… wait a second” with the barrels and the Acorn bit with Thorin

The complaint of “The Hobbit Trilogy isn’t about The Hobbit” I get but it’s still stupid. We do kinda need to know what Gandalf’s doing considering he leaves halfway to Erabor and we need the perspectives of Thorin and the People of Lake Town considering the story of Power Corrupting and Broken Promises being told

I respect them not trying to give deep characterisation to every individual Dwarf but I do wish they gave them a few memorable moments. Like tell me something Ori, Nori or Dori did… tell me which ones Ori, Nori and Dori are. The only waste I’d say is Bofur (the one who talked to Bilbo about being Home Sick before the Goblins) wish he had more Friendly moments with Bilbo, seriously keep your eye on him next time you watch

I like Radagast. He’s weird, likes animals and barges into peoples lifes unannounced with swords, Like Me! And he’s played by Sylvester McCoy, unlike me

Benjamin Cucumber is having so much fun playing Smaug, it’s great. I’m convinced Dragon tastes like ham now

Complaints about the story being dragged out are hilarious coming from the people who praise the LotR Extended Editions as the greatest work of all time

Having not read the book in over 10 years and a passing familiarity of what was changed in the adaptation I’d say a good number are for the better, like Bilbo actually consenting to the journey, Gandalf’s disappearances, Dragon belly scales. List out all the changes and choose 10 at random I think 8 or 9 would be for the better

Thorin’s Funeral and Eulogy should’ve been included, like at least one shot of his corpse on display

#the hobbit #lord of the rings #peter jackson #film review

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creativemessbyvd · 20 days

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I am back! Bagginshield Mamma Mia AU Chapter 3 is out!

PLEASE, IF YOU ARE A RETURNING READER, READ CHAPTERS 1 AND 2, I ADDED A BUNCH OF STUFF TO THEM!

Lay All Your Love On Me - Mamma Mia AU (17688 words) by VestaDragon Chapters: 3/? Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Mamma Mia! (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee, Past Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield - Relationship, Past Bilbo Baggins/Dwalin, Past Bilbo Baggins/Bofur, Endgame Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Endgame Dwalin/Ori Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Frodo Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield, Dwalin (Tolkien), Bofur (Tolkien), Ori (Tolkien), Balin (Tolkien), Pippin Took, Merry Brandybuck, Sam Gamgee, Gandalf (Tolkien), Guest starting Gamgee family, mentioned Lobelia Sackville-Baggins Additional Tags: Mamma Mia! AU, Frodo as Sophie, Bilbo as Donna, Thorin as Sam, Bofur as Bill, Dwalin as Harry, Ori as Rosie, Balin as Tanya, But Ori and Balin will take the roles of Rosie and Tanya both in different ways, No singing inside the story, but it will be encouraged for you to have the Mamma Mia playlist around, I loved this movie and I wanted to see it with the Hobbit characters, Trans Bilbo Baggins, Modern Middle Earth, Fluff and Humor, Family Feels, ABBA Songs Mentioned, Dwobbit Frodo, Not Beta Read, After 4 years I'm back!

Summary:

Frodo Baggins is getting married, and he has invited his three possible dwarrow fathers – but did not tell his Hobbit father. He doesn’t have a death wish. He just wants to fill the hole he has had his whole life. And he’ll know when he sees his father, and everything will be alright in the world.

Bilbo already had stress with the wedding, he did NOT need all three of his exes at his Hotel after 20 years. Why would all three show up and on THIS weekend in particular? Valar help him. This will be a weekend no one will soon forget.

#bagginshield #bagginshield fic #mamma mia #mamma mia au #im sorry its been so long!#but it will be finished!#vd's fics

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tathrin · 10 months

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A response to this ask; taken from this prompt; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time, I don’t care how long it’s been. (Just maybe add some context to your ask if it’s been like a month or more since I posted this, because otherwise I won’t know what to do with the random number in my inbox).

#28....as a lie.

*technically this one picks up after the end of this story if you want to read that first, although you don’t need to; it’s as much a self-contained snippet as any of the others, it just happens take place in a setting within the events of a specific fic, that’s all.

Gimli’s eyes were drawn ever and again to the elvish dancers, even as he was drawn several times into brief conversations as friends and acquaintances paused at the table he now shared with Gandalf to exchange a few words and toast their well-wishes together for Gondor’s king and queen. Gimli was glad of the toasts, at least, for they brought fresh mugs of cool ale, and the heat of so many cavorting bodies had raised the temperature of the hall to near-dwarven levels, despite the cool white stone and tall windows through which a summer’s breeze still wafted.

Legolas’s hair shone like a sunrise in the rich torchlight, and his eyes gleamed like starlight on pale clouds. Gimli was amazed that anyone could long look elsewhere, with the shine of him whirling there to draw the eye.

He was not amazed that the other elves twirling on the dance floor were drawn to him; of course they were. How could they help but be lured in, dull drab moths circling that golden glow? Long hands ran up and down Legolas’s lithe limbs and pressed against his slender waist, long fingers twined through the streaming locks of his unfettered hair and curled possessively around his braids—

The mug in Gimli’s hands gave a crack and shattered, soft metal collapsing in on itself in his grip. He stared at the mess in his hands, numbly grateful that he had at least drained it already and so there was no ale left to spill out across his lap, and then he hurriedly shoved it onto the table behind him. He could feel his cheeks burning hotter than any torch in the hall.

Gimli chanced a sideways glance at Gandalf, who was watching the dancers with every evidence of placid enjoyment on his old face. Had he seen? Had he heard? He said nothing, but that did not always mean anything with Gandalf. Perhaps Gimli should speak, should craft some excuse...

