#I made a promise mr. frodo

[mynnub-blog]

Remember when I promised to draw the fellowship? XD

Happy Tolkien Reading Day!

[windwakering]

@31-radical

And I’m coming with you (my art 🎨: ball point pen : black, red, green, blue, turquoise)

[cat-cosplay]

"I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise. 'Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee.' And I don't mean to."

[daenerys-stormborn]

I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise. "Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee." And I don't mean to. I don't mean to.

-The Fellowship of the Ring

[frieza-pp]

“I made a promise, Mr Frodo. A promise. ‘Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee.’ And I don't mean to. I don't mean to.”

[the-books-we-travel]

The writing for the original trilogy is truly incredible. Sometimes all it takes to make me cry is remembering a single line from the Lord of The Rings movies.

"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

“I would have followed you, my brother, my captain, my king."

“I made a promise, Mr Frodo. A promise. ‘Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee.’ And I don't mean to. I don't mean to.”

“If by my life or death I can protect you, I will.”

“So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?”

“No parent should have to bury their child.”

“I would rather share one lifetime with you, than face all the ages of this world alone.”

"Hroom, hm, come, my friends. The Ents are going to war. It is likely that we go to our doom. The last march of the Ents"

“That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.”

“…..For Frodo…..”

“Home is behind, the world ahead”

“I can't carry it for you... but I can carry you!”

“Ride now!... Ride now!... Ride! Ride to ruin and the world's ending! DEATH!”

“My body is broken. You have to let me go. I go to my fathers, in whose mighty company I shall not now feel ashamed.”

“Some things are certain. If I leave him now, I will regret it forever.”

“End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path... One that we all must take.”

“Give me your hand. Take my hand. Don't you let go. Don't let go... REACH!”

“The last pages are for you, Sam.”

SOBBING

[steel-type-connie]

Hi everyone. I’m Constance, a 31-year-old transgender American.

To all my friends and loved ones who reached out to me over the phone or gave me a hug at work today: thank you. 💜 it really meant the world to me.

I left work early today and spent most of the afternoon crying and sleeping. Now I’m ready to share some thoughts.

I’m not going to lie, I’m terrified. Terrified for the future of our country and the free world, for Ukraine and Gaza. Terrified of losing access to healthcare that IS ACTIVELY saving my life, terrified of becoming the victim of a hate crime in an increasingly violent and bigoted America, or of being made to choose between being forced back into the closet or being prosecuted as a sex offender for using the ladies’ room or wearing one of my famous dresses.

I’m also furious. Furious at the feckless, cowardly politicians who have enabled his malfeasance and corruption time and again. Furious at the millions of Democrats who stayed home or voted third-party in swing states. Furious at the millions of cruel, ignorant Americans who support him, and that we all have to deal with the ramifications of a new Trump regime for years, possibly an eternity. Furious that, god damn it, I’m a productive member of society just trying to better myself and live a normal goddamn life, and I shouldn’t have to worry about the federal fucking government coming after me.

But I’m still here.

I’m promising myself I’m not giving up, even when it’s really hard to keep going on.

I’ll close with this quote from Sam Gamgee:

“It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?

“But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something… That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.”

[sonics-atelier]

Blooms of Friendship: Thorin and Bilbo's Garden Challenge

For @bagginshieldweek24 Day 6 : Single Parents/Uncles AU + Gardening

Summary: Mr Gamgee has a gardening competition, Thorin doesn't have a green thumb so frodo helps, cue fluff.

a/n : I had a blast writing this, btw if anyone cares Sam and Frodo went frolicking in the Forest later.

In the peaceful heart of the Shire, where the hills rolled gently under a sky that seemed perpetually blue, Gaffer Gamgee announced a grand gardening competition. The rules were simple: whoever could grow the most beautiful, vibrant garden in a month would be declared the winner. The competition stirred excitement among the hobbits, and even more so for Master Baggins and Master Oakenshield.

Bilbo, ever the lover of nature, had always kept a flourishing garden. His flowers bloomed brightly, their colors a vivid tapestry that delighted the eyes. Thorin, on the other hand, was a dwarf of stone and steel, more accustomed to the cold beauty of gems than the delicate life of plants. Yet, never one to back down from a challenge, Thorin decided to participate.

For the first two weeks, Bilbo’s garden thrived as expected. Flowers of every hue and fragrance filled the air with a sweet perfume, and Bilbo took great pleasure in watching them grow. Thorin, however, found himself in a different predicament. Despite his best efforts, his garden was a desolate sight—wilted plants and dry soil that seemed to mock his determination.

