#druadan forest

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

By Moonlight

Adar x Fem!Elf!Reader

Part One- Babes in the Woods

Summery: Reader finds Uruk children alone in the forest and returns them to their own meeting their "Adar".

Warnings: cannon typical violence

Only a little Adar in this first bit but this will be many parts of pining for Lord Father of the Uruks. So enjoy time with the babies for now!

Druadan Forest was the farthest west you'd ever been. The pine trees cast their needles to the uneven path, wind wiping them around your aching feet. You pulled your thin cloaks hood tighter to your face as a harsh gust sent them to your exposed skin. The last warmth of summer still clung in the air and you were thankful for that.

Avari elves were few and far between these days. After kin had been stolen by Morgoth many hid away farther South, deep in forests or caves. For you this was an impossible ask, to spend your millennia without a glimpse of starlight or another kindred soul to watch the ages pass with. Your wild flee into the moonlit night from everything you'd ever known had been the most terrifying moment of your long life. Though to this day you could not regret the action, not even as the hunger pains hit once more.

You stopped by a gnarly felled tree, tucking yourself and your knapsack low in the cover of its exposed roots. The ground was softer here, a patch of moss that you rested your weary legs on. Your water skin was nearing empty but you drank your fill regardless. There was a stream or river close enough you could hear its rubble from your resting spot. You let your eyes drift closed against the golden rays piercing through the canopy and tried to hold off from eating the last of your last catch a little while longer.

The sound that startled you from your rest was unlike anything you'd ever heard. Loud, piercing and in an extreme state of duress. Your body seemed to react to it of its own accord, slinging your bag to your back and leaping into a run in one swift motion.

A part of you feared it may be some kind of trap. You'd encountered enough slit throats and wolves to feed that concern. That you'd be sprinting headfirst into your own death here but the wail only seemed to get more pained the closer to the river you ran. You made your mind up when you finally recognised the sound. You'd been the youngest of your kin and had never actually beheld an infant before but you were certain that's what it was. A baby.

The forest thinned by the river, earth turning to stone but your feet were light and made not a sound as you caught sight of an over turned caravan. It seemed made of scrap material and brittle wood and now laid on its side with two more coming into view in much the same state behind it.

You stopped your approach on the edge of the trees as a jeering laugh broke out. The wailing had stopped a abruptly and in its absence you were able to focus on the group ahead. Three men around a large fire. There were body's already burning upon it, filling the air with its acrid, metallic smell.

They seemed to be celebrating, this their enemy's pyre and not one for their own. Still it hardly seemed the place for a baby to be and you set your keen eyes to the men themselves. Each had sheaved weapons, bows strung to their backs. A mousey blond swiped dark blood from a long dagger onto his sleeve as his broad companion tossed something to the fire.

Then you saw it, the little bundle hanging in its tattered blanket from the fist of the smallest man. He sneered wildly at his companions before bringing the child back to him and removing the blanket.

The screech pierced the world again, an excruciating wail as the low sun's orange rays beat against ashen skin. Again your body moved before your mind, short sword drawn and sliced through the man's wrist. You caught the babe rolling with it pressed to your chest before the severed hand hit the ground.

The small man brought his bleeding stump to his face, screaming and stumbling back into the pyre. His wails turned shrill as he fought the spreading flames. His kin turning to your hunched form and drawing swords.

It was at this moment a stone whipped past your hair and struck the blond on his temple. Using the distraction your surged forward, driving your blade under the larger man's leather armor and to his heart. You spun as you pulled your blade free spraying crimson across white stone.

The blond met your eyes, a hand over his eye were blood trickled down. He had his own blade in hand now, a broadsword that seemed too large for his frame. Still with unexpected strength he swung it one handed were you had been. The blade just catching against the hem of your dress and tearing the fabric. Not for the first time in your journey you'd cursed the thing.

The baby you held cried out again and you risked a glance down at it, eyes widening as you finally took in its form. Pale skin, paler even than you'd first seen, rendered reddish by the suns exposure. It's ears tucked in wisps of white hair were pointed like your own but turned slight downward. It was an orc child.

You didn't have time to take it all in as a nearby squeak altered you to the swords stroke coming down to your head. You just managed to lift your own to meet it, metal clashing and sparking as you used it's momentum. You slid with the force pushed atop you between the assailants legs, orc again pressed against you. Then with a cry of your own you raised up and stabbed through the blonds back.

The world seemed to hold its breath then with you. Silence ringing in your ears as you looked to the setting sun. You turned your back to it, letting your shadow cast over the infants form as you held it out from you again. The cries were nothing more than burbles now, residual pain from its burnt skin being forgotten as it blinked large amber eyes at your own. Tiny hands reached out to you as grumbling sounds of discontentment fell from the baby's lips. You brought it back to your chest, its long nails grasping the neck of your dress as it settled.

You stayed like that a moment, blood dripping from your sword against the pale stone before your ears twitched. You'd almost forgotten about the other. The one who threw the stone and called out to rescue you from that sword. There was a shuffling of feet, worn fabric soles shifting against stone and earth. Not just the one set either, it sounded like several sets from one of the over turned caravans.

As slow as you could you flicked the blood from your blade, not missing a sharp intake of breathes. They didn't exhale when you returned your blade to your belt. Carefully you moved your cloak from your shoulders draping the hood over the baby's head and making sure its little body remained covered. You stepped hard on the stone, ensuring your approach would echo out.

"Greetings?" You called out, cringing at your hoarse tone. You'd not spoken a word to anyone since you'd left home in spring save a little song when you were deep in the woods. Now with autumns turn you weren't sure how to make your watchers feel safe. There was no movement from the torn fabric door of the cart, no sounds of their flee either.

