#Return of the Living Elves

[sapphoismymuse]

rewatched aragorn’s coronation scene and i just realized you can see elrond’s heart breaking as she goes to join aragorn

like, that is the face of a man who was promised eternity with his daughter, a reunion in the west no matter what happened, only to lose her forever to love

[confusedsiewmai]

Sometimes, I don't like looking at Frieren fandom things is because it feels so alienating as an aroace person sometimes.

I relate to Frieren in a lot of ways. The way she goes through life at her own speed, the way she has a certain way of doing things that is hard to change, the way she struggles to fully understand others but is still compassionate and tries, and last but not least, the way she doesn't feel romantic or sexual attraction the way most people do.

So when a fan posts something about how elves like Frieren don't really feel romantic or sexual attraction and it's wonderful that Himmel's unrequited love with her is still portrayed as something beautiful, healthy and valued, but the comments section is just filled with people being like: No!!!! That's not true!!! Frieren loves Himmel even though she doesn't realise it!!!!

Or even the more "generous" ones are like: No!!! She is just falling in love with him years later!!! The whole story is about how she regrets not pursuing it until it was too late!!!!

And like, every person has their own interpretation and ships. But it really is a bit saddening as an aroace person that sees Frieren also as an aroace who probably would never feel as much romantic love for Himmel EVER. People have almost this... need to correct people that Frieren loves Himmel romantically.

[spiderwarden]

Not me listening to this and always imagining how when Karlach ( @infernaliscor ) chooses death, the scenario in my head is that she shoved Minthara away from her so she wouldn't burn up with her. Then Minthara crying outright as she crawls back over to her and pushes her hands into her ashes and collapses onto her knees. Staring down at what's left of her love, her darling love, and just cries before she barely has enough lucidity to gather as much of her ashes as she can into a leather pouch. Where she then has two swords made from them, two swords that she carries on her back as she goes into Avernus herself, just as she promised Karlach, and enters the blood wars to make Zariel pay for ever laying eyes on her. With Karlach protecting her back just as she did in life ... swords she will plunge into the Arch devil herself, still killed by Karlach even in death.

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

ok thingol headcanon time. my hc is that he and his brothers are the grandchildren of enel and enelyë. and that sometime before the war of the powers enel and enelyë both vanished, presumed to have been taken by morgoth. thingol was close with his grandparents -- but he never saw them again after they disappeared, and even until the end of his own life he still had no idea exactly what had become of them. he could only hope for their sakes that they were dead already, but during some particularly bad days, the thought that they might somehow still be out there somewhere, suffering, tore at him

[dragon-swords-prophecies]

i have a new wip idea someone please talk me out of it

(or talk me into it either works)

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

return of the king messes me up every time i watch it. like. you can’t go home, home will never be the same because you have changed. you will never return from this journey. physically you may go back, but mentally a part of you is left behind. something is missing. you become changed by the grief and it never really leaves you. there was something i told my mom a while back. i told her i hadn’t felt truly happy or excited for anything in a long time. she told me that was part of being an adult. even if she didn’t mean it this way, i think i understand.

[scribeofmorpheus]

removing the “by omission” from his status quo of “god of lies” is what ultimately hurts his characterisation so much in datv--

emphasising the "betrayer" but neglecting the multifaceted politics of the "rebel" part of his persona is also to blame

which is why i play veilguard the way i read multi-pov books (i simply accept that everyone is an unreliable narrator--especially if the game really wants me to believe a certain thing; i.e: companions saying he didn't care who he sacrificed when he had to kill his blighted agent… like, hello? he just spared us the pain of witnessing such a cruel/inevitably kinder end IN THE VERY MEMORY!)

My Thoughts on Solas in *Dragon Age: The Veilguard* (DATV)

It’s been about a month since I played Dragon Age: The Veilguard and I finally feel ready to talk about Solas. Yes, *that* Solas—the one who’s sparked endless debates in the Dragon Age fandom for over a decade, inspiring some of the most fascinating character analyses I’ve ever read. Unfortunately, the Solas we get in DATV feels like a shadow of his former self. Instead of the nuanced and controversial figure we know, he’s been reduced to a one-dimensional scapegoat with inconsistent writing that just didn’t do him justice.

Solas has always been such a compelling character—complex, flawed, and full of contradictions. But in DATV, the trickster archetype, he represented, was so poorly handled that I sometimes wondered if the characters in the game and I were even getting the same information. Take the moments when we uncover Solas�� memories: the reactions from other characters came across as weirdly more venomous toward Solas than even Elgar’nan, who was a literal tyrant. It felt like (some of?) the writers were trying to strip away any sympathy for Solas, but if anything, it had the opposite effect, if we judge from the percentage of people who chose to redeem him. (Pro tip for game writers: players don’t like being told how to feel about a character!)

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not here to excuse Solas’ actions. He’s done some truly awful things. But reducing his complexity to make him easier to blame? That’s not it. What made Solas fascinating wasn’t just his lies, treachery or rebellion but his wisdom and the fact that he cared too much. Even when he convinced himself the people of modern Thedas weren’t “real,” he still supported acts of kindness and mourned unnecessary loss. That sentimentality made him sympathetic, even while he was pursuing some pretty despicable goals. It’s that balance—the caring, sentimental dreamer weighed down by his own ruthlessness —that made Solas the perfect trickster figure and harbinger of change.

That’s why some of the decisions in DATV just didn’t sit right with me. Solas has always been willing to sacrifice others for his ideals, but that includes himself—*especially* himself. Din’an Shiral, anyone? The reveal about Varric should have been this devastating, mind-blowing moment, but instead, it felt cheap. Solas manipulating Rook by hiding Varric’s death? Totally in character. But actively using blood magic to control their mind? That felt like a shortcut, and a boring one at that. Especially, after those heated debates he had with the Iron Bull in Inquisition about how important freedom of thought is for him.

This was such a missed opportunity to dive into heavier themes like the manifestation of regret and grief—both of which would’ve made Rook more tragic and relatable. What I wanted to see from Solas, was a tragic hero who’d fought for so long he ended up becoming the villain. Not unlike his mortal enemy Elgar’Nan. What I got instead was a caricature of the trickster archetype, stripped of all the depth we saw in Trespasser.

