#damn aragorn is fine....

[balrogballs]

I'm still sad about this heartwarming and mildly amusing little section where feral adolescent Aragorn brings some joy to Maedhros in his unhinged little way, which I had to cut out of Cast in Stone for structural reasons, especially as I had gone to the trouble of illustrating it!

But I realised it reads perfectly fine standalone, so you guys can have my crumb of Maedhros-joy instead. No context required: Maedhros and Maglor are temporarily staying in the Shire during the late Third Age, Maedhros had a horrible night of traumatic dreams and was being maudlin — until young Aragorn, aka Elros II and the bane of his life, turns up like a bad penny, as he often does. Enjoy!

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"You look unhappy," said Estel, sitting down before Maedhros, legs crossed. "Does your hand hurt? Surely it can't be as bad as when it got chopped off, can it?"

"No, but leave me be, Estel, I have —"

"All right, but let me ask just one question. I promise, then I'll go away. I just remembered something from my lessons, and every time I ask Ada he looks up at the sky and asks the Valar where he went wrong in raising me," Estel moved closer, looking around for eavesdroppers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I would like to know."

Maedhros frowned, swallowed the lump in his throat and dragged in a breath. "What?"

"Fingon rescued you on one of those enormous eagles, didn't he? On that mountain with Morgoth and all of that. It was one of those, right? Manwë's Eagles."

"Yes. He did. I do not wish to answer any further questions on the matter, clear off."

"And it was quite a long journey, wasn't it?"

Maedhros grunted.

"I've always had a question about it… and again, you don't have to tell me if it's too traumatising," Estel's eyes shone, as though he were about to hear a state secret. "And I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Spit it out, boy, or leave me now. I am in the mood for neither company nor memory."

"Did it… you know…?"

"If you're trying to ask me if losing the hand hurt, yes it did," Maedhros snapped. "Now leave me alone, I've had enough reminiscing for a damned century. Get off home, now!"

"Oh, shut up, I wasn't asking about your stupid hand, I don't understand why you think everyone sits around thinking about your hand," Estel scowled, pursuing his lips, before deciding his quest for scientific knowledge was more important than whatever had crawled up Maedhros' arsehole and died. He widened his eyes conspiratorily, looked around again. "My question has nothing to do with that! I just wanted to know, did the eagle… you know?"

"Estel, I am not going to repeat this, get out of my sight right this —"

"Did it take a shit?"

"Did… what?"

"Did it take a shit?" Estel flushed as he said the word, Elrond's parental touch finally taking hold, though in a predictably useless manner. "And if it did, how big was it? As in, was it normal bird crap, or was it, you know — like a bucketload of it?"

Maedhros blinked. Estel held his hands out to demonstrate.

"I've always wanted to know that about them, you know," the boy continued, stroking his chin like a philosopher. "Manwe's eagles, that is. Surely if they're big enough to carry two people, one being a towering beast like you, their droppings must be massive."

"What…?" Maedhros couldn't formulate words, a state of being Estel clearly had no familiarity with. "Their… what?"

"And yes, I know they're divine, all of that, but surely they can't be toilet trained, can they? I just don't see Manwë having enough time to toilet train an eagle, you know. Could you imagine just… going about your day, and having this massive tub of birdshite fall on your head? Oh, it could drown a person, I'm sure of it!" Estel grinned, as if said occurrence would be the best day of his life, had it happened to him. "So, did it? And if it did, did you see if it went on someone?"

Maedhros sat there blinking at the boy in complete silence before rising quietly, taking the now-extremely-familiar ear, and slowly — like he were a corpse — leading Estel to the village gate. He didn't say a word, only gestured weakly and put up three fingers, a signal the now sulky boy was very used to.

And as Estel, muttering darkly all the while, neared the completion of his first punishment-lap of three around the village green, he heard something that sounded like a donkey in immense pain. It was a sound so tremendous and unexpected that it brought Maglor running from the house, gaping at the source, having not heard such a thing in centuries. It was no donkey, but Maedhros in complete hysterics, sitting on the ground exactly where he was when he beckoned Estel to run, sobbing with laughter, actual tears pouring down his face, which itself was screwed up and flushed so pink he looked like he'd been badly sunburned. He was trying to explain the situation to Maglor (who had been glaring at Estel as if he had personally killed his brother, and now looked upon him like he was Iluvatar himself) but Maedhros was howling too hard to even stand, let alone form coherent words.

Estel pretended not to notice, and started on his second lap. Though objectively speaking, the laugh itself sounded like something between a foghorn, a pig and whatever noise he imagined Ungoliant would make — there was something rather lovely about it that brought an inexplicable little smile to his face.

[tathrin]

Ahhh thank you @realtacuardach​! And I agree. And I think it bothers them much more to see their friend not being appreciated enough/properly than it does themselves (in part because they’re used to that, they don’t notice). I also think they’re probably much more distressed at seeing their friend’s people not appreciate them properly than they are at seeing their people do it to them.

They expected their people to have a hard time seeing how awesome the other was, because of all the baggage between elves and dwarves. They aren’t happy about it, and they want to fix it, absolutely, but at least they were braced for it. Realizing that their friend’s own people don’t see how awesome they are...well, that’s just upsetting. How can that be!?

“How can Gimli’s people take him for granted so? Do the dwarves not realize what a gem they have among them???”

“How frustrating that Legolas’s people persist in viewing him like some feckless child! How can a people so keen-sighted be so blind???”

etc etc.

And they try to explain their distress to the other one, and are just met with “oh pfffft you’re blowing things out of proportion, don’t be silly, I’m fine they’re fine this is fine! Now, the way they treat you on the other hand...”

Back at you with the asks! You write Gimli and Legolas as distinctively representative of their own peoples, and clearly you have some pretty strong headcanons about dwarves and elves, as kindreds. What counts as "smart" and "capable" for each, and how much would your Gimli and Legolas be considered smart and capable by their respective cultures? What might each of their peoples think of Gimli's and Legolas' particular strengths? What might their relative weaknesses be, in their own contexts? How much do you consciously or unconsciously write them to balance each other's weaknesses, within or across cultures?

Ohhhhh boy wow this is an extremely delightful and, frankly, flattering question and I feel like you are maybe giving me more credit for Thinking Things Through than I have actually earned or deserve, but I am going to try to answer it in full the way such a fantastic query deserves as best I can anyway!

(the not-so-secret secret is that I write a lot more by instinct/seat-of-my-pants than I probably should shhhhhh.)

Legolas and the Wood-elves: he's everybody's little brother. He's one of (if not the) youngest elves in Mirkwood, one of the very last to be born before the Shadow (which was already creeping over the forest when he was born, although only a little bit; not enough that they had to really acknowledge it yet, even if they had sort of noticed its first unwelcome tendrils) grew so dark that they stopped risking birthing new children into their woods.

So Mirkwood (Greenwood still, then; Greenwood for a long, long time before they finally resigned themselves to the truth of the name everyone else had given them a long time ago) has always, in my head, been a very we'll be happy to spite you on purpose sort of place. Their forest is awash in darkness, so they will be joyful as a weapon against the dark. They're happy on purpose. Their merriment is a weapon. And they raised their children to be happy, dammit. Not naive, not vulnerable; they couldn't afford that. They raised them to know the dangers of their forest, and to know how to protect themselves against it, yes; but also to do so without ever giving up on joy and laughter. Which was a weapon, yes, but it was also very important to them that their children would still grow-up happy. That no matter how dark Mirkwood got, the children would never stop laughing.

Which was great, and I think informs Legolas's attitude and consistent cheerfulness during the Quest very much (of course it does, since it's being worked backwards from the canonical fact of said attitude, as an explanation for it lol)...but also, as a sort of unintended side-effect, the elves of Mirkwood didn't really want to see their youngest generation grow up, not entirely. Elves clearly have to be able to adapt to seeing someone they knew as a baby as a whole-ass adult, because they live forever (unless you kill them) so there's no just aging-out and letting the new generation eventually take over; the new generation lives alongside all the old ones too. So they'd have to have become adept at this shift in perspective, culturally.

However. The last generation of children born in Greenwood before it became Mirkwood is a special case, because their youth was such a source of joy to everyone else that they just sort of...never entirely stopped thinking of them as kids. (The fact that there hasn't yet been a generation of kids to follow them contributes to this too, of course; they're seen as The Youngsters because they still are the youngest.)

So on one hand, yes everyone has learned to respect the skills and fighting prowess of "the youngsters" because this is Mirkwood, and you aren't going to have many elves who don't go out and fight because practically everything in the forest wants to kill you a little bit. And Mirkwood values things like swift reflexes and sharp eyes and good aim, because that's how you stay alive; they value being able to judge the difference between a shadow and A Shadow at a glance because if you guess wrong "dying" is sort of the best-case result. They value loyalty and determination and the ability to be joyful even in the face of defeat and despair. And Legolas has all of those traits and skills, for sure.

In fact I think Legolas is one of their best archers (in a scene I can't remember whether I've published yet or not, his sister muses on how it might be because his spirits are so bright that his vision is yet unclouded by the Shadow that hangs heavy on the rest of them) and he's definitely trusted to, like, Walk Into The Murderforest And Come Back Alive, sure. They trust him in a fight! He's a competent adult and a skilled archer! But he's also still a kid to their eyes, in a lot of ways, even though he isn't and they know he isn't...but he still feels like one.

So it's not like they're condescending or cruel or anything, but they do I think look at him and instinctively think "oh no baby, must take care of" on some level. So: is he seen as smart and capable? Yes, for sure. But also: "omg Elrond did you really send A CHILD to MORDOR?" Elrond: he's six-hundred years old wtf. Mirkwood: "yes, a six-hundred-year-old BABY!" Elrond: .....wtf tho. So, again, it's not like his opinions or suggestions would be dismissed or ignored...but there's always going to be a bit of a protective urge there (because the elves of Mirkwood worked so hard to protect their last generation of children, and it's a hard habit to break even though they aren't children anymore) and a kind of eternal-head-pat vibe.