“Flimsy human metal,” he muttered, and glanced at the wizard again. Gandalf nodded absently, but did not otherwise react.

Gimli let out his breath in relief—and then a second later he nearly choked on it, as Legolas suddenly bounded out of the tumult to perch on the bench beside him. His eyes danced as merrily as any of the revelers and his smile beamed bright and clear upon his beardless face.

“Will you not dance with us, Gimli?” he asked. His voice was light with laughter and with joy and his thin chest heaved from his exertions. Gimli found his eyes drawn upwards to the bare lips above that smooth and hairless chin.

“What?” he said.

“Dance with us, Gimli!” Legolas repeated. “Come, you can teach us dwarven steps and I will show you the ways of elvish revelry up close.”

“No,” Gimli answered automatically, his heart stuttering in his throat. “No, I—I am quite comfortable here, thank you.”

“You do not seem comfortable,” Legolas observed, and Gimli felt his stomach drop like a stone. He could not stop himself from glancing behind him at the ruined mug, even though he knew the gesture was a dead give-away; if Legolas had not seen it before, he surely would now, with Gimli’s gaze to lead him to it like a map—or a swift arrow.

“I am perfectly fine,” Gimli insisted. “Gandalf and I are enjoying the dancing quite well from here, thank you.”

Legolas spared a glance at the unmoving wizard but his eyes soon fixed on Gimli once more. “You are bothered by something,” he said quietly. “I can tell. Will you not tell me what? Perhaps I can help.”

Gimli’s mind stuttered with the possibilities of the help that Legolas might offer, and he quickly shied away from the idea. “No!” he blurted. “No, I—as I said, I am fine. It is merely warm in here.”

Legolas laughed. “Warm!” he cried. “But you are a dwarf!”

“Aye, a dwarf,” said Gimli, “and one who is enjoying his ale from his comfortable seat, and has no need to go whirling about like some flighty elven dandelion!”

Legolas should have laughed; Gimli knew his friend well enough to know that much. He should have laughed, but he did not. Instead his pale eyes narrowed sharp and keen on Gimli’s face, and Gimli could feel himself blushing beneath that tight scrutiny.

“Does it bother you,” Legolas asked in a low voice, “to see me frolicking so with these other elves?”

“What?” Gimli exclaimed. His hands clenched convulsively, and he was glad that he had already broken his mug; had he still been holding it now, he would surely have turned the thing into a flattened disk of over-stressed and useless metal. “Bother me! Of course it does not!”

To prove it, Gimli made himself laugh and shake his head, as though Legolas had spoken some ridiculous jest. He even lifted the elf’s lean brown hand and kissed the smooth knuckles as more evidence of how thoroughly unbothered he was. “Go back to your dancing, Master Elf!” Gimli chortled. “I am doing quite well watching it from afar, thank you!”

Legolas stared at him for another moment, his smooth face unreadable . The tips of his ears were flushed dark red from all of his cavorting and his pale eyed looked very wide with no beard to frame them.

Then he shrugged, and said, “As you like, then!” and squeezed Gimli’s shoulder once before bounding away and throwing himself back into the whirl of the merry elvish dancers.

Gimli let out a shaky breath and flexed his hands a few times, getting the blood-flow back into them.

"Lying will do no good for either of you," Gandalf declared calmly. "And it is hardly fair to Legolas; he will take you at your word, whatever you tell him."

Gimli could feel his cheeks burning hotter, shame coming along to add its kindling to the blaze. He managed to force an unintelligible grumble of disagreement from his lips, but nothing more articulate than that; he felt as though he was already strangling on all the words he would not, could not, say.

"He will," Gandalf insisted. "The elvenking might be able to spot a lie from 300 leagues and skewer it as neatly as his son ever has an enemy with that bow of his, but Thranduil's people are another matter. Lies are not generally told in Mirkwood. It is not a place for dissembling, or oaths, or scheming. The Wood-elves are a simple, honest people. And you are Legolas's friend." Gandalf pulled his eyes away from the dancing and fixed his gaze on Gimli instead. His bushy brows were drawn very low atop them, making his eyes glint like embers in deep shadow. "If you tell him something, he will believe you, Gimli. And you will have none but yourself to blame for the results."

Without waiting for Gimli to muster either the courage or the wits for a response, Gandalf swept to his feet and strode off into the tumult of the party.

Gimli slumped low on his bench and stared miserably at the dancing elves.

Legolas was still so impossibly vibrant and noticeable against the duller backdrop of the others. Gimli's eyes fixed on him at once. He seemed to be moving now with even greater abandon than before, if such a thing were possible.

And if such a thing were not impossible, Gimli would almost have said that Legolas kept glancing back at the table where Gimli sat as well—but he was not, of course, and so Gimli put the thought from his mind.

He had more than enough to think of anyway, when a tall elf of Lórien slid up behind Legolas and snaked her arms across his narrow shoulders, leaning in low to murmur something into his finely-pointed ear.

Legolas laughed and turned to face her, their long lithe arms entwining as close as any dwarven lovers. They swayed and swirled together with the music, and the elf-woman’s hands slid up from Legolas’s shoulders to tangle in his braids. Legolas smiled up at her and said something that Gimli was too far away to hear, but it made her laugh. Then Legolas gave one of her dark braids a gentle tug, and Gimli realized that he was growling low in his throat as though facing down a horde of goblins.

