#Tharkun

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

I think we don't really appreciate or validate how.... Heartbroken Gandalf was over Saruman's betrayal.

"He was supposed to be the best of us", yes, Saruman was supposed to embody all virtues of the Valar & lead them in the fight against Sauron.

Instead, Saruman betrayed them all for fear and greed for power.

(Gandalf being the Maia of Nienna the Weeper just hurts even more when you think about how he must be grieving)

And then, HE has to be the one to cast Saruman out of the order.

Double pain.

Poor grey baby 💗

[thekalpar]

Another show my spouse and I are watching is Rings of Power, which I'm just enjoying as "officially sanctioned fanfiction". (And maybe that's okay, but that's a separate post) ANYWAY so the Strangers (the guy who we can all tell is Gandalf even if they won't say it) is walking with Poppy and Nori his Harfoot friends and there's this really wonderful scene where they're talking about names and the Stranger says this really powerful thing.

Absolutely beautiful moment in tv, and a message that has definitely resonated with all of the trans folx that I know.

Except.

Except.

The Stranger is Gandalf. All of us Tolkein nerds who sat down and read the Silmarilion and are obsessing over the lore details they've incorporated into this show know this guy is Gandalf. And here's the thing about Gandalf.

GANDALF. MY DUDE. YOU HAVE LIKE TWELVE NAMES.

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

This is now canon & no one can convince me otherwise.

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

[thistlepig]

Tomatoes in Erebor

Bungo Baggins gifted Belladonna Took Bag End when they were married. A brand new smial carved out of the most gorgeous hill he could find, overlooking the green fields of the shire and with a view from the front window that could even see almost all the way to Bywater, across the river. It was as comfortable and cozy a home as one could ask for. But the important part of the gift wasn't the home itself.

It was the garden.

A little stone wall surrounding the space and utterly filled with all manner of herbs and plants. Lovely chrysanthemums lined the edges, rosebushes flanked the gateway, peas and beans climbing the trellis and arches for easy picking. Squash and gourds spreading over the ground with beautiful tomatoes growing in neat little rows. The tomatoes donated by the Baggins family, of course, and the pumpkins from the Old Took himself. A few fruit trees lining the property. Everything laid out just so, and with room to grow. A pleasant place indeed to kneel among the plants and tend to the soil.

Hobbits, you see, showed their love through food, from beginning to the end. And what could be more romantic than gifting the promise of many meals worked for together and produced by their own land? Than the promise of countless hours working side by side to produce fruit and food together?

When Thorin proposed to Bilbo, there was no garden. Oh the event was sweet enough. And Bilbo gladly accepted and would not have changed a thing about it, but sometimes, and only sometimes mind you, he did miss digging his toes in the soil, and tending his prize winning tomatoes, passed down from his father.

The mountain held some similarities to a smial, of course. Dwarrow also preferred to live under the embrace of the earth, and there were plenty of cozy places in the mountain. But there was no window overlooking the scenery, and there certainly was not a garden.

***

"How are the wedding preparations coming along?" Thorin asked Balin as they walked through the corridor.

"Very well," Balin hummed. "The invitations to the other dwarven kingdoms have been delivered, as well as the ones to Dale and the Greenwood." Thorin grimaced at that last one, but Bilbo had put his foot down and insisted that if they didn't invite their neighbors that would completely ruin the work he'd been putting into the new treaty.

"And the local preparations?" Thorin urged.

"Ah yes, well the cake and meal plans are going along swimmingly. I believe Bombour is very excitedly coming up with plans. The decorations are going well, Dori and the weavers guild have been working on a new tapestry for the day of among others. I believe I placed a report on your desk this morning about them." Balin glanced sideways at Thorin who turned his head away, ignoring the gentle reminder that a King should be paying attention to his paperwork.

"And the specific request from Bilbo?" He asked.

Balin frowned. "Ah, yes. The flowers." Balin rubbed a hand across his eyes. "That is a bit more complicated."

Thorin nodded with a frown of his own. "I see, so we haven't been able to find a source?"

"Well...." Balin hummed. "The greenwood is only just beginning to recover, and is not producing florals at the moment. We have reached out to Beorn as well, but the correspondence is slow. He is delighted to come to the wedding, but believes that any flowers he may bring would not survive the trip."

"And what of the wizard?"

Balin shook his head. "No one has heard from Tharkun as of yet," he grunted.

Thorin sighed. "Of course not. He will likely not show his face until the morning of and then say that had been his plan all along."

Balin shrugged but nodded. "Aye, and if that wizard does show up, I'll have a word or two for him about proper timing." He sighed. "Either way, we do seem to be stuck on the flowers. Does Bilbo really need them for the wedding? Can we not have some crafted from gemstones or precious metals in their place? They will last longer?"

"Bilbo has requested grown flowers specifically," Thorin grumbled. "And if I can give him nothing else I will give him those." Bilbo had asked for so little, and already given so much. If he wanted living flowers, as temporary and difficult they were proving to be, then by Mahal, Thorin would see them bloom.

Balin nodded and brought his stylus up to his face, tapping it gently on his chin, his face screwing up in thought. "Has anyone thought to check the old greenhouses? The ones from the reign of Nain II?"

"Those must be ancient by now." Thorin hummed. "But perhaps, if they escaped the wrath of the dragon." He nodded, looking back over at Balin. "Have someone check them. See if anything still functions or grows there."

Balin nodded and turned, taking a different corridor to head back towards his office. Thorin continued on his pace, fingers pulling at his beard slightly. Nodding to himself, he changed course and turned to walk down a different path. He might as well check the old area himself, probably after dinner. He could only hope he would find something other than rubble, and perhaps a spot of color among the stone.