Also he is sheltered. (Or was, before the Quest. I expect Elrond was smart enough to try and avoid Thranduil as much as possible before he got on that boat to Aman.) I go back and forth on whether or not Rílaerloth was involved in the Battle of Five Armies, but Legolas was absolutely not brought along when Thranduil marched a bunch of their forces off to potential-war-with-the-dwarves. It's one thing to let your kids go out and shoot spiders and possibly risk a glancing encounter with a Nazgûl ("and what do we do if we see one of the Lords of Dol Guldur? That's right we run the fuck away, thank you children") and another thing altogether to bring them purposefully to something that might become a war.

Especially for the elves of Mirkwood, who lost so much in the War of the Last Alliance. None of the folks who lived through that would be keen to bring any of the "youngsters" into a full-fledged war I don't think, even a comparatively little one that they were all expecting would end up being nothing more than some Posturing With Weapons in the end. (If Thranduil had known that it was going to be an actual war he wouldn't have brought Rílaerloth, either, even if he'd have had to have Eregmegil sit on her to stop her.)

*You'll note that I haven't mentioned anything about lore or wisdom or any of the more traditional Elvish Talents here, just fighting and survival; this is tied to the whole more dangerous, less wise aspect of Mirkwood. They certainly do value wisdom and lore still, and it's not like Legolas is ignorant or an idiot; but there's a reason he forgets the words to old songs halfway through, and Aragorn doesn't. In Mirkwood they're more focused on "this is how you kill a spider before it can eat you" and "how to recognize a web that's fresh enough to be sticky versus one that's old enough to be safe to touch" and "when you feel a creeping darkness like this brushing against your soul, run like fuck" than on the things you learn in Rivendell.

In the evenings they don't gather in their peaceful Hall of Fire and exchange poetry compositions, they get drunk and dance around the fire and sing as loud as they can to scare the shadows away. They're more practical in the sort of lore they value because they have to be. They don't have a magic Ring to protect their borders; in fact, they literally have Ringwraiths and Dark Lords squatting in their own damn forest far too much of the time. Also, honestly, a lot of that lore is the history of other people anyway.

The elves of Mirkwood stayed in their forest because they wanted to; the ones who fled from Doriath and joined them there came precisely because they wanted a "simpler and more natural" elvish way of life. They weren't really involved in a lot of the Elvish Drama going on outside their woods (and when the stakes got high enough that they did get involved, three-quarters of their army died so. yeah. that's not really going to inspire them to go out and socialize more, is it?) most of the time. So if maybe Legolas can't remember the difference between Andreth and Adanel...does it matter, in Mirkwood?

(No, no it doesn't.)

Gimli and the Dwarves: I have a lot fewer Concrete Headcanons and Societal World Building done for the Lonely Mountain than I do for Mirkwood, so this is going to be very much a briefer response, I'm afraid. But I think Gimli was likely equal parts respected and overlooked by his people, because he is a very talented and erudite dwarf of a very fine line of dwarves, so on one hand everybody definitely would respect him and his capabilities...but on the other, I think they do take him for granted a little bit, because of course he would be good at x and y and also z, because he is Gimli son of Glóin of the House of Durin! And he's certainly talented—but also hasn't really done anything of great significance before the Quest, due mainly to the fact that there simply wasn't anything significant to do. So: respected, yes. But not always acknowledged, in a way.

Not given the "he's a kid!" treatment like Legolas is, but just having his competence and skill taken for granted much more often than it gets remarked upon. People expect Gimli son of Glóin of the House of Durin to be awesome (and he is!). Mind you, over-achiever that he is, he goes out and gets himself sent on this massively important Quest and then proves to be so much more awesome than anyone was prepared for...but it's not until he gets back, and the full accounting of his deeds and accolades and honors is recounted, that anyone in the Lonely Mountain really stops to go oh huh.

And I think even then, they probably still continue to take his prowess for granted a little bit, simply because they're so used to him being that way—and so used to expecting him to excel at whatever it is he's asked to do. I think the full breadth of his brilliance probably won't be properly realized and appreciated until some years later, when he's Lord of Aglarond and there's a bit more distance there, and more younger dwarves who grew-up on the stories of Gimli more than just "yeah that's Glóin's kid, he's good hand at [insert-skill-here]" running around to be in proper awe of Gimli of the Nine Walkers, Gimli Lockbearer, Gimli Elf-Friend, Gimli Lord of the Glittering Caves, Gimli Silvertongue, Gimli Friend of Kings...etc etc etc.

I think the older dwarves might actually end up a little blindsided by it, in a way, when it does sort of click in their heads.

Weaknesses & Balance: Legolas has a tendency to run-off half-cocked without thinking things through, trusting his instinct and skill to get him out of whatever he might end up running into (part of this is because of the aforementioned sheltering: yes Mirkwood is a dangerous place, but he's never really been anywhere but Mirkwood before, and the dangers of Mirkwood are dangers that he knows how to deal with so he doesn't need to worry that he's going to end up in over-his-head there). He's also definitely the short-tempered one of the pair (hello, Éomer!) although he's also the more easy-going in a lot of ways simply because there aren't a lot of things that do make his temper spike.

Gimli by contrast is more of a craftsman in his approach to the world, although not so much as to hesitate when faced with a need to act (for instance: "dwarves can't shape stone with our fingernails, but I'll come figure it out anyway!") but that's countered somewhat by his extremely overpowering sense of loyalty: if his idiot friends run into a bad situation, you can bet that Gimli will be right on their heels even if he ought to know better. He's more self-effacing, too, which can be both a good thing and a bad thing, although in his case it's mostly the former. Conversely, he's very prideful, too, although he's such a gentleman about it that you don't really notice ("I would take offense at x, if you weren't too ignorant to know better!" etc) because it's not a rude sort of arrogance; just a supreme, contended confidence both in himself and in his people.

I think Gimli wears his heart on his sleeve a lot more, although Legolas is the one who's more directly open about his own thoughts and feelings whereas Gimli is more inclined to keep things to himself. (Gimli thinks; Legolas blurts.)

Gimli certainly does share his feelings ("what about your companions! what about Legolas and me!"), sometimes trying to cover them with gruffness (see: "I was upset to think you might be dead when I found you underneath that troll, only because I'd gone to so much effort to keep you alive, you see! I definitely wasn't running around the battlefield frantically searching for you out of pure friendship and love, nope!" and "say not so! I'd be bummed if all the elves left because elves are kind of cool you know?") and sometimes dropping some full-on poetry at us (see: "I have looked the last upon that which is fairest!" as well as literally every single word about Aglarond lol) but it tends to pop out in half-involuntary bursts where he just gets so overwhelmed by how much he cares that he can't help himself.

Whereas Legolas is just like "oh yeah let me tell you about the Sea-Longing that's eating my soul from the inside out, nbd" or "sorry, can't translate these songs for you because I Am Sad." He may not walk around actively volunteering his thoughts or opinions unprompted often, but he doesn't seem to make any efforts to maintain a pretense or keep whatever he's feeling private either, when the topic comes up. He'll just walk around Singing What He Feels for the whole world to hear, why not?

And on the aforementioned topics of poetic phrasing and Not Having A Filter, Legolas is definitely The Awkward One when it comes to conversation and diplomacy. Gimli Silvertongue knows how to craft a clever phrase, thank you very much! He is eloquent and gracious and even-tempered and Legolas...well, we're all probably lucky if he's remembered to speak in Westron rather than his own weird forest dialect of Sindarin, tbh. When one of them needs to do the talking for them both, it's almost always going to be Gimli. Legolas is the guy you get when you need to shoot-down a flying Nazgûl; Gimli is the one you call when there's a delicate diplomatic situation to be discussed.

Legolas is also definitely the more easily distracted, and I think Gimli teases him about that a lot—although that's also a bit of a cover, because Gimli knows that Legolas's senses are so much sharper than his. Said distractability is in part a result of the natural flightiness of Wood-elves and in part the result of having those keen senses: he notices more things, so of course he's more likely to be distracted by them. Having said sharp senses also means Legolas can more safely afford to allow himself to be distracted, because he doesn't have to actually pay attention to notice an approaching danger the way Gimli does. (And yes, Gimli gets grumpy about that sometimes, but this is part of that "cover feelings through gruffness" thing: he doesn't want to admit that he worries that Legolas will get himself into trouble by not paying enough attention, and he definitely doesn't want to admit that dwarven senses can't keep up.)

In fact, I think post-Quest one of Gimli's biggest weaknesses is his concern that a mortal dwarf can't keep up with an elf. I think he worries about it a lot more than is merited by reality, actually, and I think that's informed in large part by his knowledge of his own mortality and how much it will eventually hurt Legolas to lose him. He cannot help but dwell on all the things a dwarf can't do that an elf can, because he's so preoccupied by the one big one: an elf can stay, while a dwarf eventually has* to leave...has to die. So while it doesn't exactly shake his sense of confidence in himself, it has him paying a lot more attention to what he can't do than what he can. He doesn't forget his strength or skills; he just ends up weighing them less than they deserve when balanced against what elves can do instead.

*he doesn't, as it turns out! but he doesn't know that yet.

(As much as he comes to dread Gimli's death, none of the rest of that has ever occurred to Legolas. If anyone asked Legolas if he ever got "tired" of being "held-back" by the "limitations of a dwarf" you'd get a very confused look in return and an apologetic explanation about how Different Types Of People Have Different Strengths, Silly...or, depending on how rudely you phrased the question, a very quick and probably painful lesson on what more dangerous and less wise can mean. Legolas doesn't really understand mortal limits—see: "are you sure you don't want to just keep running all night? why not?" and of course the infamous "gee why don't y'all just walk ON the snow? what, like it's hard?" incident—but when somebody says "No Legolas, that's Not Physically Possible" he rolls with it, even being able to later point-out to marchwardens who don't know Mortal Limits as well as he (now) does that his friends need more than a single rope to run on, pls!)