He turned away blindly and reached for his mug, realized that it was both empty and broken, and turned back around just in time to see the elf-woman twirl away into someone else’s arms as another pair of hands took Legolas by his trim waist and plucked him out of the center of the tumult to pull him in close against their long lean body, and—

And it was Haldir, Mahal curse it. Gimli’s mouth went dry, his blood pounding in his ears like drumbeats as the March Warden leaned in close and lowered his mouth to Legolas’s ear, whispering something. He took one of Legolas’s braids in his hand and rubbed his thumb across the heavy golden strands, like a dwarf might test a metal for its quality. Haldir was hardly dancing; only swaying a little as he stared down at Legolas, who stood balanced before him on his toes like a bird paused on the edge of flight.

Gimli was on his feet before he realized it, about to start forward and—and what?

His hand was at his belt, which was empty of course; a wedding was no place for weapons. And why was he reaching for his axe, anyway? He sat back down on the bench with a heavy, hollow thump. What was he thinking? What was he doing?

He had had too much ale, clearly. It was the only explanation for his strange behavior tonight. His throat was dry, but he would not drink anymore tonight; he had drunk too much already, clearly, and it was clouding his thoughts. Making him think strange, impossible things. Making him dream things that—that were not, that could never...!

Legolas laughed and rose up onto his toes to press a light kiss to Haldir’s lips.

His head reeling, Gimli watched as the March Warden took Legolas by the hand and led him, smiling, towards the door. If Gimli thought that Legolas paused on the threshold and looked back, somehow finding Gimli’s eyes across the crowded room and glancing at him hesitatingly, questioningly, even hopefully—well, then that was just another sign that he had reached the night’s limit for ale; reached, and more than passed.

Gimli held himself very still, schooling his expression to a placid calmness that might have rivaled Gandalf’s, and then he forced a smile and a nod—just in case Legolas was really looking; just in case he could really see him.

A shadow seemed to flicker across those bright elvish eyes, as though one of the torches near the door was on the verge of guttering; although when Gimli looked at them, they both appeared to be burning tall and strong still.

When he looked back, there was only a faint fading flicker of golden locks flowing around the corner as Legolas vanished into the night and Haldir’s arms.

Gimli sat there for several minutes, staring into the empty darkness of the door. The noise of the wedding revels that had once filled the hall with such bright merriment seemed to have faded now, somehow; he heard it from a distance, like echoes from some far-off cave. Eventually he forced himself to rise, and murmur unintelligible farewells as he passed his friends, and trudge his way across the long white hall towards the other door.

He stumbled back to the rooms the Fellowship shared, alone.

#this was supposed to be a little more silly and slapstick than it ended up being oops #sorry? and/or enjoy the angsty dwarf i guess #this isn't necessarily the ''canon'' ending to that fic btw #so i'm not going to be adding it on to the story #it's just...where this snippet happened in my head when i started writing idk #i promise to try and keep most of these totally stand-along moments #rather than things that you need to read other stories or know the context of specific aus for #anyway that one's pretty canon-based too; it's just aragorn and arwen's wedding #it just has some extra set-up before it if you want to read more scene-setting that's all #gimleaf #gigolas #send a kiss meme #my writing #my stuff #gimli #legolas #haldir #legolas x haldir

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 2 months

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Thranduil and Josie Pt. 170- Gypsy Origins Part 3 of 3

Summary: By the power of 3 times 3, let the truths of Jo's past finally be set free as Josselyn remains hypnotized by Haldir's power of truth. Her buried emotions evolve in a more descriptive manner which may not settle well with her when she is awakened.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, infidelity, mentions of child loss, child abandonment, child abduction

Chapter characters: Haldir, Josselyn, Julian, Caroline, Zeddicus, Jareth, Cassandra, Rumil, Orophin Chapter word count: 6,919

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Still under Haldir's powerful and unbreakable magic spell, Josselyn was permitted to relax while the Marchwarden tried to wrap his head around what she has revealed so far. What disturbed him the most, besides the revelation of your maternal grandfather, Viktor, the late vampire ruler and most diabolical of all fanged fiends, was yet another monstrous lie involving the witch turned vampire Caroline, your mother...or so everyone believed she was, because Haldir knew exactly where Josselyn's memories were headed. That Cassandra was your true birth mother. Faramir's also.

You would be hurt once again with that knowledge and as much as it crushed the Lorien elf's heart, you deserved every bit of the truth as to who you really were and he was going to give that to you. It had to be done and now... it was time to continue, for he now wanted to know more than ever just how your best friend Sarah became involved and if she could still be alive.

"It is time Josselyn. Continue....and please be discreet with any intimate details."

"I am so happy. I never thought I would see my grandfather again. Zeddicus is the only blood family I have left. This was my surprise Julian mentioned. He did this for me. Julian found him and brought him here. There was a time not long ago that he had left for a week. Now I know why. I love Julian even more now, but he must never know. Caroline will turn on me.

The sun is rising. We are all finishing the stew my grandfather had prepared for us for when we arrived. I am sitting by Julian. Caroline refuses to. She is barely touching her food. She has become withdrawn and when she does speak, it's retorting. Grandfather is across from me, holding a chicken while feeding and speaking to it. I've always believed he could understand animals and they him.

Grandfather wants to speak to me alone. We go for a walk. He tells me he has something for me. He has kept it safe for many years to give to me when I was old enough. He holds his hands out. They are empty. He places his fingers into his palm and magically pulls out a pendant. Dangling before me is a sparkling amethyst stone. There is something swirling inside of it. A mist? I am smiling in awe of it's beauty.