***

Bilbo enjoyed dinners in the mountain. Though not typically as loud as his first introduction to dwarven frivolity that had been the gathering at Bag End, they were usually joyful and plentiful. His favorite part was how often they would burst into song or dance, belting out a few verses before going back for more food and drink. It made for an entertaining evening every time. Even Thorin, when he wasn't occupied by other kingly duties, would join in the merriment from time to time. Bilbo particularly loved when he would bring out his harp and sing. Every time it would bring him right back to that first night and when he had first heard of the Lonely Mountain.

Thorin had joined them tonight, after a few days of being caught up in other responsibilities, and Bilbo had been looking forward to the possibility of hearing his dwarf sing, but dinner was wrapping up now, and Thorin had been brooding through the whole of the meal.

"You know, I think that chicken will taste much better if you chew it instead of glare at it," Bilbo said and elbowed Thorin's side.

The dwarf startled, knocking the table so hard that some drops of ale spilled out of his still mostly full flagon. Bilbo quickly grabbed a napkin and blotted up the liquid, raising an eyebrow at Thorin as he did.

"Care to tell me what's on your mind?" he nudged.

"It's nothing," Thorin said quickly, a slight pink highlighting the skin under his slowly growing beard. Bilbo raised an eyebrow higher and Thorin sighed, "Just.... wedding details."

"Wedding details that look like they might start a brawl with your dinner?" Bilbo nudges.

"Nothing major. It's just a sourcing issue." Thorin nodded, slowly relaxing himself into his chair. "I'm taking care of it."

Bilbo tilted his head at his fiancé. "Alright. Let me know if I can help with anything."

Thorin nodded and placed his hand over his burglar's. "Of course Zirizkhie."

Bilbo's nose crinkled. "You still haven't told me what these terms mean, you know."

"After the wedding." Thorin promised. "I'll teach you as much Khuzdul as you like."

"I'll hold you to that," he grinned. "Well then, I believe that your dinner has been glared at long enough." Bilbo speared a piece of chicken with his own fork and offered it to the dwarf. "Don't you?"

Thorin chuckled and leaned forward to take the morsel into his mouth. "Of course." Bilbo grinned as he fed his fiancé. Maybe this was even better than the singing in some ways.

***

The old greenhouses were a wreck. Some of the ancient supports were still standing, but only barely. Great chunks of rock rested around the old space, deep in the mountain where Smaug couldn't touch, but his movements above had obviously shifted things enough that Thorin would need to bring experts down to bolster the stone and make the space safe. It was a project that would need to be done anyway to secure the pathways above, but Thorin mentally moved it to the top of his list.

Picking his way through the rubble, lantern in hand, Thorin could see shattered glass and wood laying among dark soil. The whole area would need to be cleaned and sorted to ensure the safety of his hobbit.

It wasn't looking like there would be much in the way of flowers or greenery to be found. Thorin's shoulders slumped as he continued to evaluate the area.

Something metallic glinted off to the side, reflecting off the flickering lantern light. Thorin moved in that direction, frowning.

A tarnished silver mechanism poked out from the wall, a heavy layer of dust covering the top half of a lever. Gently, Thorin brushed the old dust away and blew it off what he could see of the mechanism. Most of it seemed to be buried in the stone of the wall itself. He pushed slightly against the lever, and with a creak, it lowered.

As the lever moved, Thorin could hear old gears grinding behind the stone, moving slowly as the lever was pushed downwards. He pressed harder, and in the rock above, he could hear a grinding sound, before a slight ray of light glimmered above. Immediately he stopped pushing and let go of the lever. The mechanism froze in place and the small light held steady.

Looking up, Thorin could see a maze of mirrors, directing the light downwards. The light was coming from high up on the mountain through a tiny gap in the stone, moved by the mechanism.

Jaw slightly agape, Thorin's eyes followed the light down until he could see where it rested behind a pile of rubble. Walking over, he pushed away one of the old supports. A cloud of dust billowed around him and he coughed, the taste of old stone and dirt coating his tongue.

As the air cleared, and the light focused, Thorin grinned.

There, growing out of the old soil, was a small green stem.

Thorin crouched down, fingers hovering over the small plant but not quite touching the slight fuzz. The tiny thing was curled slightly, a pale green shoot just poking out of the soil.

"Hello," he said quietly, almost tenderly. "I'm glad to meet you." The slight air from his breath moved the little plant, rocking it in the loose soil. Thorin grimaced at the delicate thing. "For such a stubborn plant you look delicate." he laughed, "Fitting for Bilbo, I suppose."

Carefully, Thorin stood and looked around. There would be much work to do to make this suitable, and it would need to be done carefully so as to preserve the little plant here. But it was something. Not a flower, certainly, but something.

He would need to bring a whole team down here. A delicate team. One that would work with precision and speed. Thorin nodded to himself and stood. It was just a small thing, a tiny little green thing in a world of stone. But as the dwarrow had returned to the mountain, as life returned to the land, and as Bilbo returned hope to a king, so too would this little plant return a garden to the mountain.

And just maybe, they would be able to grow their own flowers for the wedding.

***

Bilbo had not seen Thorin for a week. Or rather not much of him. He would catch glimpses of him in the halls occasionally, and Thorin still joined the great hall for dinner, but other than that Bilbo could not pin down the king for longer than a second or two.

And Bilbo was tired of it.

They were getting married for Eru's sake, he should be able to have a few minutes with his fiancé a few times a week.

Bilbo huffed as he walked down the hall, hands in his pockets.

"Of all the stupid, dwarven things. Confusticate them." He muttered to himself. "Having to deal with the elvish ambassador by myself. Not that Thorin would be much help there anyway, but it's the principle of the thing."

"You alright there, Bilbo?" a voice asked and Bilbo jumped slightly, turning.

"Oh, Bofur," Bilbo sighed, placing a hand over his heart to calm himself. "Yes, yes, I'm perfectly well. Just a touch startled is all."

"Ya were talkin' to yourself before I 'startled' ya." Bofur grinned. "But alrigh." He walked up and placed a hand on Bilbo's back. "I was asked to come find ya," his grin widened. "Need your help with somethin."