Legolas is right, though, because their different strengths really do balance one another well: Gimli is the solid, thoughtful, reliable rock who makes for both an unwavering foundation on which to build and an eloquent shield upon which the waves of the world will break and leave them both unscathed behind his kind and dauntless walls. Legolas is the swift, sharp knifeblade that darts out mercilessly from the shadows to dispatch a threat and then turns around and returns just as fleetly with armfuls of unquenched joy and laughter to brighten even the blackest, deepest night without any caution or hesitation. Legolas reminds Gimli of how much he delights in curiosity and exploration; Gimli reminds Legolas of the joy and comfort of coming home after wandering afar.

Of course they had to go to Aman together. Gimli could never have resisted following Legolas somewhere so interesting, and Legolas would never have managed such a portentous journey without Gimli there to steady him along the path.

[tobylix-blog]

Gratitude - Aragorn x f!Reader

Content & Warnings: platonic, fluff(ish) Word count: 3.6k Summary: Aragorn returns to become a king and pay back for the kindness of a merchant's daughter, whom he has met during his past visit to Minas Tirith.

You open the store once again. The city is wrecked. The siege was barely three days ago. But the market is the first place to come back to life. As long as it's loud and busy the city lives. Your storage is filled. By some miracle no fire or stone has touched your street. You fix the door open and hang out a long piece of cloth - a sign that the store is working. You turn back to tidy up the shelves behind the counter when someone steps in. Judging by the sound of voices several people come in at once.

"A minute, gentlemen, I'm almost with you," you say over the shoulder, not quite looking at them yet.

The voices are quiet, and for a moment all is silent in the store. Then a loud thud comes. You turn to see a whole bag of coins on the counter as a rich, melodious voice sounds from among the men.

"My friends will need the finest clothes for the coronation and so will you, miss".

Your eyes slowly rise from the counter to the man speaking. His familiarity strikes as a low blow. His appearance changed drastically and yet hardly noticeably. He stands proud and is wearing fine clothing with the White tree of Gondor on it, but the gaze of his gray eyes is as piercing as before.

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The street is busy with people. Morning rush in the market doesn't fade until noon when the sun gets just too high. Through dozens of conversations unfolding between merchants and customers bargaining over the goods, old friends who suddenly met in the middle of chaos and servants figuring out how to get it over with sooner, you hear a distinct male voice saying. "Get lost, outlander! Northerners are out of their mind if they think I will sell them even a piece of shit! Damn rangers."

You recognize the voice. The trader from the armory a few doors down the street. As threatening as he appears, he isn't usually that hostile to customers. From your point of view, two steps above the ground you can only see the dark hair of the man he scolds. Man is saying something back but his voice you can't quite hear. Instead a loud response comes from the inside of the armory.

"Put your silver up your thin arse! Get away from my store before I put a hammer through your head," this time it's the smith himself. You shiver a bit hearing his rough voice.

Stranger only stays in front of the armorer's shop for a moment before moving on. You finally see him fully when he appears from the crowd. Tall and dark-haired he doesn't seem all that different from men of Gondor. His clothes give away the fact that he is indeed a Ranger. You hear more sneers following him from the other side of the street where old men sell leather. Their tannery is actually a few streets down from here, but they still keep a display in the busiest part of the market. Unpleasant fellows. They even got in a quarrel with your father a few times trying to steal his customers. Probably that's why you take a step down from the door and call out to the stranger. There's no other explanation at all.

"Ranger! Come look at our fabrics. Best broadcloth in all Minas Tirith! Vast selection and best prices for you."

The Ranger stops, looks around for a moment, and seeing the wares through the open door makes his way down to look over them. He looks at the materials laid out on the counter over, fingers them, and seems intrigued by the selection. He reaches out to examine a particularly colorful one.

"You have a very good selection here. Are these local, or imported? They look very fine."

You may be only 13 years old, but you know the goods well. "These wools are gondorian. Look at the quality here. There are none like this anywhere in Arnor. I also suggest these linen fabrics delivered from Linhir," you say imitating your father's manner of speech.

The Ranger smiles faintly at seeing you so assured in your speech and so young. He looks over the wools and linens.

"Linhir, eh? Impressive that you get such high quality goods from so far away." He looks back at you with visible curiosity. "Are you the shop owner's daughter?"

"I am," you confirm and after a little pause pull a length of dyed linen from underneath the counter. "This one is rarely to anyone's liking but you seem to be fitting the description of 'not anyone', if I'm not mistaken. Take it. There's enough for a good shirt."

The Ranger smiles more broadly this time, and picks up the length of linen. He examines it thoroughly, and nods slowly.

"You've got a sharp eye, to guess that I'm someone who doesn't blend in, lass," he says with a touch of humor in his voice. "And this is definitely worth the coin. How much are you asking for it?"

You name the price. He rummages his pockets for a moment before cold coins drop heavy in your palm. "There's more than needed. I'll be right back…" you say and rush into the house. For a minute only some shuffling is heard. Then you return to the counter.

"Here," you tell the Ranger. "Change and well… everything."

You pass him a coin of change and a small bundle. The Ranger pockets the change, and then takes a look inside the wrap. After a moment, he smiles faintly again.

"Is it common practice for you to throw in a meal with your sales?" he asks, amused.

You feel blush creeping up your face. "If the tavern owners are half as hospitable as the blacksmiths are, you will need it."

The Ranger laughs at that, and his smile remains afterwards. "You've an excellent point, lass. The hospitality of tavern owners seems to be in constant decline. And I'm not sure about the blacksmiths either."

It's clear in his voice that he's jesting, though he is obviously remembering his earlier confrontation with the blacksmith. You watch him put on the hood of his cloak as he walks away blending in with the crowd. You don't remember much from the rest of that day, except for occasional sidelong glance from the leather men. No wonder you don't. It's been over eight years since then.

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Many thoughts arise at once, clouding your mind like a swarm. Yet they all are silenced by one phrase, that a dwarf says. "What is the meaning of this, Aragorn?" He says something else about how it's not the king's duty to walk from stall to stall, choosing fabrics, but it doesn't matter.

You slowly slide off the stool you were standing on, by some wonder landing on your feet and not gashing your knees against the wooden floor. The words are pounding in your head. Yes, that's right. People surrounding him are.. not exactly people. An elf, a dwarf and two hobbits. Just as the rumor has it. The king has friends of other races and folks.

Your body is stiff when you muster a bow to him. This tall man, Ranger you once met, turned out to be the last living heir to the throne. Some absolutely mad joke of fate that might be.

"It's an honor to see you here, my king. Though I must apologize for the disorder and lack of manner," you manage to utter finally.

He smiles faintly at your bow. "It's good to see you again, lass," he says, raising a hand to forestall any further apologies. "And there's no need to apologize. Your manner is fine, especially given the circumstances."

He leans forward a bit, eyes still sparkling with the faintest hint of mischief. "You seemed surprised just now when you saw me. As if you've seen a ghost walk into your shop."

"It isn't everyday that a faintly familiar ranger pays a visit… and happens to become a king, your majesty," you say. Your eyes dart from one of his companions to another until you settle with the image. From there on your steps are fast and words are even faster as you fall into the usual pattern of work. It helps to set all worries aside.

"Midnight blue and ink black broadcloth for Gimli, son of Gloin," you arrange the fabrics on top of the counter before the dwarf. "Goes well along with both gold and silver."

"Bright wools and soft satins for brave hobbits," you speak pulling out lengths of colored textile and showcasing them to Merry and Pippin.

"Silver silk brought all the way from Lorien for honorable Legolas of Mirkwood," you suggest, unsure yet if smuggled wares could meet the request of an elf.

"Linen from Linhir and hemp from Dale for your majesty," you offer a multitude of colors to the future king.

Aragorn's eyebrows rise in mild surprise at the speed with which you handle the various requests. You clearly know your craft, and well. You pick out the colors and patterns with ease. He runs his hands over the soft fabric of the broadcloth you picked out for Gimli. After a moment, he nods slowly.

"Excellent choice for my friend," he says, glancing at the dwarf. Gimli grins back and nods in agreement.

"It's an honor to meet your expectations, my king," you bow slightly under Aragorn's somewhat disapproving gaze.

You watch as the others look through the selected fabrics and nod in agreement, choosing the best fitting ones. Aragorn himself looks rather delighted by the wares. He picks out a length of hemp cloth, turns it over in his hands a few times, examining the weave and texture, and finally gives a satisfied sigh.

"I'm still a Ranger at heart," he says, glancing up at you. "My taste in clothes runs toward the simple and practical. This hemp is just the thing."

He sets the hemp down on the counter and smiles back at you. "I do wonder, though… which one will you choose for yourself?"

Your heart skips a bit at the question. "For myself?" The words leave your mouth before you get a chance to think them through.

Aragorn smiles at your surprised expression. "Of course," he says. "I doubt I need to tell you that the coronation will be a grand event. There will be people, nobles especially, with all the fashion sense and more coin than sense. You will be the only one in something plain and unadorned if you stay away from the occasion."

He looks down at your clothes. You're well-dressed for a trader, a clear sign that the store's profits stay high despite any turmoil, but it's clear that your dress is ordinary, suitable for an ordinary day. "You deserve something better than that."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand, your majesty…" you mutter. "I might be able to watch the coronation from among the crowd, or standing on the parapet if the luck is good. But my dress makes no difference in that luck."

Aragorn lets out a small huff and shakes his head. "No, lass. You have seen me before, and you weren't among those sneering and showering me with cheap mockery. As far as I'm concerned, you're entitled to a seat of honor at the ceremony. And I'm not letting you take that seat while you've still got your old clothes on."

You look at him in disbelief. This idea seems absolutely mad. You have probably lost your mind during the siege, and now you're imagining the whole thing. That the King, Aragorn, would be in your store personally inviting you as a guest to his coronation and willing to pay for your dress because of some decade old encounter. You shake your head and blink a few times trying to get back to reality. And yet he is still here. The same smirk on his lips as he leans on the counter.

