#Eomer Simping Disease

[celeluwhenfics]

Uh I was looking for something else, but then I found this gif??

The cuteness??!??

We've got:

-Gimli half-naked

-Legolas with a ponytail, a bandana, and some kind of surfer rashguard I guess

-Gandalf smiling

-and ÉOMER LAUGHING?????

Excuse me while I go swoooooooon

[frodothefair]

Ok but… Éomer as a father of girls.

He is going to be the most protective, most doting father ever, who will mess up anyone who has even a whiff of dishonorable intentions with The Mûmakil Piercer (tm). Also, he has mad hair braiding skills.

(Not depicted directly in TGH except maybe in an epilogue, but certainly spoken of as a hypothetical.)

[sotwk]

The conundrum of using gifs and pics of your blorbo character for fic writing inspiration...

...but they keep distracting you and frying your brain cells instead. How am I supposed to get anything done??

This. This is the gif. Please send help.

[tvertimot]

Éomer x OC - Deep down chapter 7

Chapter 6 | Masterlist

Nartíhl felt like the world had stopped and she was spinning instead. 

She heard nothing but the beating of her own heart and the blood pulsing in her ears. 

Her vision got blurry and the room around her flipped to its side. The next thing she saw was her servants’ faces. They were holding her. She must have fainted.

Her three servants helped her get up and escorted her to the nearest chair. 

They were currently in the great room in which they always welcomed the visitors. It was a big chamber, almost a hall. Two rows of windows letting the sun in.

Opposite to the beautifully framed door a long table was set up and at the very top of it - a chair in which her father always sat. Behind the chair there was a big window with stained glass presenting a red snake against a purple background. It was a very presentable room, with its decor and elegance measuring up to the royal halls. But they were not royals. They were however nobles and very rich, with a great share of land.  

Her father was sitting on his big chair at the top of the big table, across which some papers were spread. 

He stood up and  walked slowly towards her.  -No need to be this dramatic. Marriage is not the end of the world.

-Easy for you to say! You’re a man! - Nartíhl  grunted, still feeling a bit dizzy. 

-Watch your mouth, my deer! Don’t act so surprised. You’re a clever girl, you must have known well what was coming towards you. It is high time for you to get married, a few more years and we would have serious trouble finding you a good husband. 

He stood close to the chair she was sitting on and looked down at her. -Don’t look at me like this. I am doing it for everybody's good, you included. It’s not like I’m selling you to a bunch of savages.

-You might as well do it! I don’t want to marry this man!

-Why? He’s not old. And you will be a Queen, Nartíhl!

-Of Rohan! 

-But a Queen! 

-You know well what they say about them. - Nartíhl argued and crossed her arms on her chest. - What do they say about them? - Lord Idhoril was fighting very hard to stop his amusement.

-That they are illiterate savages who sleep in the barn with their horses! And the men share… all their possessions… - she stuttered but both her and her father knew what gossip she was referring to. 

The previous amusement stepped aside for a frown of concern on the Lord’s face. 

-Look. I know you are scared. But repeating the simple folk tales won’t be much use for you right now. The Rohirrim are a great nation and king Éomer is a great warrior. Besides, Nartíhl  - Lord Idhoril  let out a short chuckle - a bit of a simpler life closer to nature would serve you well since you think the horses are being kept in the barns.

Nartíhl  unwittingly let out a squeak. She did not want a simpler life! She liked her life. 

-You being crowned a queen will be a big honour to all our family. Don't be ungrateful and superficial. 

Nartíhl pouted.

-Is that why you’ve sent Bronandîr away? -  she asked quietly. 

Her father’s head snapped and for a moment the girl thought he will get furious with her but he slowly kneeled in front of her and said quietly but firmly:

-Listen to me very carefully now. I did not know King Éomer would ask me to marry you. But I was working hard to bring some attention to you for a while now. I have sent him away first and foremost because he deserved this promotion - it was a reward not a punishment. But you need to forget about this man. From now you shall not even think, leave alone say his name.

Nartíhl  remained silent, fighting with tears building up in her eyes.