"Oh," Bilbo allowed himself to be turned and walked in step with Bofur. "Well, alright then I suppose. If you need something I would be happy to assist."

Bofur nodded and walked him down the hall, guiding Bilbo down a corridor he'd never explored before. "It's just down here if you want to make your way, there's a lad." Bofur said, nudging Bilbo's back and pushing him gently down the hall.

"Aren't you coming?" Bilbo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Aye, I'll be along." Bofur grinned. "I'll meet you there."

Bilbo pursed his lips, but turned and stepped down the path. The stone beneath his feet felt dusty as if no one had walked it in years until just recently. Ahead of him though, he could see a warm light illuminating the stone just after the curve of the path.

"What in Arda," he muttered slightly as he turned the path, blinking because the light was so strong.

Not lantern light... or torchlight... No, this was sunlight.

Bilbo had to blink the light out of his eyes for a moment, adjusting to the brightness, before he was able to see beyond.

But when he did.... Oh!

It wasn't much yet, no, but it was very clearly the beginnings of something very special indeed.

Dark, well turned earth began just a few paces in front of his feet. Bilbo couldn't help but step forwards, digging his feet into the soft soil, cool and lush under his toes. He sighed, his whole body relaxing into the feeling. Up ahead of him, he could see a well placed stone walkway meandering across the ground. A lovely arched stone gateway, flanked by a short stone wall surrounded a circle of turned earth. And right in the center, illuminated by a column of sunlight, stood Thorin, hands placed behind his back.

"Thorin," Bilbo breathed, "What... what is this?"

"Well," Thorin coughed into his hand. "It... you see...." he hummed. "It was the flowers."

"The flowers?" Bilbo urged, taking a few steps forwards and through the archway.

"The wedding flowers you want," Thorin nodded. "We couldn't find any growing nearby, and transporting them from afar would be, I'm told, not good for the blossoms."

Bilbo nodded as he spoke. "Yes, I suppose that's true. I didn't think of that when I said I wanted them."

"Yes, well." Thorin continued. "Balin remembered that in the time of Nain II, my forefather, there were built great greenhouses in the depths of the mountain. We... I was able to find the remnants of them, but there isn't much here." He stepped aside, and let Bilbo see beyond him, where the pale little shoot had grown into a small, more vibrantly green stem, now with two little leaves. "This was all I found, and it's not a blossom. But I have sent to our allies for seeds and perhaps starts if they can spare them."

Bilbo walked towards the small plant and reverently stroked a finger down a leaf. "This is a tomato," he said gently. "A tomato in Erebor." He looked towards Thorin. "Why did you set all this up?"

"I thought we could... well, I thought we might grow the flowers for our wedding together?" Thorin grimaced slightly. "I'm no well hand with plants or living things, but I thought you could teach me? I can help lift things at least." Bringing his hands out from behind him, he held out a freshly smithed set of garden tools.

Bilbo stood, not bothering to brush the dirt from his knees, and took the tools from Thorin. There was a small trowel, hand rake, and small spade. Perfectly formed for hobbit hands. Gathering the tools in his arms he looked up at Thorin.

"You built me a garden," he said simply.

"Yes," Thorin nodded. "Does it please you?"

"You built me a garden. And a tomato plant." He reiterated.

"Yes," Thorin bit his lip. "I hope you find it to be satisfactory."

"You want to grow flowers here for our wedding."

"Blast it all, yes you damned hobbit!" Thorin cried. "Do you like it or not, for if you don't tell me now and I will tear down every brick myself and rebuild until it is built perfectly to your standards."

Bilbo cried out and leapt into Thorin's arms, reaching up until he could cup the dwarf's face between his hands, tears streaming down his face.

"I love it you stupid dwarf!" Bilbo said, then crashed their mouths together, pressing into Thorin until his arms came up to cradle Bilbo against him. Thorin sighed into the embrace, hugging his hobbit close to him and allowing Bilbo's tears to run into his own beard.

Bilbo pulled back, his eyes still streaming. "My father gifted my mother tomatoes, did you know that?" Bilbo grinned. "Best tomatoes in the shire and he gave them to her in their marriage garden. Everyone was quite jealous I'll have you know. Completely green with envy."

"I did not know that." Thorin smiled. "The tomato plan pleases you then?"

"Of course it does. But it will take proper care, oh yes." Bilbo responded, wiggling out of Thorin's grasp. He picked the tools off the ground and looked around. "We'll need to properly fertilize the ground here, and I'm sure you can come up with a way to make sure we can get water down here, can't you?"

"Of course Ibine," Thorin smiled. "Anything for you."

Bilbo nodded. "We have much to do before those seeds get here." He said excitedly. "Imagine, growing the flowers for our wedding together? Oh, I can't tell you how my old aunties would swoon at the very idea."

Thorin followed Bilbo as he explored the space, smiling at his excited burglar. He couldn't wait until their wedding. Until he could see him crowned in the flowers they would grow together. And, to be certain, he would ensure that there were tomatoes at the wedding feast.

[blackarrcw]

@sapphircs | random starter.

The road to recovering their homeland had not been quite the easiest. With much stepping into their path trying to block the way, enemies chasing the company across the whole of Middle-Earth, it was certainly not a quest for the feint of heart.

Months had passed since the Battle of Five Armies. Erebor had been thriving under Dain's reign while Thorin and his nephews healed, each member of the line of Durin waking one by one over time. The elder of the three having woken up last due to how grievous his injuries were and how lucky he was to even have survived. They had all been lucky in their survival - with the elves as well as Tharkun helping in the aid. Another some few months would pass before either of the royals were able to fully walk around the halls of the mountain without any assistance or feeling as though they'd fall right there to their knees.