Aragorn's smirk grows a bit wider when he sees your reaction. "Don't doubt your eyes, lass," a hint of humor is present in his voice. "I am standing here. And I am inviting you."

He looks you up and down, taking in your current clothes and appearance. "And if you don't pick something suitable, I'll do it myself, and you won't like it."

At that you only shake your head yet again and turn around facing the many shelves behind the counter. You know the wares like the back of your hand and don't waste much time picking out the more delicate linens and a length of silk from southern Gondor in light blue hues. Aragorn only looks them over once and gives a nod of approval.

"An excellent choice," he says, looking up at you with a smile. "You have an eye for color."

You nod slightly, unable to speak anymore. It all seems so impossible and unreal. Aragorn pays for everything he and his friend choose as well as for the lengths for your own dress; he also leaves behind enough to pay any seamstress in the city for the gown. It's only a few minutes before you're left behind. Alone and bewildered by the meeting.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the next couple of days you pay a visit to a seamstress that once had sewn your mother's wedding dress. She takes the order readily and in the next morning a boy brings back a bundle with the finished gown. It's light and flowing like water in the river. You wait patiently until the day of coronation to finally put it on.

The dress seems to be enchanted somehow. You don't feel like a merchant's daughter walking through the crowd at court, being accompanied by a guard. You don't feel alien standing in the front rows among noble ladies and just a few steps away from lady Eowyn — niece to the late king of Rohan — and lord Faramir — son of the last steward of Gondor. You feel as if this could be some other life prepared for you by fate. And still you can't quite place why the king would step out of his way and do something of that sort for you.

Throughout the whole ceremony you can't tear your eyes away from his silhouette. You recognize the familiar color and texture of fabric, hugging his neck from beneath the armor. You watch him walk regally and at the same time very openly among the guests. Many are his friends. The ceremony ends with his grateful bow to the hobbits as the whole court follows his example. And with that begins the feast.

The great hall of the palace is decorated and festive. The long tables are filled with food and drinks. People flood the hall, taking their places. You watch the whole Fellowship find themselves close to the king. And your own place is somehow not that far away as well. Just among the members of the few remaining noble families of Gondor, blending you in with them.

As the feast progresses more wine bottles are opened. So far you managed to avoid the many cups of wine being offered by neighbors at the table, but it was getting noticeably harder. Some surely mistook you for a daughter of some less well-known, but clearly wealthy family, that would make for a good bride for one of their many sons. Before the direct confrontation becomes unavoidable you get away from the table and into a side gallery. Unsure as to where you should be going, you escape onto a balcony. It's empty and the scenery is beautiful. Fresh air is soothing against the heated skin.

You lean onto the parapet of the balcony, taking this chance to immerse in peace of the early night. Judging by the music, the dancing must have started, and that sounds like another perfect way to excuse yourself from the table later. But before you even decide to head back, you hear the sound of the balcony door slightly creaking at being opened and slow footsteps approaching.

You turn around and recognize Aragorn, who must have found a great time to sneak out of the spotlight relatively unnoticed. Back in the hall he looked nothing like the Ranger you once met, but here in the faint moonlight and subtle orange hues casted from the windows you can spot more similarities than before.

"Good evening, your majesty," you greet him politely with an appropriate bow.

Aragorn smiles faintly at your bow. He steps forward and leans on the parapet next to you. After a moment, he speaks, his voice more casual than it was earlier.

"You know, you don't need to call me by my title. Especially not while we're alone like this."

The suggestion catches you off guard. "I don't quite understand what should I call you then… or why that would even be possible," you confess your doubts.

He looks over at you and raises his eyebrows. "Why would it be possible to call me by my given name? Because I'm allowing it. For the time being, at least."

Aragorn turns to you completely so that he's leaning against the parapet, with one arm resting on it. The simple action bringing color to your face as you get to see him fully. "You met me before I was king. As far as I'm concerned, that means you still have the right to call me something other than 'your majesty' when we are alone, like this."

"There're many people in this city and beyond its walls who have met you before, Aragorn," his name feels almost alien on your tongue. "But I doubt that they all receive the same… treatment."

The king lets out a small huff and smiles faintly. "No, I suppose not. I doubt I'd be able to recognize any of them, for starters. You, however, were more memorable…"

He gives you a brief once-over. "You were more memorable," he repeats, his gaze fixed on you for a moment before he looks away and back out at the city. "It could be a mere coincidence, but I trust my fate and its signs. My visit to Minas Tirith eight years ago was the last one. It was the time when I attempted to make the final decision of whether to follow the path of an heir or give up. The way I was greeted with dozens of insults and many more curses in the streets of the White city was the sign that I assumed to be an advice against pursuing my right for the throne. You showed up before my eyes right when I was ready to give up. So young and eager, so welcoming and confident. I couldn't tear my eyes away from you. You seemed as the very essence of the new Era. You singlehandedly charged something within me with this new will to fight for such future."

You stand there too stunned to say a single word, your mind racing with thoughts. You would never expect to hear something of the kind. The way you acted during that first encounter was a surprise to you as well, as if… well, as if fate pushed you to be more hospitable and welcoming to this stranger.

The more you keep thinking about his words the brighter the scarlet tone on your cheeks turns. You try to get rid of the definitely wrong ideas you got, but they just keep reappearing in your troubled mind.

Aragorn glances over at you and takes notice of the shade of red creeping over your cheeks. He can't help but give a small chuckle. "And now you're blushing again. I wonder why?"

He reaches forward and carefully takes your chin, his hand tilting your face up towards him slightly. "What could possibly be going through that mind of yours, I wonder…"

Your eyes dart to his with righteous indignation. "You know what!" you exclaim rather impolitely, but continue in a much calmer, quieter manner. "How could you be speaking of fate so easily…"

Aragorn lifts an eyebrow in amusement as your voice rises then falls off again. His grip loosens a little, his fingers now resting on your cheek, still turning your face to look up at him.

"You don't like the concept of fate?" he asks, with a faint smile. "You don't think the right people can meet at the right time?"

"No, that's not what I meant. However, you sound so sure of the way you interpret those signs of fate. As humans we are only able to follow the path prepared for us, not knowing what lays ahead, aren't we?" you say trying to explain your mind's confusion. "But you seem to understand more, and that seems impossible to me. Especially, when," you pause for a moment searching for the right words. "When I somehow get involved in your fate."

He looks at your expression, studying your eyes and face, his fingers still touching your skin as he speaks.

"You are involved in my fate," Aragorn says, his voice low and serious. "You have been for a long time, whether you knew it or not. But I knew it. Not long after we first met. I knew there was a greater purpose to that encounter, even if you did not. And I made sure to be grateful for your timely appearance. Though I must admit there might be more than just gratefulness…"

He removes his hand from your face and makes a few steps towards the door back into the hall before turning around and facing you once more. "Dancing will continue for another hour, but it would be a shame if the king doesn't dance even once because a beautiful lady decided to spend her whole night on a balcony, right?"

Your gaze glides over his hopeful gray eyes and faint smile until it finally lands on his outstretched hand.

[practically-an-x-man]

Being COMPLETELY unpredictable here for the celebrity ask game-

Viggo Mortensen vs. Liv Tyler?

Ooooh man, that's definitely an unpredictable matchup!

Let's see... I do think Viggo as Aragorn was damn fine (like most LOTR fans lol), but as a whole I think I'd probably go more for Liv Tyler

[samueldays]

A friend recommended Deadworld Isekai to me the other day. To damn it with faint praise: it was good enough that I finished reading all three volumes, and the author has a solid grasp of spelling and grammar.

It has the usual LitRPG problem of re-reifying abstractions to produce weird round-trip-translation nonsense that has become the heart of the LitRPG genre, one of the most finely polished turds in the world.

The thing that stood out to me as the most 'fixable' problem, though, was the fake suspense and the fake threat. Oh no, the protagonist is in over his head, however will he survive? Oh no, the protagonist is on the verge of death, what asspull deus ex machina is going to save him now?

The cast is too small and the premise too specialized for there to be a serious threat of replacing Matt as protagonist, and once you've introduced CRPG Healing you can't threaten injury short of death, so I roll my eyes at every new danger, confident he'll be perfectly fine (and powered up!) a chapter later.

I want to contrast this with Lord of the Rings, which looms over the wider fantasy genre so much that it gets taken for granted, and I sometimes see people thinking of it in terms of the popular cliches that were copied the most. But I feel it's pretty good about threatening Frodo, and that's less copied.

At some point in The Return of the King, the reader has seen Gandalf die and Boromir die and the Fellowship broken, and then parts of the Fellowship met new cool people, and then those cool people started dying too, with Theoden bravely dead on the battlefield and Denethor horribly dead in attempted murder-suicide.

It starts to look like Frodo might die, IMO, it's genuinely plausible that Tolkien will kill off another major character at this point. The deaths are mounting, Frodo's psyche is fraying, and the savvy reader sees Sam is right there to take over if Frodo dies. The main protagonist will probably still survive because that's how stories go, but it's not all that obvious.

It looks like death when Frodo is stung by giant spider and carried off by orcs, but it's much less of a deus ex machina to hear that the spider was using paralytic venom to save a meal for later. Frodo isn't getting a sudden powerup or new ally, it's just a spider being a spider.

With no magic healing, several magic items lost, and Frodo increasingly traumatized, the quest gets closer to Mount Doom. Here Frodo puts on the Ring, which is not how these stories normally go! No heroic last-minute surge of willpower. Frodo is sick and tired, looks at the Ring of Power, and decides that in fact, he would like Power for himself.

Gollum bites Frodo's finger off, falls into the lava, and the Ring is destroyed nonetheless. Tolkien again makes it look like Frodo might really die in the resulting volcanic eruption, now that his importance to the story is over and the Ring is destroyed and the rest looks like cleanup from the army marching on Mordor in the other plot thread.

But the book isn't over yet. If you're reading Lord of the Rings in print, you can feel there's another hundred pages left to go at this point. Frodo is saved, Aragorn is crowned, our heroes are victorious, there's celebrations and marriages and vacations and songs.