-Look at me, sunshine. 

She gave a reluctant and angry look into her father’s eyes. 

-I did it because I hoped it would make things easier. By the time you get married you need to get this man out of your heart and mind. You better get rid of all this childish nonsense by then, Nartíhl.

She looked him straight in the eyes but remained silent. 

-In such a case all is settled. Tomorrow I will present to the legates my conditions and then they will depart to bring their king the good news. Are you able to walk back to your room?

Nartíhl shook her head no. She was afraid that the moment she tried to stand up, she would collapse into pieces. 

Lord Idhoril nodded to the guards standing next to the door - Help to escort the young lady to her chambers. If needed, carry her. 

And so he left the room. As always he made the decisions, moved the pawns and then left and hid the moment there were consequences to face.

She was trying to prepare herself for this but yet the news crashed her like an avalanche of stones. Nartíhl’s world had just fallen into pieces and she was on the verge of shattering herself. 

Chaper 8 soon

****

TAGLIST:

@konartiste @emmanuellececchi

I know the pace is slow but I promise we're getting closer to the moment Mr. Confident and Miss Nostalgia finally meet, I promise!

If you enjoyed the story please like/reblog <3

[eclecticqueennerd]

Forge of the Heart

*Prologue*

You were sent, along with your older brothers Thor and Loki, to the Council of Elrond on your father, King Odin’s, behalf. While at the Council, you were met with odd stares, especially by the men of Gondor. You took the interaction as one of curiosity, not many have seen an Asgardian, let alone an Asgardian woman. That was until you heard whispers of how a woman was accepted into the discussion chambers and how it may ‘scar your fragile mind”. Before you could speak out on your behalf, Aragorn, a Ranger you had met a handful of times in your travels, spoke,

“That is y/n Odinsdottir. She deserves respect as much as you would show her kin.” You turn your head to Aragorn and give him a nod, he nods back. You take your seat and wait for the meeting to begin. Elrond took his seat and started the meeting. It was about a matter of great importance, what to do with the One Ring. Many shared their opinions, a few of which came from your eldest brother Thor.

“I agree with you Thor Odinson. The ring must be destroyed.” Elrond proclaimed. You looked around the chamber, collections of elves, dwarves, and men all looked around at each other undecided about what to do next. Suddenly, a dwarf with auburn hair and beads in his beard leaps up out of his seat and reaches for his battle axe.

“Then what are we waiting for?” The dwarf, you’d come to know later as Gimli, wields his axe above his head and drives it onto the pedestal on which the ring lay. His weapon shatters as he himself goes flying backward. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the young hobbit, Frodo, keel over and grasp his head.

“The ring cannot be destroyed Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess. The ring was forged in the fires of Mount Doom, only there it can be unmade.” Elrond spoke eloquently. An uproar began in the chamber of who would be the one to take the ring to Mordor. Men, you thought as you rolled your eyes, they always bicker and never come to a resolution. Even your brother Thor joined in on the squabble while you and Loki watched.

“I will take it!” a small voice echoed out. Everyone in the chamber continued quarreling but it caught your attention. The voice became louder as the one who spoke stood up and approached Elrond’s chair. “I will take the ring to Mordor!” Frodo. Those around quieted down and began staring at the halfling. “Though, I do not know the way.” Then, one by one members of the council offered their services to escort the hobbit to his destination. Your brothers, Thor and Loki, watched as the brave members stood in an assembly line next to the halfling while you were waiting for one of your kin to offer their support. But it never came. Fed up with the lack of incentive to help, you stood up from your chair and approached Frodo,

“I will serve you as best I can Master Baggins.” Standing next to the wizard named Gandalf, you glanced and saw Thors eyes, he was displeased.

“Oi! We’re coming too!” Two more hobbits came out from behind the pillars of the chamber. Merry and Pippin were their names.

“Besides you need someone of intelligence on this sort of mission… quest… thing!” You snickered quietly.

“Ten companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.”

*

“Sister, do you understand the gravity of the mission you have signed up for?” Thor's voice boomed through the stone halls as the three of you went to your assigned shared bed chambers.