Eventually Thorin had been well enough to take the throne, coronation day having been set and whatnot between Balin and Dain. A thing that one would normally dread though Thorin had been raised to be prepared for times such as this, though it didn't mean that he wasn't without his fair share of nerves. Dwalin had tried his best to ease his friend and king, but no words given had settled the warrior's anxiousness. Usually speaking with either of the brothers of Fundin would have worked but for whatever reason; it hadn't seemed to work this time.

Damn it all.

There had been one last person he had not had the chance to see since his awakening, he'd missed her presence; her positivity - overall, her company. It would be a bit before he could break away from all of the meetings that had been scheduled, needing to get through the important parts first. As time would pass the meetings would end for the day allowing the brunette some time to himself. Once all had left the meeting hall, the warrior had slipped out last, a cloak in hand treading down the newly rebuilt halls of Erebor.

Thinya's shop his next destination.

[fanficwriting1]

Your Hypnotic Words (Updated Version)

Chapter Three: Spiteful Will

-Thorin-

Watching Bilbo with a close eye, his stomach clenched with . . . nervousness? Fear? He frowned. He had no reason to be worried - he was simply watching his One, if anything his nerves should be settling.

As Bilbo’s foot tapped a quicker rhythm, his eyes grew wider as he opened the section about the potential dangers, Thorin came to realize. He was feeling Bilbo’s emotions.

He lunged from his chair as his One toppled, grunting when his knees slammed against the floor, but relieved that he’d successfully protected Bilbo.

Silence fell in the kitchen for a moment before a low whistle sounded.

Thorin clicked and the whistling stopped.

He rose to his feet, Bilbo cradled in his arms. He walked into the parlor and sat his One comfortably into one of the large chairs, nabbing a nearby blanket and draping it over the hobbit's lap.

"You are unusually caring," Gandalf remarked.

Thorin looked at the Wizard. "Just ensuring our burglar remains unharmed."

With doubtful eyes, Gandalf entered further into the room and settled into the chair across from Bilbo. "You may not have a burglar."

"He won't come?"

"He's expressed his concerns about going on such a quest to me. I will try to convince him, but he is a very stubborn hobbit."

An unbidden smile rose to Thorin's lips. His One ought to be stubborn and mule-headed. Someone who could match his stubbornness toe-to-toe. His smile faded as he gazed longer at Bilbo.

Perhaps it was better for Bilbo Baggins to remain here, where he was safe and protected. If he were to leave with the company, he would undoubtedly get injured at some point in their travels. He pushed a curl off of Bilbo's forehead, fingers grazing his One's soft skin.

"There's no need to convince him, Tharkun. If he desires to come, I'll allow it, but if he doesn't wish to, I will not push him."

-Bilbo-

Bilbo found himself outside once again, sitting on his front bench. The stars were out, shining brightly above him, and he felt the comforting murmur of the plants that surrounded him.

The dining room window had been slightly cracked to help release the heat of having so many dwarrow within one room, so Bilbo found himself listening to the dwarrow inside.

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” asked a dwarrow.

“Aye.” came the rumble of the leader. “Envoys from all seven kingdoms.”

“What did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?” Bilbo identified the voice of the bald, tattooed dwarf.

There was a loud silence before the answer of “They will not come” sent the dwarrow into a raucous.

The leader quieted them before continuing, “They say this quest is ours and ours alone.”

Noise broke out once more, curses being sputtered and cries of ‘cowards’ and ‘gutless’ and many other things said by a language Bilbo couldn’t understand came.

“They have a loyalty and oath to fulfill!” came the yell of the tattooed dwarf.

��I cannot force them to come.” replied the leader, “This quest is one viewed as a folly. A fool’s quest. The lives sacrificed could be great. I’ve told all of you the potential cost of this quest and have given you the choice to leave; I’ve done the same with the envoys. It would not be honorable of me to neglect to share the same news of potential peril with them.”

There were grumbles. The conversation continued, speaking of signs.

There was the scraping noise of a chair being pushed back before the leader’s voice came, “If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have begun to read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back as others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?”

Bilbo had to admit that the idea of leaving one’s home and wealth for someone to freely take did sound abominable. Especially if that someone was your enemy. Like a Sackville-Baggins.

He said nothing as Gandalf came out and settled next to him. They sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke, voice hushed.

“Why do you need me, Gandalf?” he paused, “If you had simply wanted the stealth abilities of a hobbit, you could have gone and appealed to any Took or bounder, and they would have agreed quickly. Then let me ask you – what good could my abilities do for this group? You are well aware of the dangers presented by being in the presence of my thrall for too long, and if you wish for me to use my power, this group will inevitably fall.”

“Without you, Bilbo Baggins, these dwarrow will fail and all of Middle Earth will perish.”

Bilbo sat quietly for a long moment. “I do not presume to know of all your powers, but if foresight is one of them, then I’m certain you could find another path without me that will lead them to success.”

Gandalf’s voice was grave. “I do not have such a power, but I can say that there is no route that can be taken without you that they will succeed.”

“I suggest you find another. I will not come.” Bilbo stood, and left, unwilling to continue the conversation.

-Thorin-

Thorin sat in the parlor, the group of dwarrow snoring around him, taken to sleeping in chairs or the floor - they were quite accustomed to such arrangements. He briefly startled at the noise of the front door opening, as the host walked into the front entry. He saw him peer into the entry and seemed to miss that Thorin was still awake.

The hobbit sighed, and rubbed his eyes with a hand, dislodging his frames.

“I’m afraid I was unable to catch your name.” Thorin said.

Jolting, the hobbit looked at him, and Thorin was once again taken by the green depth of his eyes. Green was a color not often found among dwarves, and Thorin couldn’t help but compare it to the rare emeralds within the mountains that were sometimes found.

The hobbit looked at him, unimpressed, and Thorin desperately wished he could backtrack as he recalled that the hobbit couldn’t speak, feeling heat crawl up to his ears. He coughed, trying to cover his blunder. “I apologize for our unceremonious arrival, I was unaware that Tharukun did not inform you.”