Then Frodo heads home at long, long last and finds Saruman got there first and started polluting the Shire.

The last surprise is that Saruman dies really fast. The rest of the book is appendices. What, you expected a hundred pages of Frodo fighting the Shire Wizard War? Nope, we're done here! Also Frodo has to leave, Sam takes over at the very last. It's a good series of plot twists, without being a plot swerve.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

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

Holy Foreshadowing, Batman! Gandalf is SUPER psyched to get his ass under a mountain, but literally Gimli and Aragorn are like, "Nah, bro, we are worried about YOU SPECIFICALLY if we do that." And this is after Mom and Dad fought about going up Caradhras and after literally everyone is like, "We are getting super bad vibes from Moria."

But they can't go over the mountains, they can't go around the mountains, and the Gap of Rohan is too close to Isengard, so fuck it, we ball in Moria, I guess. Let's talk chapter 4, "A Journey in the Dark."

Ok, so this is a relatively long chapter (30-odd pages by my math), but wow is it mostly vibes. We start off very defeated by the anti-wizard-and-elf mountain, which makes sense because if you lose the ring bearer to exposure in the first month of travel, you're going down in history as the dingus who lost the last great conflict with Sauron. Again, Boromir is DEEPLY underappreciated as the reason our hobbits survived Caradhras.

After a few pages of back-and-forthing about where to go next, Gandalf is over here pushing Moria HARD, and literally everyone is like, "This does not pass the vibe check, wizard boy." Although Gimli is like, "I could find out what happened to Balin" and Aragorn literally says THIS:

"You followed my lead almost to disaster in the snow and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now..."

Because apparently Fellowship leadership operates on phlebotomist rules. If you miss the vein, you let someone else take a shot.

Ultimately, the decision is made because there are goddamn WARGS after the group, and even Boromir accedes that wolves literally on your tail are worse than hypothetical wolves up the road, so we stop arguing about it and hunker down. This gives us time to have a nice little moment with Sam and Pippin though. Poor Pippin is over here like, "I wish I had taken Elrond's advice [...], I am no good after all. [...] I don't remember ever feeling so wretched, " but Sam is coming in clutch with "Honestly same, but Gandalf isn't going to let us get eaten by wolves." Which like...yeah, I accept that, and it's way more comforting than a generic "there, there." I also appreciate that Sam admits he's scared too. It's like how hearing, "Oh god, I haven't started that either" is so comforting for stressed-out students.

What neither I nor the fellowship love though, is the wolves literally sniffing around their campfire that night. There are literally glowing eyes in the dark, howls on the wind, and a goddamn warg silhouette in the gap between stones. And an arrow through the throat of one warg buys the group some measure of peace until the moon sets. Once the moon sets though, we get a pre-dawn warg attack:

In the leaping light as the fresh wood blazed up, Frodo saw many grey shapes spring over the ring of stones. More and more followed. Through the throat of one huge leader Aragorn passed his sword with a thrust; with a great sweep Boromir hewed the head off another. Gimli stood with his stout legs apart, wielding his dwarf-axe. The bow of Legolas was singing.

The battle scenes in these books read SUPER Beowulf, but are somehow briefer. Tolkien was super not here for contemporary battle scene writing; it's very much painting with watercolors. He gives you the odd detail or two and you pretty much get to fill in the rest yourself. Which is fine, and holy cow can I see where that would inspire Robert Jordan's manner of naming sword forms rather than describing an actual duel (which is not shade, I think Jordan does that really damn well and to excellent effect). But then we get Gandalf doing wizardy things in a really...unusual way?

In the wavering firelight Gandalf seemed suddenly to grow: he rose up, a great menacing shape like the monument of some ancient king of stone set upon a hill. Stooping like a cloud, he lifted a burning branch and strode to meet the wolves. They gave back before him. High in the air he tossed the burning brand, It flared with a sudden white radiance like lightning; and his voice rolled like thunder.

This hearkens back both to "Gandalf the fireworks wizard" who we meet in the Shire, but also to the little moment in Bag End where Gandalf goes wizard on Bilbo to snap him out of his Ring moment. It also is not like...wildly dissimilar to how they teach you to scare bears off in the wild: Get big and loud and look intimidating. We were not supposed to then set a goddamn forest fire--that's a little scorched earth for Alaskan survival techniques--but it was one of those moments where the familiar was made pointedly exotic, and I actually thought it was quiet effective. You take the foundation of something real and then you add a bit of wizard to it. Then things feel sufficiently grounded, but also with just that extra bit of wizard to heighten EVERYTHING. The subtlety (and yeah, I know, forest fire and lightning isn't subtle, but the way this is written is and how it functions is) is really quite impressive. That said...Gandalf, honey. Maybe not with the ecological disasters???

At the very least, the wargs were polite enough to evaporate so they didn't have to deal with any of the bodies when the sun came up.

After that, we haul ass off to the Doors of Durin. It's not a good journey though. Right from the start, the Sirannon wasn't where it was supposed to be, the landscape is lifeless and desolate, and when we do finally find the stream, it's a freaking trickle. If the IDEA of Moria didn't pass the vibe check, then the landscape on the trip in is a parade of red flags. And again, Boromir is SUPER ON POINT with not wanting to get caught between a stone wall and a bunch of wolves. This place is all quiet unease and red flags. Even the freaking WATER is gloomy and unwholesome-looking.

And then we get a WEIRD FLEX moment for Gandalf:

"I am sorry," said Gandalf. "Poor Bill has been a useful companion, and it goes to my heart to turn him adrift now. I would have travelled lighter and brought no animal, least of all this one that Sam is fond of, if I had had my way. I feared all along that we should be obliged to take this road."

Like, I believe he's genuinely sorry to have to hurt Sam and to turn the goodest pony loose. But it's the "if I had had my way" and the last sentence where I'm just like...Gandalf. Sir. Why are you bitching to Frodo that you have to share leadership on this mission? And why are you flexing an "I told you so" on Frodo instead of, IDK, Aragorn??? Is it because Aragorn would kick your wizened wizard ass for it? Because I'd watch that.

Also, again with Gandalf being weirdly open with, aware of, and as solicitous as possible to Sam. He has zero problems kicking Pippin when he's down (as we'll see in a bit in this very goddamn chapter), but he's always been very straight yet compassionate with Sam in a way that doesn't even match how this wizard treats Frodo. Like, we are almost getting to a point where I need to go see what the Tolkien scholars have written about the Sam-Gandalf relationship, because it's getting NOTICEABLY unique and it has gotten a fair number of little moments at this point. Like...what is this relationship and why is this the dynamic? I demand to know.

I also just want to take a second to highlight something DEEPLY inequitable as they round the lake to the door:

When they came to the northernmost corner of the lake they found a narrow creek that barred their way. It was green and stagnant, thrust out like a slimy arm toward the enclosing hills. Gimli strode forward undeterred, and found that the water was shallow, no more than ankle-deep at the edge. Behind him they walked in fie, threading their way with care, for under the weedy pools were sliding and greasy stones, and footing was treacherous. Frodo shuddered with disgust at the touch of the dark unclean water on his feet.

THE HOBBITS DONT WEAR SHOES. Everyone else has boots to act as something of a barrier to this gross-ass water, but the hobbits have to tromp through it BAREFOOT. Did NOBODY think, "oh shit, this will be super unpleasant for the hobbits, maybe we should yeet or carry them?" Apparently not, and honestly now they're just gonna have gross feet as they tromp through Moria and I hate that for their poor hobbit toesies. And as a WWI soldier, TOLKIEN SHOULD KNOW THE DANGERS OF WET, MUCKETY FEET.

But then we actually get to the doors--finally--and Sam has a deeply understandable moment when Gandalf tells him they have to cut Bill loose, and Gimli and Legolas try to start world war 2.5 over Elf-Dwarf relations before Gandalf tells them to knock that shit off.

Everyone is super over everything at this point, and I cannot blame them.

But where Gandalf has zero time for Legolas and Gimli sniping at each other, he takes the time to speak over Bill and give him his best shot at getting home safely. Again, I do not get the relationship between Gandalf and Sam. I appreciate the care for the pony, but whatever the Gandalf-Sam thing is, it's more than just trolling Pippin or ensuring that Frodo makes it to the volcano or ignoring Merry's existence for the most part.

Literally, Pippin gets a "Knock on the door with your head" from Gandalf, and once the damn thing IS open, Merry just gets a casual, "Merry, of all people, was on the right track" before Gandalf pulls ANOTHER weird flex and says "Too simple for a learned lore-master in these suspicious days." Like...ok, sure, Gandalf. You were TOO SMART to get the riddle.

But we get the doors open just in time for Frodo to get nabbed by a metric frick-ton of tentacles. Sam yoinks him back and they haul ass through the door, which get slammed behind them and the tentacle monster bolts it behind them with boulders and trees. After which we get THIS little gem from Gandalf:

"I fear from the sounds that boulders have been piled up and trees uprooted and thrown across the gate. I am sorry; for the trees were beautiful, and had stood so long."

SIR. I was THERE when you burned a flaming doughnut into the land to get rid of the wargs. You are a walking ecological disaster and do not get to high ground the tentacle monster ripping up a few trees by the roots. You probably burned more LAST NIGHT. I know it's unfair to expect characters to know the genre of the book they're in, and by extension its equally unfair to expect them to know the themes of the book they're in. That said though...I WATCHED YOU START A FOREST FIRE, GANDALF. This is not the moment to suddenly discover ecocriticism.

At any rate, we have FINALLY made it inside Moria. Boromir is (rightfully) quite pissed off an apprehensive about this, but Gandalf is like, "Gimli and I will lead the way!" before they manage to get the party fucking lost and Sam is bitching about not having rope. Because oh my god there is SO MUCH atmospheric walking in this book. And most of the time the atmosphere is "vaguely evil with a healthy helping of depression." Which...yeah, that's what we get here.