Grandfather...are you really a wizard? Like, a gypsy wizard maybe?

He is laughing and winks, then he whispers his traditional words when he does magic for me.

Hocus Pocus. It will be very useful to you as it has been for me. It must be placed over the heart to use it and it will take you wherever you wish to go in the blink of an eye. It is how I arrived here from the mundane world since I cannot fly like Julian. Be warned though, that you must always keep it safe, for it's one of 6 very powerful runestones and they all are greatly desired by evil hands. Like two of it's companions, the moonstone and the citrine, it can see the present, but this one is extra special because it can also see visions of the past and future. The stone's center possesses a very powerful water from the Lorien realm where it was created. And of course there is a little hint of...hocus pocus...in there as well."

Haldir's brow raised for a moment as he now recalled seeing Zeddicus in Lothlorien centuries ago with Celeborn and the Lady of the woods. He indeed was a wizard just as Josselyn had described him as, but not as powerful as Gandalf. He carried no staff, only a sword. Haldir remembered him as a puppeteer and magician. He communed with animals, had great knowledge and skill with herbs and potions and had the ability to change his image. He also possessed the power of fire and was a healer, even to the extent of limb rejuvenation.

"He then tells me what it does in more detail.

The past and present can be seen at any time, but the future can only be seen at 4 points of the year. The autumn and vernal equinox and the winter and summer solstice. It needs the rays of the full moon or the visions cannot be trusted. Be warned again that just because it holds such visionary power does not mean it should be entertained. There are many things we may end up wishing we did not know. Things like secrets of the past and present or traumatic events of the future.

The next morning comes. Grandfather and Julian are out on a walk. Caroline corners me. She overheard what the pendant can do. She wants me to use it for her to find Cassandra. I...I am clutching it tight. I'm scared of what she will do if she knows. I tell her I'm not sure how to even use it. She snaps at me. She tells me I better figure it out because I had promised to help her with her plan. I close my eyes and go with my instincts. I focus on Cassandra. I ask the stone to show me where she is and then I look into it. The misty swirl inside...it...it is clearing and I...I see her! I...I hear her!! So does Caroline. Cassandra is rubbing her stomach and singing to it. Hush little baby girl, don't say a word. Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird. She is pregnant!!! and she somehow knows it's a another girl.

Caroline is smiling very wickedly and speaks into the stone.

Gotcha. And now I will come to claim what should have been mine!

I am upset. I ask her if she is going to kill Julian's child. Now she is upset. She yells at me.

What is wrong with you??!!

Stupid girl! I am not going to kill MY child because that is exactly what this child will be! A 7th daughter with powers that will also be mine. Now listen and listen good to my plan. I am going to leave for awhile to tuck Cassie away where she will never be found, with a little help from a certain goblin King. And when she is near her due time, I will come for her and take her far far away to give birth. I can't risk Ravenna snatching the baby for herself if she were to find out. All I have to do is summon him. As evil as he has become, this will be one hell of a thrill for him and all I will have to do is give his cock a little something in return.

Julian's evil brother Jareth? You're...you're going to...sleep..with him?

Well there's the lightbulb. You catch on quick. Jules fucked my sister. I will fuck his brother. When I return, I will tell Julian I am finally with child and make him believe I have forgiven him due to our little miracle. With a little dark magic, I can easily make myself appear pregnant. It seems more feasible than turning to gluttony just to become fat.

But...w...won't he think the child is Jareth's?

"Noooooooowah??? I am not going to tell him I slept with Jareth until much later on...years maybe...after he's already bonded with and come to deeply love the girl and then rip his heart out by telling him she is Jareth's. You see, Julian is going to continuously suffer for what he did, because when I'm betrayed, I hold grudges. I hold them forever. Even naughty Narcisse is now on my shit list. It has come to my attention that the wretched warlock secretly visited our solstice party on his travels to return the cheating Catherine to her clueless King in Lake Town. He knew what Julian and my sister did and certainly was never going to tell me and he will pay for it too, so you better not even THINK of crossing me. You will keep your mouth shut about all of this. Do you understand me little girl?? I can always summon Harker to take you back. Now that you're older, he'll probably use you the way he does your mother. You don't want him to be your first time do you?

No! No please, no. I...I won't say anything. I promise Caroline!! Please don't send me back. I'll do anything!!

Good girl. Now, stop you're blubbering. It's unbecoming. I am going to go tell Julian some bullshit that I am going to go visit my mother and think about things. I should have Cassie all shackled in her little dirty dungeon of iron bars in no time and I will see you when I get back. And do not even think of spying on me with that pendant. Ta ta!

Julian has bought her story. He looks sad. She was cruel to him as he begged her not to go. I feel terrible and so guilty. How can she hurt him like this? How can I???

It is the next evening. Caroline is gone. Grandfather is at one of the traveler's camp sites for a party that Julian declined to attend. I stayed home too. I didn't want to leave him alone. Julian is quiet. He is having a glass of wine at the kitchen table. I think he is trying to drown his sorrows. I want to make him feel better. I...I am making myself extra pretty to see if he notices. I ask if I can join him for some wine. He looks up at me. His eyes dilate and he smiles. I think he notices. My stomach drops as if I am falling.

Please, Josselyn. Allow me to pour you a glass. You...you look very lovely this evening. Have you decided to join the festivities?

No...I...I am quite happy right here..with you...I..I mean...I...

I am too frazzled to speak. I feel so embarrassed. He notices that too. He is trying to make me feel comfortable. His lays his hand upon mine.

I understand what you mean. I...I enjoy your company as well.