The creature gave a wave and shrugged, and before he could say anything else, the hobbit turned, walking away from the parlor.

As soon as the creature was gone, Thorin groaned, rubbing his forehead in embarrassment.

“His name is Bilbo Baggins.”

Thorin felt twice as embarrassed as he found Dwalin looking at him knowingly, a smirk on his lips.

“Atkât.” Thorin said, before trying to sleep, blocking out Dwalin’s laugh.

"'E's your One, ain't 'e?" Dwalin's voice was quiet this time.

Thorin swallowed.

"Ain't everyone lucky enough to get a One, Thorin. Fewer still find 'em."

Thorin knew that. He'd been startled enough to find out that his One was such a gentle creature - an entirely different race than a dwarf. Thorin hadn't even known that was possible. He didn't respond to Dwalin's words.

———

-Bilbo-

He glared at the paper and the space at the bottom for his name. The signatures of Balin and Thorin seemed to mock him.

He'd woken up early that morning, earlier than the dwarrow, and had listened to the dwarrow rummage around and ready to leave.

"It seems we don't have a burglar." Came Balin's voice.

"I think we're the better for it!" Gloin boomed. "The halfling was far too weak - he'd only slow us down. No doubt he would get us into more trouble than he is worth!" He chortled.

Bilbo's pride had smarted at that. There was something about Gloin that made it difficult for Bilbo to bite his tongue, he wasn't sure why he found himself so often annoyed at the dwarf's words, but they remained in his mind long after the group had left and he'd come out to find the contract signed and sitting on a small desk.

He sighed, grabbed the contract, and signed his name with flourishing strokes. If the dwarrow were so intent on underestimating him, he would show that he was not so easily deterred by their insults and was more than capable of participating in their quest.

With hasty movements, he shoved everything he thought he would need for a quest into a large pack - he'd gone on enough walking holidays to have some understanding of what he'd need to bring - threw on a yellow waistcoat, and red coat, locked his smial door behind him, and raced away along the Shire's path, contract fluttering in the wind. He'd have to move quickly to catch up to the company.

———

Bilbo was miserable. His nose was on fire, his eyes watered, he’d forgotten to bring his handkerchief, and he was incredibly uncomfortable, having never ridden a pony in his life. As he sneezed again, he groaned.

“Doing alright back there, Mister Boggins?” a light voice called.

Bilbo rose his head high enough to glare at the young dwarrow who’d fallen back to ride beside him.

“Not a very happy fellow, are you?”

Bilbo groaned again.

“Bilbo is a hobbit of few words, mind you.” Bofur shouted, to which he received a venomous glare from Bilbo.

What had possessed Bilbo to agree and rush out the door this morning, he did not know, but he was thoroughly regretting it at this point. He had no previous inclination or intent to go on the quest, but when he rose that morning and saw the dwarrow gone, he’d been seized with some kind of worry, and found himself rushing out his door, with a bag hastily tossed together, which led to him forgetting his handkerchief.

When he had caught up to the company, Gandalf had looked far too pleased for his liking. He did not care for things that pleased the Wizard, and part of him was wishing that he had stayed back, simply so that Gandalf would not be looking so smug.

[vor0nwe]

"Many are my names in many countries. Mithrandir among the Elves, Tharkûn to the Dwarves; Olórin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten, in the South Incánus, in the North Gandalf, to the East I go not."

[alleksistrash]

The Stone On The Wall

Chapter 3 of (?)

TW: Description of seizure

Previous Chapter:

Bilbo had collapsed again, but this time Thorin had managed to wrap his arms around the small hobbit before he could hit the ground. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he went to lay Bilbo down on the ground until he started convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Panic tore through Thorin like a knife, and he could hear Fili and Kili yelling in Khuzdul. He shot his head up at Gandalf as the wizard spoke, “We must get him to the elfs, they are better prepared than we are!” Protests broke out from the dwarves, until Gandalf silenced them, “Would you rather Bilbo get the help he needs, or watch him die in Thorins arms?” Thorin lifted the burglar into his arms, before turning to Dain. “I will need your pig to reach Dale faster, go to the others and inform them what has happened.” Dain gave a stiff nod before helping Thorin lift the hobbit up onto his war pig, holding him in place until Thorin was able to mount as well. Bilbo’s mouth was no longer covered in foam, but he was still convulsing slightly. Thorin looked down at his kin, “I will stay with Bilbo until he can return to the mountain.” With that he took off towards Dale, praying to Durin that the elfs could help.

Kili turned back from watching his uncle ride off with Bilbo, facing Balin. “Do you think Master Boggins will be alright? I mean, he has to be, right? He survived a dragon, what could a small dart do at this point?” The prince chuckled nervously, trying to help lighten the mood. Balin just looked at him with a sad expression, a mix of pity and concern behind his eyes. Fili threw his arm around his younger brother’s shoulders, shaking him slightly as if to help reassure him. “He’ll be alright Kee, like you said he survived a dragon! I’m sure the elfs will find some magical nonsense to help him. Let’s get back to the others and let uncle worry about Bilbo.” With that the five dwarrows and Gandalf set off to the mountain. As they passed by Dain’s army, he informed them to stand guard in case of any more surprise attacks. 

Once they were back inside the mountain, they were met with the rest of the company. All at once, they started asking a million questions. Where were Thorin and Bilbo? What did those pesky elfs want? What happened out there? Balin stepped forward, putting his hands up in front of him to quiet the others. He looked at the dwarves in front of him before sighing and rubbing a hand through his beard. “Thorin agreed to help the people of Dale with rebuilding, and give them what they were promised for helping us. He also agreed to..” he paused before continuing, bracing himself for the anger he knew would come, “He also agreed to giving Thranduil the gems of Lasgalen, as King Thror had promised.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the dwarves were in an uproar. Even Dain had joined them, as he did not know of the agreements made. The older dwarf pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling about dwarrow stubbornness. Once the group had settled back down, he continued. “Once Lord Dain arrived to our little group, some.. Not so kind words were exchanged between him and Bilbo.” Some of the company turned to glare at Dain, including Bofur and Ori. “Bilbo started to act odd, and it seemed as though the lad was struggling to control himself. He collapsed again and began to seize, so Thorin took him to Dale to see if the elfs could help. Tharkun assured us that they would be better equipped to help than we would be, considering we still aren’t sure what little medicine we have is still good.” Oin grunted at this, upset with himself that he might have done more harm than good to their burglar.