So it makes sense that Gandalf is SUPER FUCKING OVER IT when Pippin yeets a rock down a well and they hear hammer blows from the deeps. And it makes even more sense when Gandalf realizes he's apparently also experiencing withdrawal symptoms because he hasn't had a smoke since before they started climbing Caradhras. So he non-apologizes to Pippin, lights up, and everything looks better in the morning...sort of. At least the wizard is less grumpy, and he has now firmly established himself as that member of the party who needs to be properly self-cared or he will make it EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEM. Seriously, what a goddamn diva.

But getting himself a wee bit of a smoke made it so he could make a decision and they headed up to where the air smelled good. So fair enough.

Then we have EVEN MORE atmospheric walking, and Sam picks up some dwarven lore via Gimli singing a song all about Moria and Khazad-dum, and I swear, the hobbit is going to be a lore-master himself by the end of this journey.

This chapter is also where we get a bit of a mithril infodump, which is pretty cool just in general. We also get Frodo having delayed sticker-shock because he's just casually waltzing around with a whole-ass shirt of mithril on. That's also a nice little reminder to all the readers that hey, remember that Frodo has this thing? I betcha it's going to be important soon.

We end the chapter on the SUPER downer note of finding Balin's tomb, and the dwarves now have their (not unexpected) answer to what happened to the party from thirty-odd years ago. Which is really sad, frankly.

That's also about where we're going to leave this chapter, because I am...exhausted by all the atmospheric walking. We will pick up next time with a relatively short chapter, and hopefully there is more to it than infodumping and atmospheric walking.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @tildeathiwillwrite!

OC Questionaire

My questions:

1. If you had to fight a member of the Fellowship of the Ring (Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Boromir, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli), who would you pick? (assume they know what the Fellowship is)

2. Would you win?

3. If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only bring one object, what could it be?

I'll answer for the Honor's Outcasts crew :)

.

1. If you had to fight a member of the Fellowship of the Ring (Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Boromir, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli), who would you pick? (assume they know what the Fellowship is)

2. Would you win?

(I'll put the responses for these together)

Izjik: "Go big or go home! Aragorn, you're ass is mine!"

(Yeah, no. Izjik is good, but she's not Aragorn son of Arathorn good. She's getting her shit kicked in)

Sepo: "Hm, maybe that fucker with the shield? I think I could sneak up behind him and put a dagger in his throat."

(I'd give him 50/50 odds against Boromir, depending on if he can actually sneak up on him)

Twenari: "Ugh, I'm no good against ranged attacks, so I'll take the dwarf. So long as I can keep him at bay, I should be fine. He looks tough, but maybe not seven fire blasts to the face tough."

(And she's right. If Twenari can keep Gimli at a long range, she should be fine)

Djek: "Gods beyond, I gotta fight these guys? Fuck it, I'll take the short, squirrley looking one."

(Djek could probably beat Pippin. They'd both take it easy, though, and go smoke a bowl afterwards)

3. If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only bring one object, what could it be?

Izjik: "My washava. It's a rope. It's a weapon. I can use it as a snare if need be. I'd have never survived the Trench without it!"

Sepo: "I'm a siren, I'm not getting stranded on any damn island. ...But if somehow, magically, I was trapped there, I'd take my dagger. It's the first step in making most of the things I'll need to survive."

Twenari: "Firewood. I can light it with my magic, and then I'll have a signal flare."

Djek: "A whole lotta alchemist-grade kishra. I ain't surviving a godsdamned desert island - look at me - so I might always make those last days fun!"

.

I'll tag @faeriecinna @mk-writes-stuff @scribble-dee-vee @thebejeweledwatercat and anyone else who wants in :)

Your questions:

If you could learn any skill instantaneously, what would you choose?

What do you think is your problem?

What is your first memory?

[sailorotter]

Day 4 : "Dodge". Who knew it was so damn difficult to find a good reference for that kind of fight? Must not be heroic enough for people posting pictures, because I had to pause a video after running it at quarter speed to get something more or less workable... At first I was hoping for Frodo at Weathertop or Aragorn during the Black Gate battle, but this will have to do. Yes, I'm holding the Mûmakil in reserve for later in the month, otherwise there was some fine dodging in that scene too!

@honmyoseagull

[writingwintermoon]

Fluff Alphabet

(I lost the post where this came from originally, if this looks familiar let me know)

Here's another writing exercise... a fluffy prompt alphabet featuring Boba and Fennec.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

When Boba and Fennec first teamed up (before they got his armor back, before they realized their feelings), they would spar and do target practice together, and scheme and discuss plans; they still do that, but with more of an understanding. They're always working on Gotra stuff; they even talk in bed about how to better the Gotra (like, chatting while they're going to bed/getting up, not during anything spicy). They're both acts-of-service focused.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

The first time I watched TBoBF episode 4, I frankly had to rewind to be sure that he didn't say "brains, brawn, and beauty". I'm glad he didn't though, he would want to give Fennec space and would never wish to make her stay if she didn't want to.

Fennec loves how weird and intense Boba is, how driven he is to be a kinder and more noble man than the person she surely met at least once in the past. She is charmed by his hardheadedness--it's always arresting to find someone who makes you go, damn, they're worse than me. She is appreciative that he saved her life, but the moment they flew away from the Palace in the ship, she knew that she could totally rely on him, that they shared something even deeper than a life debt. She loves how he sighs resignedly at her pushing his buttons (literally and metaphorically), she loves knowing that he absolutely has her back too, and she saw the swagger he had the moment he put his armor back on: she had to calm herself. She definitely loves his old self-confidence, but is rather charmed by his 'gracious Daimyo' self... and especially the tender side that only she gets to see. She is honored to be treated so gently and reverently.

Boba looooooves tough ladies... I'd consider his conversation with Koska to be Mandalorian Flirting, and of course in RotJ he gives Boushh the ol' "wassup girl" nod after the thermal detonator ultimatum. I bet that he's had a crush on Fennec for years because she's an ace shot, a keen businesswoman, AND fine as hell. He loves how sensible, practical, but slightly hedonistic she is, he loves her smirk smile... he had to catch his breath the first time he saw her with her hair down. He loves how completely on board she is with his ridiculous plans, he loves trusting her to rein him in.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Fennec acts sensible, and grounds Boba with her demands that he take care of himself--to eat, to not climb inside a dead monster, etc... she'll set a hand on his and remind him that she isn't going to leave.

Boba is less good with his words when Fennec is upset, but is steadfast and tries to do what she does for him. He'll save her every time, until he himself is dead.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Boba probably does dream of officially making Fennec his Queen, getting a second throne and all... maybe formally adopting a couple of the Mods. Really setting himself up to love and be beloved by his town and family... like, I'm thinking some end of RotJ happy family shit, some end of Return of the King, Arwen and Aragorn presiding over a new age shit!

I really don't know if Fennec would even let herself consider something so normal, so safe... but whatever her dreams are, Boba is at her side. She has finally met someone who feels right.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

They are both hardheaded independents, and can be set in their ways, but Boba relies on Fennec's wisdom more than he may even admit to her. He will do anything that she asks, and knows that she trusts him too.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It would take a lot for either one of them to actually feel betrayed. If there were some kind of silly misunderstanding I feel like there would be the silent treatment, the businesslike cold shoulder, but hopefully amended quickly, ideally in Shakespearean comedic fashion.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Fennec takes a minute to believe that Boba didn't just save her life so that she'd be indebted to him; but once she understands that, she takes it to heart to show him loyalty almost because of that lack of expectation. When Boba finally understands that she's staying by his side not out of obligation but out of love, he can't help but cry with joy.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

I think Fennec probably knows just about everything about Boba's past, maybe even more than he does. He isn't exactly forthcoming, but is ready to explain as things come up. We as the audience still don't really know shit about Fennec, so I think Boba cherishes every detail he learns. As far as Gotra business is concerned, they are 100% on the same page, and can communicate not quite telepathically, but certainly by eyebrow.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Both--obviously Boba saved Fennec's life, but that kind of seems to have been the will of the Force that he was close by enough to have seen the flash charges. Fennec also helped Boba remember who he is.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Boba can be considered to have flirted with Koska, and Cara calls him by just his first name, so I'm thinking that he may have picked up a thing or two from Lando and can be smooth when he tries. Maybe this method didn't work on Fennec, and she prefers his intense poetic banished prince horse girl bullshit. She thinks him flirting is funny, like a party trick. She loves when he flirts with other tough ladies--and they both know that he does so for business reasons, and that they are one another's main priority.

Fennec sometimes will be overcome with a need for attention, and sit on Boba's lap in the cockpit or drag him up to her bedchamber away from prying eyes. She knows she has to tell him with words, but she wants him to know that she needs him as much as he needs her.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

I can't decide when their first kiss happens... there are so many delicious options: later that night after Boba asks Fennec to become the first member of his gotra, maybe after they see Din speed away from Cobb with Boba's armor, sometime before Tython, on Tython while Din is going through the RC's remains, on Morak anytime, in the cockpit anytime, after letting Din taunt Gideon, before storming the Arcataz, after storming the Arcataz, on the throne of the Palace after their great success... maybe even after solidifying Boba's rule, and Fennec feels safe in allowing herself that affection, allowing their relationship to be seen by others as something more than just business.

Whenever it happens, it's a romantic and meaningful time. They both finally feel safe to express their feelings.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It would feel natural--they realize they have been in love for a long time, and for once had to put words to it... it would either be in an insanely dire situation (think Anakin and Padmé on Geonosis, or Leia and Han in the carbon freezing chamber), or it would be at the most ordinary time, like at dinner or something. <3

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Author's Note: I literally said "holy shit" out loud to myself watching TBoBF Ep 4; his business proposal sounded so much like a marriage proposal that I almost expected Fennec to say something about it. (I recommend this fic: "The Question" by @sharkariaria, https://archiveofourown.org/works/37272115 for exploring that idea!)