Another thing that bugged me was how DATV framed Solas’ rebellion. The in-game conversations by the Veilguard team seem to suggest that he started it out of spite toward Mythal and/or Elgar’nan, which just isn’t true. Solas rebelled because he believed—to be more precise convinced himself—that the Evanuris were waging war on the Titans in the name of freedom. And realising that this wasn’t the actual motive was his first attempt to “fix” his mistakes. In other words the part he played in the war, and at the same time protect his people from tyrany the worst of fates in his eyes. That’s such a crucial part of his story, and seeing it misinterpreted by the cast, felt like such a disservice to the complexity of the character.

That’s not to say everything about Solas in DATV was bad. The dialogue was exquisite and stood out as classic Solas, especially when it came to the contrast between his wisdom and cunning or the need to offer guidance vs the manipulation (props to Trick for really nailing those moments). The animations were incredible, too, and perfectly captured his aura. And, of course, Gareth David-Lloyd absolutely killed it as Solas. His performance brought so much life to the character, even when during the moments when the writing fell short.

Still, I can’t help but feel disappointed. Solas has always been my favorite DA character, and seeing him reduced like this was frustrating. He’s a character built on contradictions—sentimental but ruthless, idealistic but pragmatic, sympathetic yet maddening. DATV had the chance to explore all of that and take him to new depths, but instead, it just… didn’t. And as a fan who’s loved his journey for years, that’s hard to swallow. Needless to say I would still devour any novel or media about him, because I’m definitely left wanting more from his story.

[niofo]

shartan would be a pr disaster during landsmeet. not only he joined the wardens after killing a noble and he openly doesn't care about shems - he then told loghain and ser cauthrien to get their shits together, refused to rescue the queen, killed ser cauthrien, on landsmeet announced that he wouldn't lift a finger for denerim if not for the alienage, defeated loghain and a bunch of guards, told the queen to fuck off, executed loghain. anora is only alive bcos she got the memo that he's giving people only one single warning. there's a zero amount of fuck he's giving about shems' squabbles. looking between him and alistair ferelden nobles would happily accept alistair as a king just to please only deal with the nice grey warden from now on.

[victorie552]

Hey, you know how people move somewhere far away and change their names when they want start fresh, at least in stories?

...Can elves do that? In Middle-Earth OR in Aman?

[monstersflashlight]

Big and muscular orcs who's hands had only known to bring death to his enemies for years, he had never only focused on anything except leading his tribe to victory and protecting it as he is the chieftain.

Until he met his Elven wife, small and petite who's carefree, gentle and very soft. He never have been intimate with them ever since marriage, afraid he's going to break them into two like a twig.

Not until he saw how his wife would tend to the children on his tribe, playing with them and telling them stories, how they would tend to them like a mother, full of love and gentleness and He began to imagine what It'd be like to have children of their own

He found himself pounding into them every night, his huge cock barely fittin in, his tip kissing the entrance of their cervix, pumping their womb full of his seed, hoping that one It'd root.

i love orcs mwuehehheheh

Breeding surprise

Orc x fem elf!reader || breeding, knotting, size kink, cum inflation || tw: mentions of pregnancy

When you married the orc warrior, you weren’t expecting the reality of it. In your first year of marriage, you barely saw him because of the ongoing war, he was far away fighting for wars that weren’t his, not yours… But when the war stopped? Good lord you were expecting that even less.

He arrived home on a random Wednesday and you weren’t even there. You were at the market when the bells rang announcing the warriors were home. You ran back to your hose in the edge of town, and there he was, waiting at the door with the wildest look you’ve ever seen.

Contrary to what everyone thought, you two married because you liked each other, not because of convenience or love or anything like that. He was good looking, and you were good looking, and you both were tired of looking for people, so it just seemed normal to marry a friend and just be happy with it.

That’s why when you arrived home that day and found him with that wild look in his face you weren’t suspecting anything. You approached him with a smile in your face and your pointy ears twitching, you were so happy your best friend was back you were about to vibrate out of your skin. You were about to hug his middle when he grabbed your waist and hoisted you up until you were face to face with him.

And then he kissed you. He kissed you so deeply and so thoroughly that your brain was fuzzy by the time he released you. You couldn’t even ask what was all that about before he had you naked over your living room table and was eating your pussy out until you were screaming his name. He had such a smug expression in his face after that... you wanted to hit him. But instead you pushed him until he was sitting down on the armchair and proceeded to ride him until he was spilling everything inside of you.

That was the first of many. It was like something broke between you two and your friendship was no longer that. Your marriage turned a lot more real than any of you suspected. At first it was just lust and shared passion, but it soon turned into so much more. He looked at the children at the market with longing in his eyes, and when you returned home he fucked you in earnest. He knew perfectly that orcs and elves could only procreate if you had that special potion, otherwise it was just a fun little thing you played where he filled you to the brim and then watched it drip down, just to fuck it back into you again.

Until one day, you decided it was time. He left to go hunting and you prepared the potion, drinking it down and leaving a tiny bit on the glass so he would know.

You got naked and started prepping yourself. He usually enjoyed eating you out, but this time around, with the promise of possible breeding, you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back. And as much as you enjoyed his huge orc dick, you also needed some prep for your tiny elf pussy if you didn’t want to be destroyed.

You were three fingers in when you heard his footsteps entering the house. “Honey, I’m home!” You giggled at his antics and said nothing. You could feel the moment he realized what the glass was, because his steps stopped completely and you could hear him take a deep breath. You knew what he could smell… You being fertile, ready to be breed. “I hope this is not a joke or I swear to…” He appeared at the door of the room and gaped at your naked form, already squirming with pleasure right in front of him. “Are you sure?” He asked, looking at your fingers more than at you.

“Yes. Fill me up,” that’s all it took for him to rip his clothes away and jump over your body in the bed. You giggled as your body shook up and down with the force.

His hands pushed your fingers away, replacing them with his own as he started talking frantically. "Gonna fill you so deep you are going to be leaking for hours after, just so I can slide right in and fill you again, would you like that? Would you like to be filled over and over like you are my own personal fuck toy?" You weren’t expecting that level of dirty talk and you were speechless, your pussy twitching around his fingers was the only answer you could provide. “Of course you do, of course you want to be filled to the brim and used until I’m completely spent.” He kept finger fucking you until you were breathless, begging him to fuck you over and over. He didn’t, not yet. He pushed your legs further apart, licking around his fingers buried in you and sucking on your clit until you came all around him.