The dwarves began to mutter between themselves, causing Gandalf to raise his eyebrow in confusion. When they seemed to have reached a consensus, they turned to Gandalf before Ori spoke up. “We’d like to go visit Master Baggins, to help make sure he’s not alone. We can all take turns sitting with him, and maybe help Thorin keep his cool around the elfs!” Ori rubbed the back of his neck as he finished, knowing as well as everyone that Thorin did not take kindly to being surrounded by elfs. If going by how uneasy Thorin was with the elfs at Rivendell, and being locked in the dungeons in Mirkwood, it would not be a fun time for anyone involved while he was in Dale. Gandalf chuckled at this and ran his hand through his beard, as if thinking over the matter. “I suppose it would be a good idea to go visit our dear burglar. It would also be wise to start the discussions that Thorin must have between the men of Dale and the Mirkwood elfs, so someone may watch over Bilbo while he is busy.” He had a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a smirk as he spoke, as if he was the only one in on a secret. If the dwarves took notice, they didn’t mention it as they were more busy trying to come up with a rotation on who’d be with Bilbo and when, and what the others would be doing while trying to help with Dale.

Dain spoke up with a gruff voice, “I suppose I can return to my men, and we can keep watch over the mountain while you lot take care of Thorin and Bilbo. Will ya let him know I am dreadfully sorry for what I said? It’d be much appreciated.” Balin patted him on his shoulder, reassuring him that he would talk to Bilbo once the hobbit was awake. Dain turned and left to return to the army outside, leaving the company to their planning. Ori began scribbling down the plan for watching over Bilbo, and any areas the dwarves could focus on to help start rebuilding Dale. It was agreed that Balin would spend most of the time with Thorin, making sure he didn’t try to kill Thranduil. Fili and Kili called dibs on being the first two, and it was settled that Nori and Bofur would swap out with them after. They decided to stay in pairs, making sure one was by Bilbo’s side while the other helped with the elfs if need be, or getting him anything he needed once he was awake. They were debating over how long each group would stay, until it was settled they’d each spend an hour with their dear hobbit. This allowed the groups that weren’t with Bilbo to get more work done with the men, and explore the city when they took breaks.

Next Chapter:

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Hobbit Teasers and Future Works

FUTURE WIPS

Bonded

Summary: The Naming Ceremony where a hobbit bonds with his dragon for the first time is supposed to be a blessing, Bilbo’s came as more of a curse when he was chosen as the Alpha-Bond. Bilbo and Smaug have never gotten along, but after a Naming Ceremony goes wrong and Smaug is fleeing the Shire, Bilbo knows he will stop at nothing until he sees their Alpha safely home.

Teasers: Teaser 1

Chasing Dragons and Bedding Burglars

Summary: When Thorin Oakenshield transferred to Ered Luin PD, there was really only one thing on his mind: finally catch the monster that destroyed his family. However, he quickly learns Ered Luin lives under the rule of the local mafia and figures the only way to catch Smaug is to pretend to be a dirty cop and make nice with the supposed crime boss known only as “The Burglar”.

Teasers: (I have changed Thorin and Bilbo's positions since these teasers, but they still somewhat apply.) Birthday WIPs and Things

From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories

Summary: Bilbo was just checking on a coma patient that he might have a teensy little crush on. Now, he’s on the run with said man who can’t even remember who he is as they escape assassins and potentially uncover a plot that will destroy Erebor.

Teasers: Modern May | Birthday Plot Bunnies

I Married an Assassin

Summary: Twelve years ago, Bilbo fell for a charming man who saved his life in his university library. While he loves his husband and their son, he finds his life to be a bit…dull. So when he comes across the adventure of a lifetime, he has to take it! Only this particular adventure has the potential to crash his life around him considering his boring accountant husband might actually be an assassin who’s been doing his best to keep him out of the eyes of a terrorist organization due to a clue left behind by his mother.

Teasers: Modern May

Oakenshield's Fourteen

Summary: After being framed and imprisoned for embezzlement, Thorin is out for revenge. He's going to need a crew if he's going to pull off this heist though, and he's not so sure about Gandalf's fourteenth man.

Teasers: Teaser 1 | Birthday WIPs and Things

BIRTHDAY PLOT BUNNIES

2020

Journey to You- Bilbo made his peace with returning back to the Shire, but starts to become bored and finds himself longing for Thorin. (Post-BOFTA AU)

A Hobbit's Tale: Reclaiming One's Home- Prince Bilbo is willing to do whatever it takes to reclaim the Shire, even team up with a band of dwarven blacksmiths disguised as warriors. (Role Reversal AU)

Second Chance at a Happy Ending- Bilbo and Thorin have no business existing in the same universe as each other, and yet they dream of each other from a time long ago. (Reincarnation AU)

T'was Wit That Slew the Dragon- Bilbo's dream to be a screenwriter quickly changes into a nightmare when they land on Dol Guldur and a handful of cannibalistic locals sacrifice him to a red dragon. (King Kong AU)

2021

Heart of the Mountain- What if Thror wasn’t mad like everyone thought? What if the Arkenstone was truly at fault? Questions Bilbo and Thorin will have to answer together after Bilbo is swallowed by the gem. (Evil Arkenstone AU)