I like the sort of "Emma" conclusion where they both realize that the other is the only one, and if it happens in canon that's kind of how I see it going down... I would love for some Shakespearean or Austenic comedic situation, but surely Boba would try to be extremely romantical and poetic... Fennec would roll her eyes, smiling, and say "shut up and kiss me". Their marriage would be like their Daimyoship, egalitarian and unconventional.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

As far as I can tell, just the thrill of trusting someone with their first name is plenty... but I really want to hear Boba call Fennec "my Queen", maybe even just in private.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

They both try not to be obvious, but everybody else figures it out even before they do.

Fennec's love language is acts of service... making sure Boba is respected as Daimyo, making sure he eats, making sure he's sleeping well...

Boba has written a shitload of poetry for/about Fennec which may or may not ever get to see the light of day, he's the epitome of 'if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more'. He also strikes me as the gift-giving type.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Fennec is very sensitive about the concept of the Daimyo's dignity and doesn't want to show the people that Boba has any weaknesses (i.e. his feelings for her). Boba understands this, but around friends isn't shy to let his smile linger on hers. They are both not shy at all about bragging about their business partnership, but the Venn diagram of what is business and what is their lives is a circle here.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

They are both very practical, and they have both been through so much... Boba absolutely wants to have something worth protecting in his life.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Fennec tries to maintain the facade of being "just the Daimyo's guard", but when they're alone, Boba is unabashedly romantic with her. Fennec tries to play it cool but she secretly loves being the subject of his courtly love.

Even cliché stuff seems creative with these two hardened hunters... Give me banter. Give me a hand touch with eye contact. GIVE ME THE ANIDALA MEADOW PICNIC SCENE BUT WITH BOBA AND FENNEC AND THE RANCOR.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

They believe in one another 100%. Fennec thought Boba's plan sounded crazy, but only he could think of such an idea, so she was on board. He knew that her intimidating presence alone would help his cause, and it does.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

There's no such thing as "everyday life" in the Outer Rim, so they find a lot of solace in the ordinary with one another...

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

They are both very private, mysterious people, but they definitely understand one another. They have both grown a lot as people since teaming up, and again I am assuming that they've met at least once in the past, so they both understand that the other has also grown. Fennec is really proud of Boba's turn.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

It started out as a business partnership--a very important and personal business partnership, mind you--but by the end of TBoBF, the business partnership is the life partnership is the love partnership is their lives.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Even though the Daimyo has many comfy robes at his disposal, Boba gives Fennec Jango's old blue shirt to wear as pajamas... he wanted to give her something personal of his to show the depth of his affection, and he likes feeling the fabric as they cuddle.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In private, they are both very affectionate. Boba is a huge cuddler. Fennec loves feeling him relax when she's the big spoon, knowing that he feels safe with her. She also loves for Boba to run his fingers through her hair.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

They both know about hardship, and surely they could cope if it were for business reasons, but they really haven't been apart other than during missions since they have teamed up. They're kind of inseparable. Boba certainly has had enough of being alone... and Fennec is probably worried he'll get into trouble without her.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Absolutely, they both are. They've both put their lives in the others' hands, and Boba brought her back to life on the off chance she'd agree to help get his ship back! The both depend on one another, and would do anything for the other.

[frayedcobweb]

One of my fondest memories is going to the Lord of the Rings exhibition at Te Papa museum in Wellington NZ. It was one of the most magical things I've ever experienced.

I remember gazing up at Treebeard's head, kind amber eyes and a beard of moss. I remember Arwyn's dress that she wears to Aragorn's coronation, shimmering leaf green with a thousand sparking gems.

And I dream of Boromir, lying in the boat holding his sword, eyes closed, a son of Gondor at peace. The model was so lifelike it had the veins visible beneath the skin of his hands... the fine hairs on his wrist... the worn lines of living around his eyes and mouth... dust on his armour...

Damn lol and once again I'm tearing up over the sheer awesomeness of the LotR trilogy.

I know that Peter’s Jackson Lord of the Rings trilogy technically has flaws but also….it doesn’t. It’s perfect.

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

Hi Пчёлка!

It's literally fine, I have an ask in my inbox from November that I haven't touched since last year (so weird it's 2023 now. I hope you have an amazing new year that is uneventful and you're loved ones stay in good health <- coined phrase over the last couple day lol)

AS FOR THE LITTLE BIT OF SNOW I TALKED ABOUT it kept on coming then there was like a foot and a half, which wouldn't be too bad except it stayed like -23 for like a week and a half (arctic outflows my beloathed) and never melted the entire time.

tbh the weather's not bad anymore, it's still pretty cold but all the snow is gone and it was sunny today!!! I made pancakes an moved my plants to the big window so they could get sun to celebrate.

once again risking it all for some whipped cream.

tuque is such a fun word to say! it also has a bunch of different spellings.

The new job is going pretty good! I've discovered that kid's under the age of 7 think my fake and very bad for that matter Russian accent is hysterical, which I think is hysterical.

December was actually pretty good! An stubbornly optimistic is definitely the vibe for this year. I don't really have any new years resolutions except for maybe treating myself as kindly as I hope this year teats me. How about you?

Alas, Priory is still sitting rejected on my bookshelf. I got a really cool copy of The Hobbit at my favourite book store so now i'm doing a re-read 😂 While I was there I met the new bookstore cat and not to be dramatic but I'd die and kill for her.

I hope you're staying warm! I am so glad that weather passed and I hope it leaves you alone soon!

Gender fuckery my beloved <3

Literally so glad we don't live in a world where J*ke G*llenhall is Frodo. I do love Nicolas Cage but Viggo Mortensen is literally the perfect Aragorn.

alhdgskhf my family makes the best garlic powder and it goes on everything.

SPEAKING of Ronanceifying a song, I am about to send you the most rambly au idea.

I would literally kill for Paramore tickets. The News has been stuck in my head since it came out. It's totally storm cloud grey and reminds be of.. storms. Devil Is A Woman is totally dark magenta and you know that feeling when you're walking around and feel kinda like a villain in a movie, but in a good way? yeah that. (having thoughts of starting a side blog where people can send in music and I can do the colour/vibes thing. thought?)

oh it was 3 am for you too?

Quite possibly the last time I sign off like this, not because i'm going anywhere but because I think i'll ✨reveal my identity✨ tomorrow

-el

Hello hello! <33

I have some asks as old as September in reference to an ask game I’m not sure I could find again if I tried LMAO. The same to you! I hope the year treats you and your family with kindness and is chill!

WOW, that’s a lot! I hope it was at least fun to play in or something! Glad it all melted and it’s sunny now! Those pancakes look INCREDIBLE, and I bet that’s some damn good maple syrup ;)

Fake and very bad Russian accents are indeed hysterical! I love kids, honestly, they’re so fun. I worked a summer “camp” for a two week period and my best friend was a 5 year old who drew me a picture because I hung out with her when she was sad. What sort of job are you working, if you don’t mind me asking? :O are you teaching?

That’s a pretty damn good one! We all deserve to be treated with kindness, especially by ourselves!! Besides that, I just want to keep working on my silly novel(s), see my friends more, that kind of thing!!

Poor Priory, rejected by the both of us LMAO. Yay for The Hobbit! That was one of my favorite books for years, honestly you may be inspiring a reread for me now lol. Bookstores are my favorite ever, but they’re even better with animals! My irl bestie took me to one locally that I didn’t know existed and they had a dog and he was so cute.

Definitely staying warm! It’s actually warm enough yo be mildly concerned about it (insert TikTok audio “the weather outside is warm, the planet is dying). I wouldn’t mind it being slightly colder because I am gay and I must wear LAYERS. I hope you’re staying warm as well!

J*ke G*llenhall Frodo is literally the darkest timeline. Gotta say, Nick Cage as Aragorn does sound interesting tho. But for some reason this man is solidified in my brain as National Treasure Man. I’ve seen National Treasure once???

I saw you sent it! Gonna check that out right after this 🫡

I was about ready to kill for tickets! They randomly added a second OK location after the first one sold out, so I LUCKED OUT. They’re definitely nose bleed seats, but IDC, I GET TO SEE PARAMORE AND IM GOING INSANE. I’m normal about them. Truly. I think the side blog idea is AMAZING, that would be so cool! I have a silly music side blog too, but mine is much less interesting than that lmao. If you do it, let me know because I will absolutely follow it 👀

When I responded to that other one, yeah! Time zones are funky

AYO? I’m excited! I think I have a theory, but I will wait to see if I’m right hehe

Eagerly awaiting your next not anon message,

- Max/Lo <33

[dopamine--dream]

A type?

No I actually don’t--

I don’t have a--

nah really I don’t--

[queenstarlight2]

What your (Female) elven crush says about you

(based on what I think)

Arwen

If your Elven crush is Arwen, you have ✨immaculate✨ taste in women. Be honest, you don't get any bitches. Mostly because your standards are so damn high but whose wouldn't after seeing this FINE FUCKING ELF. she is mommy and her ada, is fine as fuck too. WOULD SHE DOM YOU, yes she would. And would you deny her, no you wouldn't. She could spit in my mouth and I would say thank you.

Arwen as a girlfriend would be a surreal experience, this bitch has to be apart of the valar by how pretty she is. Like peg me mommy😩 DEGRADE MEEE. also she would write you poetry and send you flowers and yall would probably do each others face-care. Also Arwen would put the prettiest braids in your hair like omg. Also I think she would enjoy somebody with plushy thighs so she can rest  her head on them (also so her head can be crushed between your thighs)  also I think she would also be crazy for muscular woman/men

Traits Arwen would like in their lover: Honest, kind, hot, Aragorn, generous, smart

Galadriel

If your Elven crush is Galadriel

You have severe mommy issues, that is the first thing I am going to say to you. Also this bitch would peg you in a heartbeat, male or female. Galadriel could use me as her cum rag and I would orgasm from the sight of her cum on my body. she is holy thank you very much, I AM UNHINGED BECAUSE OF HOW GORGEOUS SHE IS (and she kinda a bitch ngl but I would still tap that)  I don't have much to say about her other then, you got servere mommy issues, like go see a therapist rn. (and ima join you)  ANd her type, she ain't got one. LIke fr, you got to be one special ass mofo to get this goddess as your bae and you will be her bitch, male, female it don't matter.