It was during one of these frustrating afternoons that Frodo, Bilbo’s young nephew, noticed Thorin’s plight. With a gentle smile, Frodo approached the dwarf. “Uncle Thorin,” he began, his voice encouraging, “I could help, if you’d like. Gardening just takes a little patience and understanding.”

Thorin looked at Frodo, surprised but grateful. “I’d appreciate that, Frodo,” he replied, nodding. “Perhaps you can teach this old dwarf a thing or two about the Shire’s secrets.”

And so, Frodo took Thorin under his wing, guiding him through the basics of gardening with the wisdom that came so naturally to the hobbit folk. Together, they tilled the soil, planted new seeds, and tended to the ailing plants with care. Under Frodo’s patient instruction, Thorin began to see the subtle changes in his garden. Slowly but surely, green began to spread, and small buds appeared, promising blooms yet to come.

As the competition drew to a close, Thorin’s garden was not the most vibrant, nor the most extravagant, but it was alive and blooming—a testament to his perseverance and Frodo’s guidance.

The day of the competition arrived, and the hobbits gathered to admire each other’s hard work. Samwise, acting as the judge, made his rounds, carefully inspecting each garden. Bilbo’s garden was, of course, a sight to behold—full of color and life, just as it had been from the start. Thorin’s garden, though more modest, held a charm of its own, with sturdy flowers and a sense of quiet resilience.

When the results were announced, Bilbo secured a well-deserved second place. Thorin, to his surprise, was awarded third place, his efforts recognized by Old Gaffer Gamegee, who appreciated the effort and care that had gone into reviving the once desolate plot.

Bilbo laughed warmly when Thorin’s name was called, the sound full of mirthy. Thorin, however, had eyes only for Frodo as he handed the boy the bronze medal. “This belongs to you, Frodo,” Thorin said sincerely, “You’ve taught me much, and this is as much your victory as it is mine.”

Frodo beamed, clutching the medal with pride. “Thank you, Uncle Thorin,” he said, his face alight with joy.

As the crowd began to disperse, Thorin placed an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders, drawing him close. The two of them stood together, watching as the evening sun cast a golden glow over the Shire. Bilbo leaned into Thorin’s side, a contented smile on his lips.

“You know,” Bilbo said teasingly, “I never thought I’d see the day you’d take up gardening, Thorin.”

Thorin chuckled, his gaze soft as he looked down at Bilbo. “Well, I never thought I’d enjoy it, but it seems the Shire has a way of surprising even the most stubborn of dwarves.”

Bilbo grinned, tilting his head to meet Thorin’s eyes. “It certainly does.”

Without another word, Thorin leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Bilbo’s forehead, a simple gesture that spoke of quiet affection and shared contentment. In that moment, there were no grand declarations or flowery speeches—just the peaceful understanding between two souls who had found a home in each other, in a land where flowers bloomed as brightly as their love.

- @sonics-atelier 2024 , do not repost or reuse in any way , shape or form.

[dewdropdinosaur]

The Last Path to You

Frodo x M Reader Summary: Frodo and Y/N sit atop Mount Doom, the end is near. However, not everyone survives the Ring. Warnings: Death, feelings. PG For my friend @pixie-skull enjoy!

The air was thick with smoke, the remains of Mount Doom swirling around in a frenzy of ash and magma. Frodo lay on the rocks, his body battered and weak, every breath a painful reminder of the journey he had enjoyed. 

“We did it, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said, his voice a ragged whisper. “It’s over.”

Frodo nodded slowly, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Memories washed over him: the day the Fellowship had split, the despair of losing Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli to their own battles. The loneliness of the Ring had been suffocating, but Sam and Y/N had stayed by his side, despite his faults and slights against them. 

“Y/N,” Frodo murmured, turning his head slightly. “Are they—”

“They’re right here, Mr. Frodo,” Sam assured him, his voice breaking. “We’re all together.”

The distant sound of wings stirred the heavy air. The Eagles descended, their massive forms cutting through the smoke, followed closely by Gandalf, his presence a beacon of hope amid the chaos.

As the Eagles landed, Frodo’s vision blurred. He felt the warmth of Y/N’s hand slip away. “Stay with me,” he pleaded, though he barely had the strength to speak.

“I’m here, Frodo,” Y/N replied, their voice soft yet steady. But as they leaned closer, Frodo could see the paleness of their skin, the blood pooling around them like a dark promise. 

“We’ll make it out of this. I promise.”