“Come on, come on, come on…. Please, husband.” That always worked, reminding him that you were his, not only in body, but in every aspect that mattered… That did it for him. And for you.

He covered your tiny body with his and got into position, you were more than ready, stretched and prepared for him. He didn’t care about your need, though. He only cared about fucking you so thoroughly you couldn’t walk the next day. He only cared about breeding you until you were full of him. So he fucked you slowly, so, so slowly that you were crying out in desperation and he was laughing at how needy you were. But he secretly loved it. Loved how much you needed his cock.

He made you come twice before he started fucking you in earnest. Fast and hard, rapidly approaching his own orgasm. And then, even though you knew he could pop a knot, he never did before. But what you were feeling was definitely his knot, pressing against your entrance, demanding entry. And he did. He entered you completely as your eyesight turned white with pleasure as the knot pushed right over your G-Spot. It was the most intense sensation ever.

And when he started to come inside of you, you felt like you were ascending into heaven. Like your body transcended into a new reality, and the only thing that existed were you and his knot deeply buried inside your pussy.

You came down from the high, and he was still coming. And coming. And coming so much you could feel it dripping down around his knot, filling your womb until your lower abdomen was bloated and your cervix felt overused. It was marvelous.

He rolled his hips to give you some pleasure, your body shaking with aftershocks as he kept coming inside your pussy. When the knot came down, your eyes were already half closed. You didn’t know if you were pregnant, but you definitively knew you were doing that again as soon as you woke up from a tiny nap.

[thesummerestsolstice]

The voyage west at the end of Return of the King is extremely funny to me, because just look at who's on board. You've got:

Frodo Baggins, hero of the Shire, in need of healing but also excited to see Valinor and meet the legendary elves who live there, a gentle soul

Elrond Halfelven, as kind as a summer, looking forward to peace west of the sea, probably wants to go chill out in a cottage with his wife for the next thousand years

Which seems fine. And then we get to everyone else.

Gandalf, cheeky bastard who's gotten so used to being a weird old wizard in Middle-Earth that's he's forgotten what Maia are supposed to act like, will immediately cause problems

Bilbo Baggins, noted storyteller, definitely planning to break into Aule's halls to see his dwarf friends, will ask all the elves weird questions and then sing about their lives and deaths in front of them, will immediately cause problems

Galadriel, who came to Aman half for Celebrian and Elrond's sake and half to taunt all her cousins about being the only one of them to survive the First Age, enjoys causing problems, will immediately cause many problems

(Also, to be clear, these are not three isolated problem-causers, they absolutely spent the entire trip to Valinor actively planning to give Amanyar society and the Valar an aneurysm.)

I just love the idea of Elrond, now reunited with Celebrian, and Frodo happily having tea with Elwing and Earendil, with nothing to interrupt them but the gentle sounds of the tides.

Meanwhile Galariel, Bilbo, and Gandalf are collectively bullying Mandos into releasing Maglor Feanorian from the halls because:

Bilbo wants to read him his translation of the Noldolante, which is written as a cheery Hobbit drinking song

Elrond always complained about how Gandalf and Maglor were both insufferably vague about advice and Gandalf needs to make sure he's more infuriating than Maglor as a matter of his wizardly pride

He still owes Galadriel money

[rpgchoices]

Davrin's past and his Dalish clan and his vallaslin (all mentions I could find)

So much in the game is hidden behind banters between companions (which is ahhhh a bit annoying) so I compiled all the banter and information I found about Davrin's past.

Not really plot spoilers, just Davrin spoilers.

At the end I will summarize everything in a bullepoints list.

Bellara and Davrin banter:

Text here (link)

There are also a few other banters I did not record where it is implied Davrin does not care about the gods or some other late game revelations. The only thing he cares about (and mentions again later in game, in a main scene) is how people see Dalish and elves, and how to minimize the risk of humans hating elves even more.

Taash and Davrin's banter (text in description for each image)

Davrin's quests information:

Here are other mentions from Davrin first quest: Rook: How did it go? Davrin: Poorly. They felt like I rejected them. Rook: Did you? Davrin: Yeah, I suppose. Clan life wasn't for me. I had to get away. Rook: So then what happened? You're out in the world, looking for adventure… Davrin: Got my ass kicked. Went broke. Davrin: I couldn't go crawling back to my clan a failure. Doubt they'd take me back. It forced me to figure out what I was good at. Always had a knack for hunting.

Other info we get from the Halla quest is that: Davrin spent summers tending Halla as a kid alongside Eldrin, who is not his uncle, but like an uncle. So this is a case of Davrin wanting to spend time with Hallas, or being made to by his clan. Eldrin's vallaslin is Ghilan'nain:

So it could be that Davrin's new vallaslin might be Ghilan'nain too. But I think it is Andruil's or a mix of the two.

Davrin could have gotten the vallaslin to honor Eldrin (we know he is the only member of his clan - if he is part of his clan - Davrin has no trouble contacting, even if they seem to have not met each other's in a while). But we also know Davrin was a hunter.

Eldrin was also the one who taught Davrin what to hunt basically. In his first quest Davrin says "When I was a kid, I'd hunt just about anything. Rabbits, deer, fox. Eldrin gave that purpose. Taught me the Way of Three Trees. The Way of the Arrow, Way of the Bow, Way of the Wood."

This is from Andruil and if we look at all three vallaslin:

Emmrich and Davrin:

(they have some discussions about Davrin not believing in the Fade or liking it, this is the one which mentions the Dalish clan)

There are also a few other banters at the Lighthouse that mention the Fade and the sky. Mainly they are about Davrin being uncomfortable with the open space and stuff about him disbelieving the Fade: "Good. Because it's not the sky. Emmrich says it's the Fade. Me, I don't know what to think."