“I understand there are risks brother.” You sigh, readying your belongings for travel.

“Then perhaps you should rethink this. Come back home instead.”

“And break my vow to Frodo? My honor will not allow it! Besides, neither of you offered your aid, someone from Asgard had to represent.”

“Father will be furious. He told us to only observe.”

“Really Thor, must you always do what Father tells you?”

“As the eldest and next in line for the throne, yes I will do what our king tells us.”

“Even when it’s against your beliefs?” You face your brother, hands on your hips giving him a defiant stare. Loki chortles as he watches from the sidelines. When it came to personality, you were a mix of the two brothers. You are loyal to those you care about, headstrong, and always up for creating mischief. Being the youngest of King Odin's three children, your brothers always teased you were father's favorite and claimed you got away with a lot. Thor, married to Lady Jane, next in line for the throne, had to uphold the responsibility that came with that title. Loki married his longtime friend, Sylvie, you’d swear they were the same person with how similar in personality they were. You? You either declined or ran off every suitor that came calling. Your mother and Queen, Frigga, always badgering you about making your debut in high Asgardian society, you were repulsed by the idea. You would not be caught dead with any pompous dukes that could not spar worth a damn. Nor would you change for any man, they would either accept you for who you were or they were sent packing.

“Brother, you know as well as I we cannot change y/n’s mind. She is as stubborn as a mule. We’ve had our fill of adventures and glory, it’s time y/n to have hers as well.” Loki finally speaks, and he sets his hand on your shoulder. “I just hope you know what you’re doing. Promise me you’ll send a raven if you need help.” You smile at the second eldest and out of the corner of your eye, Thor shakes his head. You place your hands on both of his shoulders and say,

“Thor, I know you care. We’ve dueled countless times and you’ve said yourself that you pity the fool who crosses my path. Brunnehilde ensured that she personally trained me to be the best I could be before we left. Behind all the fury in your eyes, I see that you are scared. You have nothing to fear. I can do this.” Thor shifts his feet back and forth and then scoffs after a moment of silence.

“I do not get scared.” A smile spreads on his face and he grips you into a fierce hug, you hug him back with as much strength. While the three of you don’t always see eye to eye, there is no doubt that your brothers love you, and you them.

[kylobith]

Thank you @konartiste for giving me yet another reason to procrastinate

[dreambigdreamz]

me : armours are so unattractive éomer : damn it, woman, i'm just trying not to die!

— reference I fell in love with Éomer due to the scene in the books (or rather it was then I realised full-on that this was gonna be a serious thing for me) where he is released from imprisonment and is described as wearing no mail or armour. Imagining this man without his armour just makes it so much endearing to his humility and vulnerability 🫠 go away, Reason, I am in simping mode I do not have to be reasonable.

[psychomorphary]

[just--a--random--human--being]

He's transmasc and colorblind and hot

Change my mind

[frodothefair]

So I really like the first image. He's like, "I am going to carry a saddle and be passive aggressive and have opinions."

I really feel that the saddle adds something to the scene.

When I shared this with Mr. Nisilë, he said, "yeah, it's like a guy grumbling while parking a car."

Karl Urban as Eomer THE LORD OF THE RINGS: The Return of the King (2003) dir. Peter Jackson

[celeluwhenfics]

Super happy to say that I seem to have successfully developped a passage that was previously outlined with the mere five words "She thinks: FUCK HE'S HOT" into a full 600 words of acceptable, expletive-free English prose.

ETA: The passage is now out in chapter 2 of pHORSEuasion!

[frodothefair]

It is weird that this meme exists and that I was not the one who made it.

[psychomorphary]

I just realized that I love my long hair so much because it reminds me of the hairstyles in Lord of the Rings. Specifically, my curls and natural hair color (a kind of strawberry blonde or something) remind me of the hair of Rohan.

This gives me intense gender euphoria, especially since I'm about to start T. Hopefully, I'll look more like Eomer or something once the changes start. That would be the ultimate gender transition and euphoria.