The last thing Frodo remembered before darkness claimed him was the sound of Gandalf’s voice calling for him and the warmth of Y/N’s grip around his hand.

---

When Frodo awoke, the world was bright and peaceful. Rivendell. He blinked against the light, confusion settling over him like a heavy blanket. The pain he had felt fo so long had slipped away. 

Voices filled the air, laughter echoing as he turned to see familiar faces gathered around him.

“Frodo!” Merry’s joyful shout broke through the haze, followed by Pippin’s exuberance. “You’re awake!”

But as the celebrations swirled around him, a gnawing emptiness pierced through the joy. Frodo’s gaze darted from face to face, seeking a presence that should have been there. 

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, the question hanging heavy in the air.

The laughter faded, replaced by an uncomfortable silence. Elrond stepped forward, his expression grave. “Frodo… Y/N has passed.”

The words struck harder than the pierce of the Morgul blade.

 “No,” he breathed, tears blurring his vision. “They were… they were right here.”

Elrond knelt beside him, extending a small rope ring, the one Y/N had made long ago—a simple yet beautiful craft. 

“This was their last wish for you. They wanted you to have it.”

Frodo’s hands trembled as he took the ring, it was a promise of love and loyalty, now forever entwined with the pain of loss.

“I couldn’t save them,” Frodo whispered, choking on his grief.

“You fought bravely, Frodo,” Gandalf said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The hero is often rarely rewarded in struggle, but the reward enough is knowing that those we have lost, loved us to the very end.”

The laughter around him, the joy of victory, turned to ash in his mouth. How could he celebrate a victory when the light of his life had been extinguished?

---

Months had passed since that fateful day on the slopes of Mount Doom, yet the memories still felt vivid to Frodo. The Shire had resumed its tranquil rhythm, but he often found himself wandering its familiar paths with a heaviness in his heart.  Frodo clutched the ring, its presence both a comfort and a constant reminder of what he had lost. As he looked out over the rolling hills of the Shire, he realized that the journey had changed him forever, each step carved into his soul.

On a crisp evening, he, Sam, Pippin, and Merry gathered at the Green Dragon, the warmth of the tavern enveloping them like it used to. The air buzzed with laughter and the clinking of mugs, but Frodo felt a bittersweet edge to the merriment. The ale didnot taste as refreshing, Merry and Pippins dancing didn’t shake the tables the same; it all was different.

“Here’s to our journey!” Pippin raised his mug high, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “And to Y/N, who was braver than all of us!”

“Aye!” Merry chimed in, his voice strong despite the pang of loss. “To Y/N, who always found a way to make the dark times brighter!”

Frodo raised his mug too, the wooden surface cool against his palm. As he looked down, he caught sight of the rope promise ring glinting on his finger, a tangible reminder of the love that had once illuminated his darkest moments. With a gentle kiss pressed to the ring, he whispered, “For you, Y/N.”

Sam, sitting beside him, leaned closer, his eyes soft with understanding. “They’d want you to find joy again, Frodo. We all would.”

With a small nod, Frodo tried to embrace the warmth of the moment. They toasted once more, the clamor of the tavern swirling around them, a symphony of life that felt both beautiful and heartbreaking. They shared stories, laughter bubbling over, yet Frodo’s heart lingered in a quiet space, half-listening, half-lost in reflection.

As the sun began to set over the rolling hills, casting golden hues across the Shire, Frodo found himself at the riverbank, his heart pounding with an unexplainable urgency. He had received word that Gandalf and Elrond were waiting for him, and he knew this moment had arrived.

The boat to the Gray Havens rocked gently in the water, the shimmering surface reflecting the fading light. As he approached, he saw Gandalf, his wise eyes twinkling with both sorrow and solace, and Elrond, whose expression bore the weight of countless farewells.

“Frodo,” Gandalf greeted him, his voice warm. “Are you ready?”

Frodo’s heart swelled as he stepped onto the boat. The ache of loss still resided within him, but it felt lighter, almost like a whispering promise. “I am,” he replied, glancing back at the Shire, where the lights of familiar homes twinkled like stars. “I will always carry them with me.”

Elrond nodded solemnly, understanding the depth of Frodo’s resolve. As they drifted further from the shore, Frodo’s heart raced with anticipation and hope. The waters parted before them, the horizon opening up like a door to a world beyond.

“Y/N is waiting for you, Frodo,” Gandalf said softly, as the first stars began to appear in the twilight sky. 