Final banter with Davrin:

So basically, the summary of what we know for certain is:

Davrin left his clan voluntarily because he felt restless, he did not care about tradition and lessons, and he wanted to see the world

He felt like he did not fit in his clan since he was a kid

He was also hunting everything he could find until Eldrin taught him the way of the Three Trees and to protect life by hunting darkness (monsters)

Eldrin is like an uncle for him and lives isolated (unsure if he is part of Davrin's clan) and Davrin used to spend summers helping him with the hallas

Davrin feels like he pissed off his clan, he rejected them and both Davrin and Bellara agree it would be hard for him to go back

In another dialogue, he says he actually did not think the clan would take him back at all even if he crawled back asking for help ("Like a failure" he says)

He does not regret joining the Grey Wardens and looking for adventures, but he seems to regret that came at the cost of leaving the clan and not being able to return or keep in contact with them

Also, he says the outside world was different from what he imagined

PART 2 HERE

[sillylotrpolls]

(Credit and a truly absurd amount of context below the poll in case you don't know who the Old Took is.)

Today's poll looks at a question posed by @sindar-princeling:

Bilbo barely passed Old Took's record lifespan after having a supernaturally-life-extending ring for 60 years. which begs a question. what the hell did Old Took do

In the notes on that post, the most popular theory by far was espoused by @mitsuhachiinthehive, who posited that Gandalf hooked up with a hobbit at some point and [some of] the Tooks are his descendants. This idea was further spread thanks to @the-haiku-bot.

Additional theories which I cribbed for poll options:

The diamond cufflinks were magical in more ways than one @elodieunderglass

He drank an ent-draught courtesy of the missing ent wives @betterofflost

He got hold of a random magic elven ring @morgulscribe

If you would like some a lot of context from canon so you can decide for yourself, more information about the Old Took is beneath the cut.

First off, it's established multiple times in the books what a big deal it was for Bilbo to beat Old Took's record. From The Return of the King:

He opened his eyes and looked up as they came in. 'Hullo, hullo!' he said. 'So you've come back? And tomorrow's my birthday, too. How clever of you! Do you know, I shall be one hundred and twenty-nine? And in one year more, if I am spared, I shall equal the Old Took. I should like to beat him; but we shall see.' [...] Little Elanor was nearly six months old, and 1421 had passed to its autumn, when Frodo called Sam into the study. 'It will be Bilbo's Birthday on Thursday, Sam,' he said. 'And he will pass the Old Took. He will be a hundred and thirty-one!' 'So he will!' said Sam. 'He's a marvel!'

Here's a biography on the old hobbit from Tolkien Gateway:

After the death of his father in 1248, Gerontius became the twenty-sixth Thain of the Shire. He was a friend of Gandalf, who gave him a pair of magic diamond studs and performed firework tricks during Gerontius' midsummer-eve parties. Gerontius Took reached the impressive age of 130, which made him the oldest Hobbit until his grandson Bilbo Baggins celebrated his 131st Birthday. He also held the record of most offspring, until Samwise Gamgee bested him with Tom's birth in S.R. 1442.

And from Tolkien Gateway's page on the Took Family:

Tooks were mainly of Fallohide Hobbit stock, and had quite a reputation for unusual behavior (among other things being more adventurous than the other Hobbits), a quality not valued in the Shire. For this they would be seen as less respectable, but those traits were "tolerated" thanks to their large numbers and wealth. An absurd legend among other families, was that one of the Took ancestors married a fairy. The Wizard Gandalf was a known, if disreputable, associate.

Here we have Gandalf introducing himself to Bilbo in The Hobbit. Note that Belladonna Took is one of the Old Took's 12 (!!) children.

“Yes, yes, my dear sir—and I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don’t remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took’s son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!” “Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows’ sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer’s Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!” You will notice already that Mr. Baggins was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very fond of flowers. “Dear me!” he went on. “Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures? Anything from climbing trees to visiting elves—or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter—I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business.” “Where else should I be?” said the wizard. “All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, and that is not without hope. Indeed for your old grandfather Took’s sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for.”

And for context, Sam was 102 when he sailed West, Merry was at least 103 and almost certainly older when he died, and Pippin at least 95. The uncertainty is because Tolkien describes their last years thus in the Appendices:

1484 In the spring of the year a message came from Rohan to Buckland that King Éomer wished to see Master Holdwine once again. Meriadoc was then old (102) but still hale. He took counsel with his friend the Thain [Pippin], and soon after they handed over their goods and offices to their sons and rode away over the Sam Ford, and they were not seen again in the Shire. It was heard after that Master Meriadoc came to Edoras and was with King Éomer before he died in that autumn. Then he and Thain Peregrin went to Gondor and passed what short years were left to them in that realm, until they died and were laid in Rath Dínen among the great of Gondor. 1541 In this year on March 1st came at last the Passing of King Elessar. It is said that the beds of Meriadoc and Peregrin were set beside the bed of the great king. Then Legolas built a grey ship in Ithilien, and sailed down Anduin and so over Sea; and with him, it is said, went Gimli the Dwarf. And when that ship passed an end was come in the Middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring.

[balrogballs]

I have never had a normal thought since I realised Aragorn/Estel would have been around 10 years old — more like 7/8 considering his heritage — when Thorin's Company passes through Rivendell, so here are some brainrot headcanons (continued under the cut):

Estel is obsessed with Thorin. Just completely obsessed. Follows him around everywhere like a cat, begs him to play with him, offers to run errands for him. Literally every elf in Rivendell is completely stunned at the behaviour because Estel is, normally, a card-carrying ankle-biter.

The Dwarves, on the other hand, are shocked by the fact that by a few days into the visit, Thorin seems to like Estel too. Gloin would have sworn that he expected Thorin to throw the child off the banisters the minute he made him hold his pet python. Thorin didn't just hold said snake, but played with him, let him do little odd jobs, even letting him sit up with him at the dining halls. On two evenings, he even takes Estel out with a wooden sword, to show him how to "fight like a Dwarf lord". All the Dwarves are just as shook as the elves, minus Kili and Fili, who knew Thorin as Uncle Thorin and are completely unsurprised that he is so wonderful with little Estel.

Lindir and Elrond find a content python snoozing in Elrond's study. Lindir and Elrond are both utterly and irrationally terrified of snakes. After much screaming and climbing on sofas, every member of staff swears Estel had been in his mother's quarters all day. Nobody thinks to mention that they saw Bilbo and Thorin hanging about outside the study, because what relevance could that possibly have?