One Last Adventure- When a new group of dwarves appear on his doorstep for his services at the suggestion of their king, Bilbo hopes against hope that means Thorin is out there waiting for him. (Canon Compliant)

The Hoardless Dragon- Thorin has been waiting his whole life for something interesting to happen in Erebor, and when Tharkun arrives with a “dragon expert” to warn of Smaug’s survival he thinks he may have gotten his wish. (Dragon Bilbo AU)

For the Love of My Husband- Bilbo is a thief and a conman who has tricked Thorin, Crown Prince of Erebor, to marry him as an escape from a tight spot. (Thief Bilbo)

2022

Fighting for a Dragon's Wish- Bilbo finds himself traversing the galaxy in search of the Silmarils which may have the power to restore the Arkenstone, and along the way learn that he actually has more in common with the Ereborians than he realizes. (Dragonball Z AU)

Together in Erebor- The Fall of Erebor was a tragic tale where all of the line of Durin was wiped out by Azog the Defiler, save for the young Princess Dis...and the rumors of Prince Thorin surviving as well. (Anastasia AU)

Erebor's Monster- Bilbo is investigating ‘Erebor’s Monster’ in secret trying to discovery the nature of all the mysterious disappearances the town has suffered. (Loch Ness AU)

Cheat Code- Fiddling with one of Frodo’s games one night, Bilbo found that every night at 2:17am he is sucked into the video game world of: Quest for Erebor. (Video Game AU)

2023

Oakenshield: Prince or Thief?- There are actually two beings claiming to be ‘Oakenshield’, and then there’s the small problem of them not being aware of the other until Bilbo comes across a Company of dwarves in Mirkwood. (Robin Hood AU)

[mi-voragine]

I needed to draw my lovely @tharkun-istari since I found the sweetest song on the clock app, Taroko.✨🪼

[mid-gaurdian]

Gandalf the Grey/Tharkun/Mithrandir by me. Been in the mood to draw the various characters of Middle-Earth.

[ishtanya]

Did a little research, Olorin means Dream (precisely, a mind construction that do not exis in Eä, but his name is just used to mean dream).

Incanus does not seem to have an etymology. In a letter, Tolkien said it meant "North spy" because it was his haradrim name, but then stepped back and no, it was used in Gondor before they used Mithrandir.

As for Tharkun... That means Staff-man. The dwarves also just saw a man with a staff XD

It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:

Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.

Guard 1: What weird guy?

Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?

Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?

Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.

Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.

Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.

Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.

Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.

Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?

Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.

Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?

Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.

Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.

Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.

Librarian: How long has he been coming here?

Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.

Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.

Guard 2: Wait, really?

Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.

Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?

Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.

Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?

Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!

Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?

Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.

Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!

Archivist: Also he's really old.

Guard 1: Old as balls.

Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.

Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.

Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.

Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.

Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?

Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.

Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.

Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?

Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.

Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?

Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.

Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?

Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!

Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!

Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.

Guard 1: Why not?

Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?

Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!

Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.

Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.

Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!

Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.

Archivist: You're not a baby.

Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!

Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.

Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?

Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?

Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?

Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.

Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?

Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.

Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.

Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.

Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?

Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.

Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?

Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.

Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.

Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?

Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!

Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?

Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?

Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-

Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?

Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?

Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!

Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)

Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?

Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.

Librarian: Oh.

Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.

Librarian: Oh.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah!

[ghoulishundertakings]

✒️

Every name he bears is a gift, though he has to remind himself of that on some days. Mithrandir, Olorin, Greyhame, the Grey Pilgrim, Tharkun, even Storm-Crow. All of them himself in a different light, a different time, a different wizard perhaps. But, Gandalf, that is a near constant. It is not even the name he was given at the beginning, but it feels the nearest his heart.

There are dust motes dancing like fireflies in the glow of the sun that managed to make itself known even through the drawing room windows. They remind him of cast offs of a fire, of which he has seen many. Sat around many, listened to his friends talk, joke, laugh around while a spit turned over it. Those days seem far off now. As ancient as himself. It would be easier to think that if his friend looked older than when they first met. And, while it may cast a brief sadness on him -- to witness aging in so beloved a companion, to mark the years together as coming to a close -- he believes it would also not draw his mind to far more dangerous fires.

It is an old habit, a comfort, to feel the soft wood of the pipe in his hand, and stuff it with leaf in just the right manner. Forming a few distracted shapes with the smoke gives him a measure of control, control that he feels slipping dangerously quickly from his hands. How had he missed this? And what was the price?

He did not get an exact answer that night, nor for many to come. In fact, the cost really did not come until the end and the new beginning. It would cost everything, for them all.

[hearthedungeons]

Grimdor - Tharkûn (Demo) and The Mountain Path (Demo)

In the past I've chosen to review two short albums by an artist because they are a complement to each other. In this case, it's just because these two releases comprise maybe a total of 9 minutes of music. Grimdor is apparently quite loved for this sort of thing - other releases have combined DS and raw Black Metal into the sound, and those set a fairly high standard for that mix of genres that is often imitated and very rarely reached, in my opinion, with a combination of low-fi sound and fully conceived songwriting and execution that perhaps sounds easier to do than it actually is.

For the releases at hand, we have pure DS. Tharkûn (Demo) clocks in at 5 minutes and 58 seconds, while The Mountain Path is 2 minutes and 48 seconds. Both releases seem to be recorded in a single take, with a single instrument setting. The brevity of the tracks means, for the most part, that not a note is wasted. You'll hear absolutely nothing new here harmonically - these songs are all built on the very archetypal chord progressions of dungeon synth, but it is their strong melodic presence that drives them. These melodies - sometimes leading the piece, sometimes working in the space around a simple rhythmic figure - all seem improvised on the spot and in relation to the keyboard patch used. If there's more than a single musical idea, you never hear each idea more than once - no returning back to the original idea if the tune ever departs from its starting point. Compositionally this is about as barebones as it gets. Four out of 5 of the pieces on Tharkûn have the same key center (A minor), and when you're dealing with archetypal DS composition, you end up with what feels like some redundant melodies. The first three tracks here seem perfectly evocative and assured, the kind of timeless combination of . The last two feel a little more meandering or uncertain, as though perhaps a creative or chemical buzz was starting to fade.