Frodo felt a surge of warmth at those words. As the boat glided smoothly toward the Gray Havens, he gazed into the distance, his heart open to the possibilities that lay ahead. He could almost feel Y/N beside him, their laughter echoing through the ages, wrapping around him like a gentle breeze.

In that moment, Frodo understood that this journey was not an end, but a new beginning. A journey to reunite with the love he had lost, to find peace at last. With the rope ring on his finger and memories held close, he embraced the horizon, ready to sail into the unknown, knowing that no matter what, he would be with Y/N again.

[qprsmackdown]

Round 1 Match 8

PROPAGANDA (under the readmore):

Samfro:

There honestly isn’t an coherent way I can put their relationship, so I will be placing quotes said between the two characters that illustrates their love for one another: “I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise. "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee." And I don't mean to." “Don't go where I can't follow." “Frodo wouldn't have got far without Sam" <- Frodo pretending he is telling their story and the fucking tender look he gives Sam and how he calls Sam heroic and how Sam wants to do an uno reverse and *unholy screeching* ugh 🥺

Merthur:

“Two Sides Of The Same Coin” “The Half Cannot Truly Hate That Which Makes It Whole” “Hold Me” Okay. Listen. The prince (and later, king) of Camelot starts talking to his date about how he wishes they could run away together and live on a farm. and bring his best friend Merlin of course, because duh. They are canonical soulmates even when Arthur marries a servant and makes her queen. They drink poison for each other within the first three episodes of season one, and then repeatedly risk their lives for one another. Merlin chooses to constantly betray the safety of himself and other magic users so that he can protect/save Arthur, and Arthur consistently breaks the code of what royalty should do so that he can protect/save Merlin. All the while being completely unaware that Merlin has been protecting him whatsoever!! Also, in a deleted scene, Arthur gives Merlin his mother’s sigil, which effectively associates you with the Pendragon family forever. Merlin is still waiting for Arthur, millennia after he dies, waiting for him to return. Alexander Vlahos said in an interview that “becomes a love story between two men. In a platonic sense, it becomes a brilliant love story between Arthur and Merlin.”

[heaven4lostgirls]

“i made a promise mr frodo-a promise! ‘don’t you leave him samwise gamgee’ and i don’t mean to”

sam, my heart! 🩷

[funkyllama]

Happy Halloween from the Rodchesters!

I made a promise, Mr. Frodo; a promise. Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee. And I don't mean to. ...I don't mean to.

[ivygrowingsideways]

“I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise. Don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamgee. And I don’t mean to. I don’t mean to.”

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Rereading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

*Has an aggressive flashback to studying Romeo and Juliet as an undergraduate student and fiercely debating whether Friar Laurence's inability to send a goddamn letter made him culpable in the events subsequent to his promise to deliver a letter*

*Takes a deep breath*

*Counts to ten*

*SHAKES BUTTERBUR TO WITHIN AN INCH OF HIS GODDAMN LIFE BECAUSE WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN IT'S BEEN THREE MONTHS AND YOU DIDN'T GET THE DAMN LETTER DELIVERED????*

So...yeah. Let's just cut to the chase and talk chapter 10, "Strider."

Ok, so after Frodo's disastrous table dance in the last chapter, it's fully time for Strider to explain himself, so everyone heads back to the Hobbits' room. Merry is nowhere to be found, and everyone is INSUFFICIENTLY CONCERNED about this, especially given that they've had Black Riders on their tails since before they left the Shire. But I guess before we worry about the single most competent hobbit in the bunch and Frodo's COUSIN, we have to let Strider speak his piece.

Now, at this point, nobody has heard from Gandalf in months. Nobody has talked to each other. The hobbits know next to freaking nothing because FRICKIN' GILDOR didn't tell them jack, and Tom Bombadil focused on tips for staying alive in the Barrow-Downs. Strider kinda knows the general shape of things but doesn't know our hobbity bois from a short, beardless dwarf. And our hobbity bois are, understandably, feeling kinda suspicious of EVERYONE at this point, as illustrated by this little exchange:

"Maybe Mr. Baggins has an honest reason for leaving his name behind; but if so, I should advise him and his friends to be more careful." "I don't see what interest my name has for anyone in Bree," said Frodo, angrily, "and I have still to learn why it interests you. Mr. Strider may have an honest reason for spying and eavesdropping; but if so, I should advise him to explain it."

and this little declaration from Sam, the only hobbit in the group with an adequate suspicion of people:

"With your leave, Mr. Frodo, I'd say no! This Strider here, he warns and he says take care; and I say yes to that, and let's begin with him. He comes out of the Wild, and I never heard no good of such folk. He knows something, that's plain, and more than I like; but it's no reason why we should let him go leading us out into some dark place far from help, as he puts it."