When the company left Rivendell, Estel was understandably quite unhappy because he'd miss them, also they were going to see a dragon, and he begged to go with them. Thorin does what most parents do before going on a trip, and promises to bring him a present from the dragon's lair when they returned.

Bilbo returns without Thorin, but with the promised present for Estel. He visits the boy in his quarters and they hold each other and share their grief. Bilbo then shows him the present. He explains how Thorin wanted to give him something more substantial than a golden cup scraped off the floor of a dragon's lair — he had told Bilbo, the night before the battle, to give the boy Thorin's own solid gold wristband.

On the same return trip, Elrond expressed his condolences over Thorin's death, and enquired if there were other casualties. When he finds out that Kili and Fili had also died in the battle, a strange, terrible expression twisted across his face and he said, almost reflexively, both? both together? good. that's good. The remaining Dwarves and Bilbo were all stunned, thinking it was Elvish apathy at best, and deliberate disrespect at worst. After all, they had no reason to know that Elrond, like his immortal brethren, found it somewhat difficult to gauge the ages of mortal beings — and had thought the two late brothers were twins.

Decades later on the night before the Fellowship were set to depart, the elderly Bilbo Baggins found it hard to sleep from worry, and wandered onto the balcony, and saw a lone man practicing sword moves in the courtyard. He realises both man and combat style seem faintly familiar, like the heavy striding and swinging and slashing are the steps to an old dance he once used to know, which now lives in a deep, forgotten place within him, under layers of unravelling memories. He can't quite put his finger on it. But there is a strange comfort in the sight, so soothing Bilbo's eyes start to close, falling asleep curled up right there on the balcony. He slips off into a wonderful old dream, lulled by the rhythm of fallen leaves crunching in the courtyard — where Aragorn "fights like a dwarf", solid gold wristband twinkling under the light of the stars.

[queers-gambit]

Tower Scrolls

prompt: during the Siege of Eregion, Elrond barters for his fiancé's life, and her life's work.

pairing: Elrond x intended!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 4.1k+

note: brain go wonky, don't take this too serious

warnings: we got angst! we got drama! we got spoilers! i think it's more hurt and comfort, but to each their own! there's cursing, character injury, canon-complicit character death, blood, depiction of abuse and torture, violence, is this a reader insert? i don't know anymore, but i think so. oneshot, filler, very abrupt ending.

Fire rained from the sky. Ash snowed on once white-sand buildings. Tension permeated the air. Blood irrigated soil.

Eregion was under attack.

Elves screamed in despair, Orcs snarled from outside the city walls, and no matter where you turned, you were trapped in this never ending barrage of violent misfortune. To the best of your ability, you manned the city walls and ordered the citizens of Eregion to find shelter, tunnel out of the city, or pick up arms and fight - fight for their homes, their families, their lives.

It was nearly a natural succession of power after dedicating majority of your life to Eregion and Lord Celebrimbor; a common presence, friendly face, such an outstanding ally that few hesitated to take your command. Yet you were met with resistance, some Elves rejecting your orders in favor of this "Annatar, Lord of Gifts," apparently sent from the Valar themselves to aid Celebrimbor in his creative work. They thought he was Lord of Eregion now, and since you were loyal to the previous Lord - who Annatar claimed had lost his ever sharp mind - you were looked upon with the same frown.

So, you did the only thing you thought you could do.

You protected your Lord, almost to the extent of your life. Too many had already fallen, you refused to follow; insisting on remaining with Lord Celebrimbor for the duration of his efforts so long as Annatar was in Eregion. The immortal being wasn't keen on the idea, but Celebrimbor was much soothed around you - so, he agreed, on the condition that your Lord finish his work on the Nine Rings.

After escaping before, Annatar thought the best suited idea would be to chain Lord Celebrimbor to his work bench; knowing you did not have the means to break him free and feeling it was a safe move. However, as you witnessed, the will of the Lord of Eregion was by far stronger than that of The Deceiver.

"I cannot!" You begged your Master. "No, you will not ask this of me! The audacity you possess - "

"You must!" Celebrimbor insisted, taking your cheeks in hand to smush your lips in a pucker. "Listen to me - listen! You have always known right from wrong, but now is not a time for rationality, it's a time for action. He mustn't get the Rings, I need you to run with them. Run away - far, far away from here, use the tunnels - "

"I will not abandon you," you snarled, "nor will I abandon this city, not while she still stands!"

"This is bigger than us, bigger than Eregion," Celebrimbor tried to convey his severity, forcing the Rings in your hand - but you were stubborn. For all the traits he loved, he despised your pigheadedness the most - despite admiring it once upon a time. So, he managed to convince you to cut just his thumb off after originally asking you to take the whole hand so the cuff could slide off, but he downgraded to just his digit for the same desired effect.

"Go," you begged him, tears in your eyes as you wrapped his hand with a clean(ish) cloth to staunch the bleeding. "Go, please, before He returns. Do not look back, my Lord."

"Come with me - "

"I'll hold Him off to give you more time. Now, go. Go!"

It wasn't easy, but Celebrimbor left you behind. No sooner had you confirmed his escape did Annatar return; surveying the workshop and you with sinister eyes.

"Where is he?"

"With luck? Far from here. With hope? Even past that," you answered, stood in the middle of the room - looking as if nothing could phase you. All a lie, of course, but Sauron didn't need to know you were close to pissing your pants out of sheer intimidation. "So... You're Him? I have to admit," you gestured at him, "it's a bit of a let down."

"I have many names - "

"Oh, spare me the personal lore all of Middle-earth knows," you snipped, offering a stale look. "You need a new story."

However, Sauron smirked and circled you, taunting, "I know you know where he went. I know you know where the Rings are, too."

"Then have a look in my mind, see for yourself," you smirked back, "go ahead and see that I purposefully did not ask and my Lord did not tell. Go on, if you do not believe me, have a look and know you are wrong - " You were cut off by your own gasp when Sauron's eyes rolled before he brandished a sword to pierce through your foot and into the floor.

"Where. Is. He?" Sauron seethed in your face; hot breath fanning the fly away hairs.