[dreambigdreamz]

This is very very beautiful.

But it brought to me a thought.

Centuries later, it will become naturally obscure whether Mithrellas was ever willing to marry Imrazor or if there were other circumstances.

I, as a Tolkien romanticist, like to believe her story was just as beautiful and poignant as the other elven ladies who fell in love with mortals.

But this little point of detail makes up for a sweet headcanon in my mind, that I felt to share with y’all because I haven’t done anything Éothíriel in quite a while.

Imagine Éomer before his wedding to Lothíriel, and they are standing on the shores of Dol Amroth, and he voices his worry honestly that he believes Lothíriel deserves the best and he might not be able to give her that and everyone else probably feels the same way.

Lothíriel replies by holding his hands in her own, saying gently but firmly, “Those who do not know, and those who come after our time, may well speculate on our choices and actions and imagine all sorts of complications when really, it is as simple as the Sun setting to the West, and as sure as another day will dawn again after the Night, that I love you as you love me. And that is all that will matter for us.”

Little might they have known, they would go down through history to be one of the most beloved couple in the fandom 🥰

Yeah, this is probably nonsense, but I just wanted to point out something about outsiders speculating on a love that’s only shared and understood by two people.

I have the honour and happiness to tag: @konartiste !

lesser-known legendarium ladies ✰ mithrellas

Legend holds that MITHRELLAS was a silvan elleth who was traveling with Nimrodel from Lothlórien when she lost her way in the forests of Dor-En-Ernil. It was there that she was discovered by Imrazôr, a prince of the south of Gondor, who supposedly took her as his wife. She thence bore him two children, Galador and Gilmith. Shortly after, she fled from her husband and children, and was never heard from again. From her children came the ruling line of the Princes of Dol Amroth. Over the centuries, the tale of  MITHRELLAS has raised many questions: of her willingness in it, of her ultimate fate, and whether she ever existed at all.

[celeluwhenfics]

pHORSEuasion - Chapter 2. The Golden Hall

Rowena was under the table on her hands and knees, reaching between the legs of heavy chairs to dab the spill, when the doors of the hall rolled open. The sudden breeze that rushed in excited the fire in the hearth, which was all she could see from her tight station. This fresh draught come from the plains carried smells of snow, wet grass and leather, but also the essence of something else, something that made her heart bolt. She knew at once: these were his steps; this was his armour clinking; this was the sweep of his cloak on the ground. And this was his voice, his warm, coppery, proud voice. This would be their first encounter since she had tearfully sent him away, nearly five years earlier. A thousand feelings rushed on her, of which this was the most consoling, that it would soon be over. Théoden was agitated by his nephew’s entrance: Rowena could hear him kicking and flailing through Éowyn’s efforts to soothe him. Éomer asked sympathetically after his well-being since his visit in the morning. As Éowyn busied herself around her uncle, who quickly tired out of this new alarm, he inquired about Bréda’s mare and her enjoyment of her ride with Théodred. She gave an enthusiastic and verbose account of the recent antics of her horse, and of the good weather that had delighted them on their promenade. In turn, she asked after Fýrfot’s health. Rowena was glad for the tablecloth that concealed her and afforded her a short moment to harden her nerves. She would have liked to know how he felt as to a meeting. Perhaps indifferent, if indifference could exist under such circumstances. He must have been either indifferent or unwilling. She wondered if he had been informed of her arrival, or if he would have wished to avoid seeing her. As much as she dreaded the encounter, the mortification she would suffer if she were found pitiably hiding to evade it would exceed anything else, and every moment she tarried under the table increased her danger. She could delay no longer; she drew a deep breath and rose to her feet. But all those in attendance, accustomed to the presence of brown-clad servants sliding in and out of shadows and crouching under tables, took no notice of her as she gazed at him, awe-struck.

Read Chapter 2 on AO3

Start at Chapter 1

Cool dividers by @quillofspirit! Thank you!!!

[frodothefair]

Frodo will always be my absolute fave, but unlike Eomer, he can not wear a man bun.

I absolutely adore man buns.