Literally, Sam was listening and he has come to a deeply reasonable conclusion, especially since protecting Frodo is his entire motivation. I wouldn't be super excited to follow a strange man into the wild either. And I gotta give Sam credit for a healthy level of critical suspicion too, because even after we get Gandalf's letter, he is still asking questions:

...Sam was not daunted, and he still eyed Strider dubiously. "How do we know you are the Strider that Gandalf speaks about?" he demanded. "You never mentioned Gandalf, till this letter came out. You might be a play-acting spy, for all I can see, trying to get us to go with you. You might have done in the real Strider and took his clothes. What have you to say to that?"

Sam, my dearest, darlingest hobbit, I respect your suspicious mind, but I have to ask you this question: What on Eru Iluvatar's little green Middle Earth would you have done if you'd been RIGHT? Sweetie, you are three feet tall and don't know how to use a sword. What was the plan if he looked directly into camera and said, "And I'd have got away with it too, it it weren't for you meddling hobbits"? If the man calling himself Strider wasn't actually Strider, you'd all have been dead like fifteen minutes ago.

And yes, Strider calls this out, but like...what IS it with big folks and getting briefly intimidating and exploding their presence to prove that they're NOT dangerous? Because Gandalf doing it to Bilbo after the party and Strider doing it now would not make me feel better about being a hobbit in a vulnerable moment. But I'm just a girl, what do I know?

At any rate, apparently between Frodo's instincts, Strider's wizard power moment, and Gandalf's letter, Strider passes muster with the hobbits. So the next thing to do is to get everyone on the same page, with everyone going, "So uhh...Gandalf, huh?" and then planning to set out for Weathertop in the morning. All pretty standard stuff for a session zero with a new party member.

At which point Merry windmill slams into the room screeching about seeing the Black Riders in Bree.

Seriously, y'all neglected Merry and honestly I wouldn't blame him for not telling any of you about the Black Riders because seriously, he has been gone for literal hours, missed the whole Strider reveal, and NOBODY WAS WORRIED??? Such disrespect for the hobbit who got your asses clear of the Shire, honestly. And now he's *recovering from the Black Breath* and nobody checks in on how he is. Nob literally found him unconscious on the side of the road and Merry explicitly says he had "an ugly dream" that I am frankly entirely willing to chalk up to minor mental trauma. He's even beating himself up for going to pieces, which is just ridiculous because THE BLACK BREATH. But does anyone ask, "Are you ok, Merry? Can we get you anything, Merry?" NO!!! I get that Sam and Frodo are the A-plot hobbits, but SOMEONE CHECK ON MERRY, FFS.

Especially since he has just brought KEY INTEL that is going to keep everyone alive overnight and allow them to get out of Bree tomorrow without getting absolutely Black Rider-ed. Thanks to Merry, Strider keeps the hobbits out of their room, and Nob (shoutout to Nob, he's been awesome and should get Employee of the Month) sets up fake hobbits in their beds just in case. Once again, Merry has taken action to save all their asses and he is GROSSLY underappreciated.

Which, frankly, is a stark contrast to FREAKING BARLIMAN BUTTERBUR. This man, who Strider explicitly says would *forget his own name if people didn't yell it at him all day every day* gets forgiven with basically no consequences for not passing on a crucial piece of mail that would have saved Frodo and co. significant grief on their trip out of the Shire and would have made coming to Bree significantly less dramatic and noticeable. Gandalf threatened to roast the man and both Frodo and Strider agree that he deserved to be roasted, but DOES ANYONE DO THE ACTUAL ROASTING? NO THEY DO NOT!!! This is unacceptable, and someone needs to address this. Usually I want to be sucked into a book to live in the world and go on adventures or go on a date with a book boyfriend, but if I were to be sucked into Fellowship, my #1 task on my to-do list would be to give some goddamn comeuppance to Barliman Butterbur.

Ok, I'm going to leave it there for now, and we'll check back in next time to see if everyone survives the night with a bunch of Black Riders running wild in Bree.

[mortemappetens]

I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise

Just a little sketch for a particularly funny scene in Sea Glass Gardens by polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup/Syn. So I changed the dialogue a little bit (a lot), sue me.

Got two more in the pipeline. Can't say when they'll come out. Probably the next few days to a week.

I'm not the best of artists, but I do hope you like it, Syn.