"Away from you," you managed to grit, the sword in too deep to yank free by yourself. "You'll never find them," you laughed without humor when Sauron's anger got the best of him; storming through the workshop, tearing it apart, searching in vain for Nine Rings that were not there. In his anger, you obtained a series of fresh blemishes as he threw anything he could to the sound of your amusement.

Yet any glimmer of hope in your chest was doused, all traces of faith and humor vanishing when guards lead Celebrimbor back into the workshop; discovering the destroyed forge and you, pinned by a bloody foot in the midst. You couldn't move from your place as the guards surrounded Sauron with the intention to apprehend him, yet you saw the threat before anyone else. You begged the guards, your kin, your brethren, to back away, to take your Lord and flee! You begged them to run. You begged them to listen, to hear you!

But it was too late.

Sauron turned your people on one another and had them slaughter each other before disposing of the final guard himself. You screamed at Celebrimbor to run, nearly tearing the blade through bone as you attempted to reach for the man who had taught you your entire life. The man who gave you a chance. The man who built you a home. The man who introduced you to your intended. The man you loved like a father.

But Sauron's grasp extended to all.

Celebrimbor was beaten senseless, the Dark Lord trying to pry information about the Nine from him by any means. Yet your Lord did not budge... And that's when Sauron turned to you. "Please, no! Don't! She doesn't know anything! I swear, please, spare her!" Celebrimbor pleaded when Sauron ripped the sword from your foot before knocking you to your knees; bowstring pulled back, arrow armed and aimed at your calf. "She doesn't know amything!" Celebrimbor screamed as your first tear fell.

"But you do," Sauron narrated, loosing the arrow into your flesh. You tried to subdue your screams, but the immortal took to alternating between shooting you and Celebrimbor with arrows; though his struck lethally, yours struck painfully. To Sauron, you were a plaything; a token to negotiate with, attempting to withdraw information by offering you harm, thinking it was enough to break Celebrimbor.

He was mistaken.

You panted as blood dribbled from the corner of your mouth, wincing as Sauron's boot came down on your knee; smearing his heel into an open wound with you flat on your back. "She... She doesn't know," Celebrimbor tried again. "She is... She's the Lady of Eregion now, and I would not curse her with such a burden as you have me!"

"Oh, a promotion?" Sauron mused, glancing at you - but you saw his underlying desperation.

"Eregion is no more," you whispered, head lulling on the floor to meet Celebrimbor's eyes and smile sadly. Blood lined your teeth. "It would've been the honor of my life should I have been able to defend your city, my Lord."

"Our city."

"How touching," Sauron's eyes rolled.

"She doesn't know," Celebrimbor repeated in anger.

"I know," Sauron nodded, "I looked in her mind. Still, the bond between you is greater - perhaps, you'd be more inclined to share with her?"

"He'd never," you chuckled in delirium, "he'd never sacrifice this world for the likes of you." Another arrow thumped into your shoulder, making you groan as Sauron angrily tossed the bow aside. Fearing your life was soon to be extinguished, you whispered, "I-I'm so sorry, my Lord. I failed you."

"No, do not say such a thing," Celebrimbor insisted, Sauron stalking over you before squatting in front of the Elven smith, "for it is I who failed you..."

Sauron sighed, sounding condescending yet soft as he reached over to stroke Celebrimbor's cheek, "Look what you have done to yourself."

You didn't care for his poisoned words, knowing your time was limited - just like Celebrimbor's. Yet the Dark Lord tried one last tactic: mercy. He promised to end your joint suffering should the location of the Nine be revealed. Your Lord was defiant still. So, Sauron tried gaslighting, and when that didn't work, he begged, "Please."

Still, it did not work and Celebrimbor affirmed his time was ending... So, naturally, after he plucked up a spear, Sauron threatened, "There are ways of keeping you both alive." In Sindarin, he added, "Friend." To the look of horror on Celebrimbor's bloody face, Sauron offered, "Must I show you my mastery of that craft as well?"

"'Craft'?" Your Lord chuckled ruefully. Then he spat, "Your only craft is treachery. So pure, it shall betray the very hand that forges it."

Sauron stepped over your limp, bleeding form too casually, quietly seething, "Your words are empty."

"No," Celebrimbor insisted, sitting himself up slightly. "No, hear me. Hear me!" Your dimming eyes widened as your Lord found his feet, back against the stone pillar he had once slumped against as support. "Shadow of Morgoth! Hear the dying words of Celebrimbor! With only Y/N, Lady of Eregion as witness!" You didn't move, you couldn't... You were defeated, you knew there was no way Sauron would let you leave this tower alive. So, you listened and bore witness for as long as you were capable of doing so. "The Rings of Power shall destroy you. And in the end, I foresee one alone shall prove your," he shouted, "utter ruin!"

"NO!" You screamed when Sauron turned, shouting in anger as he strode over you and stabbed Celebrimbor with his spear. You could only watch in fearful disgust as the Dark Lord, still in fair form, hoisted the Lord of Eregion up the stone pillar as if a flag on a pole.

Celebrimbor was in obvious pain, mouth agape, blood dribbling from his slathered lips. Sauron's words were still heard despite the low, quiet register, "You're wrong. I am their Creator." He growled, "I am their Master!"

"No," Celebrimbor's head shook as if pitying the immortal. "You are their... Prisoner. Sauron, Lord..." He trailed as his life's light was snuffed, "of the Rings."

You let your grief manifest in tears, watching as Celebrimbor's eyes found yours - conveying his goodbye as he mouthed one last apology... Then deflating as his soul, as promised, vacated this form to return to the shores. You didn't voice your note of Sauron's single tear, just staring at your Lord in disbelief - until the Dark Lord planted the end of his spear to the ground, staking Celebrimbor above all.

"N-No, no, wait!" You begged, trying to turn over onto your stomach to pull yourself across the ground. "No, please, please, take him down - get him down from there! Please, do not - do not leave him up there!" You cried out as arrow shafts were irritated back to life, reaching blindly - helplessly - upward as if you could reach the Lord of Eregion from his hoist.