The pros of this approach are that when the iron is hot, the end result is totally evocative - for less than 90 seconds per song. Some of these melodies, in combination with the minimal but well chosen sound world, are about as evocative of the mythic/medieval sound as any of the 90s classic recordings. The cons are that 6 minutes is, for most of us, not enough time to really make a proper escape from the world. As part of a gaming or reading playlist (perhaps consisting of the entire discography, which would be maaaaybe one hour at most), this music would make an excellent contribution.

The even shorter "The Mountain Path (Demo), begins with one track, also in A minor. This one feels like it could've been left off of Tharkûn, but it's a phenomenal melody, about as complex as can be accomplished with a simplistic progression like this without feeling too meandering. The second track offers some pretty significant contrast (compared to the other release), both in terms of the qualities of the melody and the key (F# minor). The progression is similar, but the character of each is quite a contrast.

So the question on my mind - why so many short releases? This artist seems to have access to a dungeon stream of great purity, yet only choses to dip a shallow cup in for each release. The artwork is evocative, yet the tracks have no titles. The album titles themselves are unfamiliar to a person with a more-than-passing knowledge of the Tolkien universe, but without much else to go on, it feels like a default setting for creative inspiration. Does the artist feel as though the magic would somehow be ruined if the length of these releases got any longer? I would love to know

But it is useless to complain about what isn't here - what IS here is quite strong and evocative. I bet this artist could destroy the competition if they chose to put out even a 20 minute release with even a tiny bit more versatility, though.

[noitedeluar]

Gandalf, o Cinzento by me.

[ainurmoodboards]

Olórin

The Dreamer, The Visionary

Later names: Gandalf, Mithrandir, Incánus, Tharkûn, Láthspell

Later Surnames: The Grey, Greyhame, Stormcrow, The White, The White Rider

Olórin was originally a Maia who was associated primarily with Manwë and Varda, although he frequently visited Nienna and also spent time with Irmo/Lorien. His name comes from a Quenya root meaning “dream or vision” and he was strongly associated with light and fire. He would either disguise himself as an elf or go amongst them unseen to provide them with wisdom, hope, and guidance. 

When the Valar decided to send a group of Maiar disguised as old wizards to help the peoples of Middle-earth resist Sauron, Olórin was one of those chosen by the council. He was reluctant to go at first, believing himself unprepared and unworthy for the difficult task mainly because he feared Sauron. But Manwë commanded him to go as the third Istari, and Varda remarked that he was not the third, indicating that she and her husband (accurately) saw him as being superior to the others who had been chosen. This statement was noted by Curunir/Curumo (Saruman) and thus his resent towards Gandalf began before they had even arrived in Middle-earth. 

When he arrived in Middle-earth Olórin took the form of a wandering old man who wore the color grey. According to some versions of its story, Yavanna gave the Elessar (elfstone) to Olórin to bring to Middle-earth as a sign that the Valar had not forgotten its people. He gave this to Galadriel and prophesied that she would eventually pass it on to someone else. This became true when Galadriel gave it to Aragorn during the Fellowship’s stay in Lothlorien as a sort of early wedding present, since he would eventually marry her granddaughter Arwen. He wore it from then on, and when he became king he took the name Elessar. 

Olórin traveled amongst the many peoples of Middle-earth, providing guidance in their resistance to Sauron. One of his most common names was Gandalf, which translates to something like “wand elf” due to his use of a staff and the misconception amongst many men that he was an elf. This was one of his most common names, and was used by both men and hobbits. Among the elves he was known as Mithrandir, which means Grey Pilgrim or Grey Wanderer. Another name given to him by men, Incánus, had different meanings that Tolkien couldn’t decide on and could mean either North-Spy (as a name given to him by the Haradrim) or Mind-Ruler. Among the dwarves he was Tharkûn, meaning either Grey-man or Staff-man. The people of Rohan called him Greyhame, which means Greycloak, as well as The White Rider when he rode his horse Shadowfax. He was also given names such as Stormcrow and Láthspell (ill-news) in reference to the fact that he often appeared at tense times bringing troubling news. Hence, his visits were often seen as a bad omen, even though he himself was there to provide assistance. In Tolkien’s earlier works, his name was Bladorthin, while Gandalf was the name of the character who eventually was named Thorin Oakenshield. Bladorthin instead became the name of an obscure king of a great region that traded with Erebor; his race and the location of his kingdom aren’t given by Tolkien and have sparked much speculation and debate among scholars.

In addition to the Elessar, Gandalf also possessed the sword Glamdring, which allegedly once belonged to king Turgon of Gondolin. He also wielded Narya, The Ring of Fire, one of the three elven rings of power which was given to him when he arrived in Middle-earth by Cirdan the Shipwright, who recognized his divine nature despite his elderly appearance. His possession of it became known to Saruman and was another source of his resentment towards Gandalf. 

Olórin/Gandalf played a major role in the War of the Ring, and his most notable actions included guiding the Fellowship, freeing King Theoden from Saruman’s influence, rescuing Faramir from Osgiliath and later from his own father, leading the defense of Minas Tirith, and rescuing Frodo and Sam from Mount Doom. After the War of the Ring was over, he crowned Aragorn king of the reunited realms of Gondor and Arnor. He later spent an extended time visiting with Tom Bombadil before he eventually returned to Valinor along with Elrond, Galadriel, Bilbo, and Frodo. 

He could be stern and temperamental at times, but he also had a jovial side which he may have picked up from the large amount of time he spent among hobbits. He enjoyed smoking pipeweed and blowing smoke rings, and he was associated with celebrations due to his impressive fireworks. Gandalf was also well attuned to nature and was said to have an even better relationship with birds then his friend Radagast the Brown.