I know I am turning red. I can feel the heat on my cheeks which he also notices.

Your cheeks are quite flushed love. Is the fire too warm...or could it be that I make you nervous?

He pulls his hand away. The way he is smiling...I...I think he knows how I adore him. He once said he knows many things if they are not hidden from him. I am most terrible at hiding my feelings.

No..no of course not. I..I think I overdid it on the rouge. That's all.

I see. You do not need all of that nonsense on your face. Your beauty is strikingly natural.

You...you are too gracious Julian. I...I am so sorry for what you are going through. You...you do not deserve it. You are the best man I have ever known aside from my father and grandfather.

He is staring at me. I think I said too much. I drink down my wine and pour another. He is chuckling.

I do not think you have known many men to really know that, have you?

I...I do not need to. I don't want to know any other but you.

He is staring again. I should not have said that. It is so hard to stop myself. I...I want him to know but yet I know he shouldn't.

Is that so? You are something special Josselyn. So very beautiful and kind, on the inside as well as out. If only I had met you first. May I...confide something in you?

Of course. Your secrets are safe with me.

My mother forbids love. It is all about darkness and power to her after she was scorned by my father. I am a 7th son. I am supposed to be with a 7th daughter and reproduce another 7th. It is an endless cycle. I have defied the darkness and my mother. I want love because I feel love inside of me. Although my union with Caroline was arranged, I believed I could love her and I learned to eventually, but it still never felt quite right or real. It was more physical attraction than anything. I began to focus on having a child to love. He or she would not be some number to me like I was, but Caroline has not been able to conceive. I was beginning to think that it was myself that was the problem until Caroline confessed something to me yesterday before she left. She had become pregnant 6 times and had miscarried them all. She knew they were girls. She believed I would find her useless to me so she chose to lie to me instead. The only thing I find useless now is continuing on with this farce of a union. I have had much to think about on our journey here and since she left. Caroline was right. I should have known that it was Cassandra I was intimate with. Although their appearance is identical, with real love, one should know the difference for many other reasons....but I did not. I realize more than ever that the only connection she and I truly have, to quite simply put it is....being of witch heritage. It is all quite a surreal awakening.

I...I want to cry and throw up at the same time. I did not know Caroline was going to use Cassandra's story as her own, but I see why she did. So Julian would believe her upcoming fake pregnancy was his 7th child and now, Julian needlessly suffers even more believing he has lost 6 other children. He trusts me and yet I am lying to him too. Would he ever understand why? I am not even worried for myself anymore. I fear Caroline will do something terrible to Julian if I tell him the truth. My love for him is very real. My tears, I cannot hold them back any longer. Julian comes to sit by me. He tilts his head and touches my cheek.

Darling girl, why do you cry?

I...I cry for you. Your pain, it hurts me so. I want to take it all away. You deserve happiness and...true love.

He is staring again. His head tilts the other way. He wipes my tears with his thumb. He cradles my head in his hands and....he...he is leaning forward. His lips...they take mine. Soft and fully. Mine fit and move perfectly with his. Our tongues slowly caress. He tastes of his scent. Apples. The really sweet ones. Am I dreaming??

He pulls back and stares into my eyes once more. I can see my reflection in his. His eyes are torn between desire and worry.

Josselyn, please forgive me...You bring weakness upon me. I would give anything to make love to you right now, but not even a kiss can ever happen again. Caroline's intuition is very strong. She would know and if she ever hurt you, I would never forgive myself. I never knew you would come to mean so much to my heart. I will forever taste your caramel kiss. You must go to your room now. Zeddicus is coming. I sense him.

But Julian...I...I...you need to know...I lo...

He rushes his fingers to my lips. There's a tear in his eye.

No! Do not speak it precious one. Not now. Just know that I know. I have always known. Sweet dreams Josselyn.

I hear my grandfather's whistling. I do as Julian says and go to my room. I silently cry myself to sleep. Damn you Caroline. I want to give the pendant to Julian and let him see what she is doing, but I cannot risk it. I wish I had been left with Harker, for this pain is far worse."

Haldir let Josselyn rest again. This part of her tale seemed to weigh the heaviest upon her. He needed a rest too, for he knew how evil and vindictive Caroline was even before she became a vampire, but what she had done to her own sister and her husband was just appalling to him and his heart even went out to Josselyn. He felt her pain. He knew it all too well for his love of you and seeing you hurting so much.

It was time to move on. He aided Josselyn in giving her some water from his canteen and then asked her to continue.

"The day I dreaded has come. Caroline has returned after 7 days. I am cooking, but listening as she tells Julian the news. He sits down. He looks as if a hole has been punched through his chest. I catch a glance of his eyes. They are sorrowful. He is forcing a smile at her. He is worried she will miscarry again and he tells her so. She is angry that he cannot just be happy they have another chance. My heart is breaking for him.

Month after month goes by. Everyday is the same. Caroline is still a bitch. The only difference is the growing of her fake stomach and my relationship with Julian. He rarely speaks to me now but I know it is not to hurt me. It is to keep her happy and unaware of his feelings.

It is November. Caroline says Cassandra will give birth in December. A 7th daughter only carries for 7 months and the child is always born on the 7th day. Caroline and Julian have been fighting all the time. I just want to hold him, but I keep my distance and go on walks a lot. I love nature....and I watch my mother through the pendant when I am alone. I am going to stop. She is so far under Harker's spell, that it is not even her at all anymore. She looks different. Older. She wears a red dress. There are others dressed the same. The sisters of the dark. My mother is as wicked as Harker is. My grandfather's heart is broken. He misses his daughter. I miss her too. He and Julian are leaving to attempt to bargain with Harker to get her back. I don't like it. Caroline does because Julian will be out of her way for her to "have" the baby. She is the one who coaxed him into going.