Sauron watched you for a moment, the Orcs heard marching up the tower. With a swift swing of his leg, Sauron kicked your jaw - effectively knocking you out and overturning your body to your back; splayed out as if on display... Similar, but not akin, to Celebrimbor - whose pooling blood soaked into your gown.

Through your unconsciousness, Sauron eventually ordered Eregion be razed to the ground, every Elf slaughtered, and the Elven leaders be brought before him - unharmed. He gave specific instruction for every scroll in Celebrimbor's workshop to be torched; his way of punishing you for your insolence over supporting and protecting Celebrimbor.

When you awoke, the tower was quiet. You stiffly lifted your hand to your jaw; rubbing it tenderly, letting your sight refocus and being acutely aware of every feeling in your body.

"Fuuuuuuuck," you whimpered, trying to sit up but being unable due to protruding arrows. You went limp again, feeling a single twinge of anger you had to wake up because your eyes caught sight of and stared at Celebrimbor.

You failed...

You gasped shrilly when hands seized your upper arms and heaved; lugging you over the shoulders of two Orcs as a third swiped at the arrows to break them in the most painful way possible. Considering their brutish nature, you would've thought they'd have lopped your head off and moved along - but instead, they began carrying you towards the door.

"Wha-What's happening?" You asked through a slur, feet dragging under you, spying one of the Orcs gathering scrolls and tomes you spent your life writing alongside Celebrimbor in their dirty arms. "Wait - wait - what're you doing? What're you doing!?"

"Quiet!" An Orc snarled, dropping the hilt of his dagger to the soft part of the base of your head where it connected to your neck. You were silent out of sheer pain.

Down the tower you were drug, brought into the devastated courtyard where Orcs snarled at you from all sides; the two that carried you dropping you on your shattered knees. You were held at knifepoint as Orcs streamed from the tower and dropped your scrolls and tomes in several different piles a short distance away. Head injury caused your sight to blur in and out, but you knew what they were doing... What they intended.

"Please, please, don't do this," you whimpered, hearing several Orcs laugh. "No... No, no, no, no, please! Don't - " You had no more fight as collectively, your records were so extensive that several piles were made, few set ablaze.

All around you, Elves were slaughtered mercilessly, bodies left behind where they fell; the sounds of the city dying with them as the Orcs ran out of the innocent lives to claim. You could only watch. Before you, the Orcs tossed banded lassos around the decorated statue of Faenor, evident their desecration knew no bounds.

Yet hope sparked... The blade at your neck tightening when you perked up upon seeing several Orcs leading few saved Elves into the courtyard - your fiancé one of them.

"Elrond!" You cried, the Orc snarling a hiss as the hand in your hair yanked back. You struggled to the point of blood draw when Elrond's sight casted on you - trying to escape his captors, but being held back.

"Y/N!" He called back, the High King Gil-galad at his side and finding you amongst the rubble, too. The King muttered something you couldn't hear, but to Elrond, he understood the Sindarin word: wait.

"Hey!" You snapped, blade drawing a line of blood from your neck; pressure mounting as he pressed closer. You growled in annoyance.

Faenor toppled to the ground, shattering the heart of any Elf left to witness - Orcs mounting him, ravaging for hidden and seen treasures. With Gil-galad, Elrond, and other survivors, the Orcs moved inward as if to ensure the Elves had a front row viewing to the incineration of their culture.

"Y/N," Gil-galad called to attention, earning several snarls and hisses, "where is Lord Celebrimbor?"

"Dead," you whimpered, Orc growling at you in reprimand.

Elrond's eyes swept over the scene and swiftly understood the impending doom. The largest of the scroll piles was before the Elves now, an Orc pacing around it with his torch alight, tears down your cheeks as you couldn't look away as if in a trance you did not realize.

"No, Uruk! No!" Elrond begged when the Orc went to drop the flame; you struggling against your captor, both hands around his meaty wrist.

"No!" Gil-galad's beg echoed around you.

"That is the full record of Celebrimbor's works," Elrond tried to make the Orcs understand potential ramifications. "The wisdom of all who ever dwelt in this place, all accounted by the Lady Y/N, whose work cannot be found outside Eregion! Its value is beyond jewels or even blood! Take our lives," Elrond gestured to himself and the King, you struggling again on horridly abused knees, "but leave it be, I beg you."

Perhaps you were far too used to people listening when your fiancé spoke because you eagerly sat forward best you could while thinking perhaps the Orcs would listen to Elrond. Imagine your acute and heavy despair when the Orc laughed manically and turned to shove the torch into the bundle of fragile parchment. "NO!" You sobbed uselessly, watching the last of your life's work go up in flame.

You fought against the Orc's grip as Gil-galad snarled, "Cowardly traitors!"

"You fucking bastards!" Your head reared back to (painfully - nobody wins with a headbutt) break the Orc's nose. He released you as other Orcs were wrestling Gil-galad to the ground, able to pick up a blade and take out three too-close enemies.

It was the first time Elrond heard such language fall from your lips, but all he could register was the Orc punching you in the jaw in an attempt to subdue you - blood spitting to the side, seemingly darkening a bruise already blooming. He's never felt such rage.

Elrond fought with his bare hands; elbowing the Orcs behind him, punching the ones before him, fighting to get closer to you. He got ahold of a torch, screaming in white-hot anger as he set the Orc that hit you ablaze; dropping the torch and taking you into his embrace.

"My love," he breathed in your ear, able to peck your cheek just as the snarling Orcs forcefully ripped you out of his arms. "No, no!" He tried to reach out for you, but both were wrangled in.

"Please, don't! NO! No, no, no!" You gasped when Elrond was taken in custody, yet it wasn't you who saved him.

Another Orc reminded, "No! Lord Sauron wanted their leaders unharmed."

"Well, what about her? She looks injured," A different Orc growled, jostling your shoulder and pointing his dagger at your throat. Elrond was forced to his knees as you were, facing one another.

"Lord Sauron did that, said to discipline her should she resist," the Orc answered in a hiss, others shoving more Elves into the courtyard - including Arondir from the battlefield. A blade was held to Elrond's throat as your head bowed in the heat of the bonfire; being ripped up by your hair and forced to turn to watch the flames. The Orcs noticed the pair of you seemingly cared more about the literature than your lives, so, they thought you should relish in this moment.