She would satisfy all of your needs, she out here reading minds and shit. and this is all I got for her.

Traits Galadriel would like in their lover: Honest, (gorgeous), smart, clever, a sub, all that good stuff

Tauriel

If your Elven crush is Tauriel 

you a hoe, that is all you is. confident women make your knees shake. Don't be mad i am saying the truth. She would fuck you in the woods in a quick second and you would enjoy that. She is the captain of the guard and ima call her captain in the sheets too. were you glad when Peter Jackson made this fine as fuck women apart of the Hobbit movies. You have a mistress/ mommy kink, I don't make the rules 🥱. Gay as fuck you is

Traits Tauriel would like in their lover: Passionate, wild, kind, badass, you know the drill

[elesheir]

"Far had I felt the earth beneath me tremble." His voice rose calm and oceans-deep, untroubled as the surface of woodland lakes. Yet, as the dense fog fled afeared, it revealed him a wanderer whom war had touched. Rough were his hands of skin blood-slicked, and like the slayer he seemed amidst such slaughter. The sight was ghastly! The deed was cruel! With wretched skill had their limbs been torn. But none were this his doing, and Aragorn, beholding her in the light of dawn, knew the beasts had fell to none other. Yes, how the world so quaked in her fury... "You would frighten even She," he said beside the trees.

@borghildr, of mighty storms.

[errruvande]

There's not such a thing like 'too much help'

Legolas x Reader

Word count: ~1,5k summary: you want to master your archery skills so bad but Legolas is far too excited about it in the beginning TW: none

AN: my first piece for this fandom ever, enjoy and I hope my style and language have changed a bit over these 5 moths lmao

(gifs are not mine)

"C'mon Y/n, you got this".

Legolas whispered to you, while you were taking aim at a deer at the forest. "Take a deep breath if you need to". he was beside you, squatting in silence, as you were sitting at your knees trying to find stable position to take a shot "It's okay, now slow—"

You released the bowstring when he touched your elbow in case to make it paralleled to your left arm. 

"Damn!" the arrow flew next to deer's head and fell into the bush. "Legolas!" you turned your whole body to tell him how incredibly annoying he might be sometimes.

"I almost get it, if it wasn't for your touch!" you stand up on your feet and pushed an elf. Legolas fell but fortunately for him there was a squishy grass he was standing on. "Please, let me do it myself, for Eru's sake!"

Legolas, for a true word, might be hyper help giving when you were trying to improve your skills in archery. Even when you didn't ask him for help, he always was there telling what you were doing wrong and cheering you up when you get something right. 

It wasn't a secret to anyone, you wasn't god at archery. To be honest, you weren't an excellent worrier in general, sometimes you though Merry and Pippin were doing better than you fighting on swords, sparring with Boromir or Aragorn. But you were highly appreciated in the fellowship for another, very important and technically hard skill: you had an extraordinary navigational and stalking skills. Aragorn himself wasn't that good at navigation being a ranger for years, so the fellowship was looking after you and guarding you as it was you who wore the ring on your neck. 

 "I’m just trying to help you, mellon nîn". Legolas approached you on your way back to the camp, where everybody was desire a slice of meet in their mouths. "Don't act like it’s my fault, I wanted to point out your mistake".

 You said nothing back, just made a grimace and sat on a fallen tree nearby the fire. 

 "It seems no meat today, huh?" Boromir said with a smile of pain, breaking off a piece of lembas elves of Lothlórien gave you. "Yeah, I'm fine with this elvish bread again, that's okay". 

 Legolas threw a little rock at him. "Stop it, Boromir!"

 "Everything is fine!" you heard Aragorn's voice back from the shadow of the trees. You didn't even noticed he wasn't there by the fire. "I shot some rabbits", he threw three rabbit's carcasses in front of Boromir. "that's not much but we won't starve at least".

 Sam immediately took his pan off his bag and started to skin little carcasses. 

"Ahhh!.." he exhaled. "If only we had some potatoes..." hobbit placed the rabbits on the pan, seasoned it and sat next to the fire. "My potatoes are the best in Shire!" Sam was patting the pan randomly with his tiny wooden spatula, head cocked on one side, he exhaled once more.

That was your turn to watch the camp this night, but Aragorn volunteered to help you, as he felt the kind of sadness in you after another pointless try to shot something.

"He really does believe in you, Y/n". he said, as he was cleaning and sharpening his sword, sitting next to you. "Don't be angry at him". 

Aragorn only heard your exhale as you looked over the camp and lingered your eyes on sleeping Legolas. 

"I'm not angry at him, no". After a moment of silence you sad, your voice was quiet and a bit sad. "I am..." you paused to take a deep breath and swallow your ego. "...envious of his skills". Aragorn smiled. "He's doing it so naturally, like he was born with bow and arrow in his little hands..." at the last words you started mimicking newborn's gestures, curling your fingers.

 Aragorn was going to tell something like "don't be, he has the best mentors in Middle Eath" etc etc but someone touched you by the shoulder and you shivered. What a watcher who let someone to come so close without noticing...

 "This is technically not true", the words fell like music, that was Legolas, who woke up hearing you two were talking. "I wasn't any better than you in the beginning, actually". he sat upon a rock you were sitting at and glanced over you with a little smile. "I just want you to know it's not that easy to master archery". 

You wrapped your fingers over the bow that was hanging on your back a fair second ago and looked back at Legolas, but your face was stone cold.

 "But look at you..." you bent your bow slightly just to feel the straightness of the bowstring. "I bet, you can shoot a squirrel in an eye without even looking at it."

It was obvious you were really envy. You always wanted to be good at archery, since your brothers had been taking you with them on hunting, but not for you to kill animal but to stalk it. They rarely, if at all, brought home some food if you weren't with them looking for animal. But you wanted to hunt. And valar did their best for you to met Legolas, as long as there wasn't anyone better than Legolas Thranduilion at art that was called archery. It was match made by Eluvatar itself: an absolute archery nub and Legolas who wanted to help you every time he saw you. 

 "I've been learning how to use my bow since my very childhood, mellon nîn, so only a little bit more than two thousand years". He smirked and you force a little laugh in return. "And you're doing great, for you just started practicing your skills properly. You are natural." Legolas stood up and took few steps to his place. "We can practice tomorrow while our little friends will eat their second breakfast". He smirked again but you hardly saw it in the dark. 

He left you keeping your watch but he planted a warmth feeling inside you, some hope and faith. You perched upon a rock the way the warmth of the fire could still reach you but you could see the area that was surrounding the camp. You take off the bow again just to feel the weapon and you couldn’t wait for tomorrow's practice. You should've tell Legolas that you didn't mean to offend him earlier this day, but something stopped you while you were talking. So you couldn't wait to apologize as well. 

The next day you did as he told. While Sam, Merry, Pippin and Frodo was eating their sEcoNd breakfast you were practicing with Legolas. And this time you were patient and thankful. You listened to what he was saying carefully and tried to do thing as close as he was showing. 

"You almost got that rabbit, did you see?" Legolas was extremely excited, he looked like he was even more elated than you were. "A little more practice and you’ll get it y/n".

You smoothed your hair, you didn't really needed that but you tried to hide your face behind your hand just to Legolas couldn't see that you'd blushed. 

 "You have far too much faith in me". you laughed at him in shyness. 

 "And you have far too little". For just a moment you saw the fire of adoration in Legolas' eyes and that fire captivated you, so you jumped where you were standing when Legolas embraced you, since it's not very common gesture among elves and you hadn't expected him to hug you. "You'll see you get it". 

 "Yeah, with the teacher like you, I surely will get it". The words you said were almost inaudible, you only felt the warm air leaving your mouth as you spoke.

 Legolas and you were laughing and trying to practice a little bit more as you heard a wild cry from the camp. You immediately forgot about the practice and jokes and run on the top of your strength to help your friend. 

 "The growling!" Legolas shouted running in front of you.

"The wargs!" Your friend nodded, jerking his head in manner of telling someone to hurry up. But you stopped absolutely terrified. You saw wargs just ones and only in distance and now you had to fight them, fight for the lives of your friends.��Their growling plugged your ears and your fingers and legs went numb for a solid minut.

You came back in sensation when Legolas was almost at the camp and you could see him bending his bow in such grace that only elf has. You climbed up on a rock and saw Aragorn, surrounded by two wargs with the rider on one of them. You didn't even think, you hadn't have time to think, you just bent your bow and losed an arrow, hoping you won't kill Aragorn instead of a goblin. The second left, you felt the stares: everyone, especially Aragorn, was looking at you in awe. They doubled their aweness when you shot the second goblin while everybody else was staring at you forgot about the battle. 

When you and the fellowship killed other goblins and wargs, your friends started to congratulate you on your first kills. 

"I told you!" Legolas was happy as he never was. "You just killed TWO goblins, not just one!" he again embraced you and you again went numb a bit from frustration. "I'm so proud of you, Y/n".

"I couldn't kill anything, if not for you huh" Shyness overtook you and you bit your lip, while your cheeks were becoming more and more warm. "Thank you so much, Mellon nîn - you tried to say it in Sindaring and won a big smile from Legolas".

From then on, you was the one who hunted for the fellowship and you were watching horizon with Legolas when the fellowship needed to be protected at all fronts. When the horizon was clear, Legolas still was showing you some techniques and when you were messing up, there wasn't any arguing, but only silent laughter from both of you.

An: that's all, that is the first story for LOTR I have ever wrote ahah (it was hiding in my drafts for at least 5 months, I guess) hope you liked it at least a little lmao

Forever tag: @bonjour-rainycity

Fic tag: @himbo-bagginss @from-patroclus-with-love @moony-artnstuff @raaaszka @erdbeer-mausi @hdhdjs @milkywhoreos @calm-anxiety @queen-of-bad-ideas @anarchy-in-a-hooman @legaciessstheoriginals @adrian-nebula @molarty @boyruins