Before Julian leaves, he takes me aside. He looks in my eyes. The dear sweet man says he is doing it for me. He wants me to be happy. I tell him I do not deserve to be happy. He says I deserve the world and kisses my forehead. I tell him to stop and talk to me every night at midnight. I will be watching and listening through the pendant. He smiles, whispers the words "faithfully my dearest girl" and leaves. I go in my room and cry my eyes out into my pillow. I never should have told them what I saw. I always ruin everything. If Julian learns what I have done, he will look at me the way he looks at Caroline now. I...I'm curious of the future...my future, now more than ever but it's too late to see it. I heeded my grandfather's warning about it and skipped the open door of the autumn equinox in September. The winter solstice is approaching. I still will not look when it comes. I wish my grandfather never would have given it to me. He said I will need it. I do not need it except for to see and hear my beloved Julian.

It is December and time to gather Cassandra. Caroline and I pack up a small trailer and head to a desolate area away from the other travelers so they will not see us leave through the portal. She has brought two of her henchmen to drive the carriage and for extra protection. They are traitorous warlocks that do her evil bidding. We all sit tight together upon the carriage. I do as grandfather explained and wear the pendant over my heart. I whisper the words "take us to the Goblin King's realm."

I've never seen anything like it. A doorway forms with an illuminated gateway, purple with a swirling mist like the amethyst.

The horses become agitated and do not want to go through it. Neither do I. I am frightened like they are. The drivers each snap the horses on their rears with the whips and they race forward. Just like that, we are there, simply like walking into another room. I am even more fearful now. We are in a dark and dead forest. It smells bad. Caroline says it is the bog of stench that lingers through the realm.

We approach the Misty mountains and upon the summit sits a colossal castle. There are hideous beasts all over the mountain as we ascend on the winding path. Goblins and orcs. They do not bother us. They know who Caroline is. Oh my god, WHO is that?? A man...with eccentric blonde hair. He reminds me of Dracula in his creepy high collared black cape. He is sitting in on an open window ledge of the fortress. He is spinning something in his hands. I think they are crystal balls? 3 of them. He is staring at me.

We all enter the castle as the doors open. There are ticking clocks everywhere as well. All with a 13th hour. It is like a maze of hallways and strange staircases. Some upside down. It is making me dizzy and nauseous. So is the overpowering smell of citrus. The man arrives out of nowhere and kisses Caroline's neck.

Hello Caroline. My my. Quite the beanpole for being 7 months with child. Illusions are thrilling are they not? Speaking of...hello there...Josselyn. I am Jareth. How are you enjoying my labyrinth?

He is leaning over me, staring me right in the eyes. His eyes...one brown, one blue. They are...oddly beautiful just as he is. But he scares me. He's exactly like Harker and nothing like Julian.

I...I...think it is...lovely?

He is loudly laughing. Yes, the gloom and doom IS quite lovely is it not? So are you child. You should be after ingesting the magic of my Queen.

I...I am so sorry! I swear, I did not mean to.

He is laughing again. Relax girl. I am not going to harm you. I find what you did, intentional or not, rather amusing. I can quite picture Ravenna's fearful face as time was running out. Oh how I would so have loved to have been a cockroach on the floor to personally witness it. Wretched woman unnerves me and now, unfortunately she is carrying my offspring which she is ever so undeserving of. I should never have pleasured her after what she has done but...I too have needs. At least....It's a boy! And I can mold him into my image. Speaking of needs. Caroline. Before you collect your....surrogate...I don't think your payment was quite enough for what I am doing for you, so I am raising the price. Join me in my chambers and when I am satisfied, my lips will remain sealed and you may be on your way. Josselyn dear. Have a seat. We won't be long.

Caroline is displeased but does as he asks. She does not sound displeased though as I hear her moaning echoes through the halls. Gross.

All the clocks begin to chime on the 13th hour. It's disorienting. I run outside for peace...and to quickly see Julian while I have the chance, for it is midnight. I believe the placement of the moon over Jareth's time trickery.

I pull the pendant up from my chest and wait. I am shaking with anticipation and lovesick with butterflies. I...I see him. He is sitting in a forest all alone. The moon is radiating over him. He looks like an angel.

I am here my dear Josselyn. I hope you are too. I wish I could hear you, see you...like you can me. Zeddicus and I have had no luck thus far in locating Harker on his travels, but I will not give up. Zed is resting now so I can speak to you. He knows of my feelings. He told me he does not have to be a wizard to know, for it is written all over my face when I speak of you. That is why I have kept my distance and I never spoke of you to Caroline. It is a gutting agony. I miss you immensely beautiful butterfly, for that is what you have become. I still see your bright blue eyes and taste your caramel lips. I can feel your delicate skin and hair of silk. I still hear the pounding of your heart when we touched and smell the sensual aroma of your arousal. You have bewitched me for eternity without even trying. I wish all could be different. I must go now. Until next time sweetheart, sweet dreams. You will be in mine.

He is standing up to leave. I'm sobbing.

No! No Julian, don't go. Wait!

I quickly blow a soft kiss to his image and whisper how much I love him. His hair.... it is taken by it! He looks in the direction of the breeze and closes his eyes. He moans softly and touches his lips.

Mmmm. A whisper and caramel kiss on the wings of a butterfly. Message received. Lightning strikes maybe once, maybe twice and it lights up the night. I see my gypsy.