So Elrond was held in a similar position, but his sight was on you; watching you crumple into despair while more Orcs tossed the last of the scrolls into the flames. Your life, since a youthful student, had been spent intermittently in Eregion under the care of Lord Celebrimbor, whom you thought of as an adoptive father, learning heraldry. He let you work at his side, keeping accurate, detailed record of his philosophies, ideas, processes, and creations for the histories. Yet, now, they wafted into the air as ash - lost to this Age, never to be recovered or duplicated or seen again.

Once more, you dropped your head, earning a backhand to the temple. Gritting your teeth, you let the Orc force your head up but shut your eyes tightly, defiantly; hearing their breathing turn ragged. "Cut her eyelids open!" An Orc barked.

"That's not what Lord Sauron said," another seethed with refusal.

"She's resisting!"

An Orc scoffed and stabbed your thigh with a dagger, eyes flying open as you gasped in pain. "There! See!" It laughed, holding you in a chokehold as tears leaked down your cheeks. Elrond struggled and shuddered against his captors, hating the sight of you dismantling yourself emotionally, but to witness your abuse, he hated more.

Then, from a short distance, a horn bellowed.

"Dwarves!" King Gil-galad identified, the Elves rejuvenated by the surprise (and delayed) arrival of aid. In tandem, they began to resist; yourself included by ripping the dagger from your thigh and driving it into your captor's ribs; praying flesh came too when the blade was ripped free.

He grunted and shoved you forward onto your chest and hands, able to flop over to watch your approaching demise - only to discover Elrond surging up to the Orc and snapping its neck with his bare hands.

"Elrond!" You gasped when the Orc fell to the side... Dead.

"C'mere," the half-Elf you intended to marry panted, reaching down to yank you onto your bloody feet; catching you on his chest when your weight buckled. "I got you, I've got you, love, you're safe," he whispered, hoisting you into his embrace before turning for the stream of Dwarves. "Durin!" He greeted jovially.

But when the Dwarf turned, it wasn't the ginger prince Elrond knew like a brother. The dark haired Dwarf heaved a sigh, informing, "The Prince... Is in mourning," before rushing off into the fray.

"'Mourning'?" You repeated in a daze. "Over Disa?"

"His father, perhaps?" Elrond guessed, tightening his arms to lift you and turn away from an Orc rushing forward. He blocked the enemy's advance, trying to keep secure hold of you - leaving an opportunity for you to use the last of your strength to drive your dagger (still in hand) into the Orc's throat. "Good girl," Elrond praised as the creature fell, panting from exhaustion. "Can you still fight?"

"I can barely stand on my own, Elrond," you whimpered, gripping his neck and shoulders in a vice grip to remain upright.

He nodded, "Right." With a sniffle, he lifted you again and rushed for an alcove, depositing you in rubble before caressing your face. "How bad?" He asked softly.

"Enough."

"Let me see - "

"Elrond, there's no time," you snatched his hands when he attempted to reach for your skirt, "the city is under attack, it's falling to Sauron - you need to help them. Go, go fight."

"I won't leave you."

Your ears rang with the same words you told Celebrimbor.

"You have to, this is bigger than any of us," you repeated what you'd been told.

"Elrond!" Gil-galad was heard calling, Arondir appearing in the mouth of the alcove.

"Over here!"

When the High King arrived, he paused to take in the sight of the pair of you. "Good," he panted, "you're both alive. The Dwarves are aiding our escape, we must leave now... The city is fallen," he directed at you.

"You should all go," you sniffled.

With confusion, Elrond snapped, "Without you?"

"I've business to see to in the tower."

"The tower will fall," Arondir explained, slowly lowering to a squat to put himself on your level. "Whatever you think is left is lost, my Lady."

"Celebrimbor's in there. I was taken before I could get him down."

"'Down'?" Gil-galad repeated, "What does that mean?"

Tears filled your eyes, telling the trio what Sauron did to you and your Lord; the King insisting hope was lost and it was time to go. "I cannot walk," you whispered, shaking your head, "and my injuries surpass - "

"I will carry you," Elrond rushed, holding your cheek gently, "I will not leave you behind."

"No... She will walk," Gil-galad stepped forward, revealing his Ring of Power, Vilya. You were unsure what his intention, but Elrond moved behind you to let you lean back into his chest as the King chanted his prayers.

Yet you passed out before fully healed.

"My King - "

"She's alive," Gil-galad soothed Elrond, the hand hosting Vilya laid to your forehead, "just exhausted. She's been through much, far more than I care to fathom. Sauron took it easy on her, he used mortal weapons against her."

"He didn't intend to kill her?" Arondir questioned.

"He needed her alive - whatever the reason," Gil-galad frowned.

"Will she wake?" Elrond worried.

"I have faith she will, trust in the Valar," the King nodded. "Now, if you intend to fight another day, we must go. Now."

And so, the Lady of Eregion was smuggled out of the smoking city in the arms of the Elf she loved, leaving behind all she knew and created. By the Third Age, at least one scroll written by her hand could be found in every library of Middle-earth; and in the Great Library Elrond built for her, detailed accounts of Lord Celebrimbor's work as recalled and honored by his adopted daughter, future Lady of Imladris.

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[lillotte17]

You know, I made a different post about it before, but the way Solas talks about wanting to return the elves immortality in Veilguard really has me convinced now that Romanced!Solas is at least partially motivated to tear down the Veil BECAUSE he loves Lavellan, and if he leaves things as they are, even if he gives up everything to stay with her... She's going to die.

Her lifespan is such a tiny fraction of his, and I think if he had fallen in love with a human or a qunari (not sure how long OG dwarves bound to Titans lived) he could maybe come to terms with the fact that it was just natural and he had to accept it. But with Lavellan it is different because she's an elf. She is going to die because of something HE did. And if he gives up his duty, he's going to have to sit there and WATCH her die because of something he did.

And tbh that's such a tasty little complexity? He's got all these High and Righteous Big Picture reasons for fulfilling what he thinks is his duty to the elvhen people, but like...I wish that had come up somewhere. I wish that little scrap of selfish reasoning peeked through his armor at some point.

I mean...I wish we got the chance to talk through his reasoning IN GENERAL, for the choices he made, but that is a whole other kettle of fish.