He blows a kiss back and smiles so wickedly adorable. I feel the kiss in my very soul. Now I know what my grandfather meant when he said the pendant even holds a hint of hocus pocus in it.

I hear Caroline! but it...it's not her.....I run back inside to see the warlocks man handling a dirty and angry Cassandra. She is wearing some odd collar around her neck made of metal. It is tight and it has a small dark gemstone in the center. Cassandra's stomach is huge! Her eyes lock in mine.

You?!! From the forest... help me...help me please!!

Her arm lunges at me as they pull her out the door. I jump back against the wall. There's nothing I can do. I follow them outside. They put her in the trailer and bind her to the bed. I ask Caroline what is on her neck. I...I saw it on my mother once when I was watching her. She says it's called a Rada'han. A warlock's favorite toy per se. It simply appears to be a jewelry piece and something only wicked warlocks use. She says they have different stones in them that serve different purposes. This particular one has an iron meteorite stone in it's center. It is like an iron, salt and silverbane cocktail to a witch, rendering them powerless and it's far more debilitating. The stone is tight against the skin and low doses of the poison are slowly and consistently released and absorbed into the body. The collar can only be removed by a key in which Caroline holds. I worry the poison will hurt the baby. Caroline says the 7th born is protected in the womb. Maybe that is why her stomach is that big for only one child?

Her goodbyes are said to Jareth and we are leaving. I am glad. Jareth's realm makes me feel sick like I did in Ravenna's dark forest. Caroline is fine. I think it's because she has now become dark. We are out of the realm now and we are stopping. Caroline says we will use the portal again. I ask where we are going. She says far far south to a realm of humans, a place where no one knows her or Julian. Minas Tirith in the realm of Gondor. There is an eminent midwife there that she will seek aid from. She serves the wife of the city's notorious steward, Denethor.

We have arrived. The city is a prodigious pyramid of stone placed alongside the White mountains. I have counted 7 levels as we approach it. Just in time too. It is the 7th and Cassandra is in labor.

We are stopped at the gates. Caroline unties Cassandra and removes the collar. She warns her to remain silent if she wishes to live after the birth. I do not think she could speak much if she wanted to. She is in pain and can barely open her eyes.

Caroline puts her hair up in a bun and wears the hood on her cloak. She does not want to be witnessed as a twin. She tells them that we are gypsy travelers in urgent need of a midwife and that she was told by others along the way to come here. The guards hear Cassandra's cries and look in on her. They quickly guide us inside. We are given a room on the first level and told to wait.

Time passes. Cassandra is moaning and crying.

I am patting her forehead with a cool wet cloth. She grabs my hand and squeezes it. I squeeze back and whisper to her that I am so sorry. I feel so bad for her. Caroline is angry and orders me to stay away from her. She wants her to suffer.

A woman comes in. She wears servant attire but it is rather fancy. She introduces herself as the midwife. She goes right to Cassandra and preps. They begin. She tells her she sees the head and to push on the next contraction. Cassandra is cursing and screaming. This goes on for 6 more attempts. The baby is out! The midwife cleans out her mouth, smacks her bottom and she squeals! I am crying happy tears. I have never seen a child birth. The baby has red hair!! Cassandra is crying and reaches for her. The midwife cuts and clamps the cord, then places her in Cassandra's arms. She kisses her tiny forehead and tells her she loves her. They gaze at each other. It' so beautiful.

Caroline is a cold hearted bitch. She pries the child from Cassandra's weak arms. Cassandra cries that she wants her baby. She begs Caroline not to take her and then she passes out. The midwife says she needs rest. Caroline thanks her for her help and gives her a small bag of coins. She tells her we do not have time to stay, that we have a long journey ahead and must get the child home to her father as soon as she awakens. She says she is going to the trailer to clothe and feed the baby, then she will be back. She tells me to stay.

I am sitting by Cassandra while the midwife cleans up. She awakens. She grabs my hand again.

Don't let her take them both.

What? What do you mean both?

The boy. She does not want a boy. She will kill him like she did all of my other babies.

What boy? There is no boy. You had one child. A girl.

There is a boy. Twins...you must take him. Please!

I..I think the exhaustion and the poison are affecting your mind. There is no boy and even if there were, I cannot have a child. Harker, he owns me and will take it from me for Ravenna and I certainly can't just walk out of here with a baby because Caroline would see him.

Cassandra starts to moan and scream again. I jump up in fright. The midwife comes running back. Her eyes widen. She says she is having another baby! I'm in shock. Cassandra was right. I stand and watch as another head of red hair appears. 3 pushes and he is out, instantly screeching. The midwife tries to place him in Cassandra's arms but she refuses and becomes cruel. She tells the midwife she does not want the little bastard and to give him to someone else. I think her harsh words and demeanor is intentional. She is trying to protect her son. She tells the midwife to never speak of this or she will curse her. Cassandra must have gained enough strength to use some of her power after having the collar removed. With a strong glare, she forces the midwife's breath out of her, making her begin to choke. She quickly releases the terrified woman who now understands what Cassandra is.

Now do you see what I am capable of? Now go! Get that thing out of here!

The woman runs out with the baby boy and Cassandra passes out again. I clean her up as I wait for Caroline to return. I am shaking so bad.

Caroline soon returns with the baby girl and her two guards. Cassandra awakens. I think she senses her baby's presence. I can smell the child. It's a strong cherry scent, much like Cassandra's. The boy smelled of sweet apples like Julian.

Caroline places the collar back on Cassandra and the guards force her to her feet. We are on our way once again. Caroline makes me take us back to the goblin realm. We stop in the dark forest and the guards drag Cassandra out. There...there is a hill...and a door at the bottom of it. It is barely visible from all the trees, rocks and brush. Caroline calls it the hole in the hill. She says Jareth has it prepared for Cassandra and it will now be her new home. The door is unbreakable. It can only be accessed by Jareth's ring. No one will ever know she is here. She will be believed dead by all. Caroline wickedly laughs as her sister is pushed inside with the collar still around her neck. I can faintly hear her banging on the door and crying. I am crying. I despise Caroline for this. For ALL of this. If only I had powers, I would handle Caroline. Then I would take the girl and run back to Julian and tell him everything, even if he hated me for it.

We are back at the cabin now. Caroline has the baby all settled into her cradle. She is calling her Josephine.

It is almost midnight again. I am unable to leave and see Julian in the pendant, for Caroline wishes to speak to me. She seems...strange.

Tell me Josselyn dear. Do you take me for a fool?

I...I'm sorry, what? No, of course not.

I find that to be a lie. Something that you are very good at too. The crystal balls Jareth has. They have the power to see just as your pendant does. Jareth showed me something before we left his realm for Gondor. No, no Julian, please don't go!!! Ring a bell??? Daring little girl aren't you?? Or should I say....whore?

Caroline, please...you don't unders...

Liar!! My eyes and ears understand quite perfectly! You desire my husband as he desires you! Go on, deny it! I dare you!

I...I...wh...what are you going to...do to me??

Well unfortunately, I certainly cannot kill you. I don't need Harker coming after me, so I will do the next best thing. You will leave here and never speak of what you know to ANYONE and you will NEVER come near my husband or child ever again. If you do, I will have no choice but to take my chances with Harker's wrath. Grab your things and don't let the portal door hit you in the ass.

But...my...my grandfather! Please, let me wait for him.

I said get out...now! You can spy on him later and find him!

She follows me while I gather my stuff and then watches me as I walk off into the dark cold night. I trip and fall in the forest. I can't breathe. I am crying too hard. Julian, my sweet Julian. I'll never see him again. He'll never know the truth. What if she hurts him for knowing how he feels?? Maybe...I think I know someone who might be able to help. But...I...I could die for it....and I would...I would die for Julian's safety and happiness. I'm still afraid. She could kill him if I betray her. I don't know what to do!

I get up. I put the pendant on and I say the words. Take me to the Dorwinion castle."

Josselyn began to hyperventilate and Haldir quickly attempted to calm her with his emotion control as he took her hand, but it did not work. She was getting worse. The Lorein elf knew he had to bring her out of his hypnotic spell before she forgot everything. He couldn't risk it...or her well being. She still had not spoken of Lola and Sarah and that had been his main goal.

As his dilated eyes relaxed, Josselyn was released.

She toppled over against his chest and he allowed her to lay there until she caught her breath. A motion of his hand told Rumil and Orophin to give her some privacy, for he knew when she came to her senses, he was going to get an ear full of well deserved rage.

"Josselyn. Are you able to sit up? I would like you to drink some more of the healing water."

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of Haldir's voice and she rolled them up to look at him. Haldir sighed, for her big blue eyes were filled with tears and pain. He never meant to hurt her.

She tilted her head to the side and gazed at him as if she did not know him, but she did. At least she thought she did as she stroked his blonde strands.

"J...Julian? You...you're here. You came for me. I...I love you so much."

Haldir was caught off guard when Josselyn pulled his lips to hers. In his perplexed state, he allowed it. It felt nice to have a woman's lips upon his again, although he wished they were yours. The kiss was full and deep, but Haldir abruptly ended it when her tongue slipped into his mouth.

Josselyn's eyes gaped as Haldir's face came into focus, then her eyes filled with rage.

"You! You son of a bitch!!"

The palm of her hand cracked hard and loud across his cheek and off she stormed through the forest. As Haldir caught up to her, she spun around, still raging mad.

"How dare you!! You wicked little elf man!! No one. No one was supposed to ever know those things!! Do you know what you've done??!! I am as good as dead now! If I had my powers, I would string you up in that tree by your balls!"

Rumil and Orophin arrived and raised their bows at her.

"Baw!" (No) Haldir snapped as he raised his hand at his brothers.

"Your anger is justified. You know why I had to force you. Jo deserves to know the truth. Do you not care about her??"

"What kind of question is that?? Of course I do! I was like a mother to that girl when....arrrgh! Just never mind!"

"I will not never mind. Tell me the rest. Help me help her. I can help you too. I will let no harm come to you. You can trust me."

Josselyn laughs hysterically. "Like you just now let harm come to me?? I have been on my own for so many years and I trust no one! Especially an elf! And obviously with good cause! And don't you think for one minute that I enjoyed that kiss!"

"So be it. Just know, when we return to the castle, I am going to show Jo all of this and she will seek you out for the rest of the answers. Knowing her like I do, she is going to be far more angry than you are right now, for you knew all of this and never told her. I would say you are much better off to tell me now and then I can speak with her and try to make her understand your reasoning."

Josselyn was quiet as she stared at him, then she softly spoke.

"You...you would actually do that for me? Try to help me, even after...after all of this. I mean...I...I kissed you, then I slapped you for one thing."

"I will. I am an elf of my word. As I said, you can trust me. You are safe. I will protect you."

Her eyes were skeptical for a moment and then she sighed.

"Alright. Fine. Have a seat. But you better buckle up elf boy. There's many more twists and turns."

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