"They're alive." You spoke again, clearer this time but again you flushed at your failing words. Staring again into the dark where you could now hear breathing. "Your baby, they're... I'll just place them here then."

You knelt by the caravan as a gust of wind shifted what you now could see was animal skin from the darkness. There you were met with 3 pairs of yellow eyes staring wide out at you. Children. They were all children but all bared fanged teeth out at you.

"It's alright, be at ease." You tried, smoothing your voice the best you could. You moved to pull the baby from you to return them to their kin but tiny nails dug further into the linen of your dress. You looked to the infant brows knitting together at the situation.

"Please little one. To your own." You coaxed, pushing a finger to their palm to release their grip. They protested still grabbing more fabric in their firsts and gumming it in their mouth. You looked back desperately to the orc children.

In turn they'd moved closer to the edge of their sanctuary and now watched you with softer eyes, almost mirthful. The eldest it seemed, or at least the largest of them, moved past the other two. The trees provided more shade here and they pulled a worn hood over their ears. They reached forward with shaking arms and spoke to the infant in words you didn't understand.

It took a moment but they were able to pry the protesting baby from you and pass them back to the other two children. Though you suddenly felt the cold space the baby had been so sorely. It was then the eldest pulled a wicked knife from their layers and pointed it crudely out at you. They spoke but seeing your knit brow they started again.

"Leave us be or i'll gut you!" They demanded now in shaking westron. Close you could see this child was a young orc boy. He'd shed tears recently and the track marks through the grime on his face were stark even against his more mottled skin.

You cast your eyes over them again. Children. They were just children, now alone as their kin burned in the fading light. How could they possibly make it alone? With such a small one in tow as well? You weren't even sure they'd be able to carry the baby themselves not for far at least.

"Do you know what an oath is child." You said. His face scrunched in anger.

"Of course I do!" He huffed, still waving his blade at you. "You swear something, then... then there's blood and..." he seemed paused in thought as he wasn't sure what would come next.

Though the metal of his dagger was ragged it was a clean blade and it looked wickedly sharp. You took his hand despite his protestations and guided it to your palm. He stopped fighting you as you drew the blade across your own skin, biting your cheek against the sting. You held the hand up, palm to the others as you dropped your head.

"You have my word, on my life I mean you no harm. I will deliver you to your kin if that is what you wish." Your voice finally sounded your own again. Certain and strong.

The children seemed to contemplate it a moment in their own tongue before the eldest nodded to you. All at once the sun now hidden behind the horizon the orc-lings poured from out of their shelter. It was hard to tell on ones so young but you think the one with a shock of red fluff atop their head was a girl. The other younger boy had sparse black hair but eyes so deep in their colour they almost looked red in the firelight.

"Where can we find other orcs..." You began.

"Uruk." Three little voices grunted at you in unison.

"Uruk." You returned, testing the word. "Sorry, where can we find more Uruk then. Your kinsmen."

The children weren't much help on the matter, only voicing that they wanted to go to their "lord father". You set them a small fire further from the bodies and set about the caravan. There were no maps but there was food so you brought it to your young traveling companions. There were water skins, that you filled for them and a small cart that must have been dragged along with them. It didn't take too long to have it covered in the caravans skins.

The girl, Tûkâ, and eldest, Thrak, walked alongside you for a time, her small claws poking holes in your torn skirts as she held to them. The smaller boy who'd introduced himself with a flourish as Torz sat inside the cart, cradling the baby. It wasn't long after you'd crossed the river that the other two joined him, though Thrak held out until he'd stumbled into your side.

When light came you drew the skins tight around the cart, only peaking in when you were sure the shadow of the high trees would be enough cover. The baby stirred, crying out and causing you to halt the journey. In shade you stooped low, poking your head into the cart entirely. The baby cried harder still, reaching arms up to you. Thrak passed them up to you, still wrapped in your cloak. The cries continued as you bounced them gently, singing a soft lullaby you remembered your mother singing to you. It helped a little but their tiny face was still screwed up and they were restless in your arms.

"He's hungry." Torz offered, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Will he not eat?" You ask, cooing as he took a finger into his mouth.

"...He's a baby." Thrak frowned, crossing his arms. "He's got no teeth."

You thought a moment before turning your knapsack round your body. You had cooked potatoes you'd taken from the caravan, if you mushed them up in a bowl maybe the baby could eat it then. Thrak watched displeased but his expression softened when you were able to spoon a bit into the babies mouth.

"We must move quickly, I fear for this little one." You sighed. The baby's hands seemed weaker in its grasp than before, loosely curling around your bloodied hand. The reddish skin where they'd been burned seemed to be pealing at the edges and weeping into your cloak. You pealed it back gently before tearing your chemise to make bandages. You hoped they'd help until your could get him to his own.

For the next two days you ran the cart as fast as you could, pushing it as smoothly as possible through the now rolling hills. The raw wound on your hand ached and bled against the rough wood but you had to keep moving. The sun lost its warmth and without your cloak the chill hit you hard. The little ones huddled under the covers of the cart, taking turns with the baby and singing your song to him.

The woods grew back up again, oaks and sycamore dropping a carpet of brilliant leaves matching the children's eyes. When night fell you had to stop, your lungs burning and your legs like lead. Thrak brought you water with and the others curled around your fast cooling body. Their warmth helped block out the icy chill of the night but you could not find rest. Your mind churning in anxieties as you held the baby between your bodies. He was so quiet and though he breathed his skin felt cold.

You set out again a few hours before dawn, Thrak insisting on pushing the cart with Torz after you and Tûkâ. Hope swelled in your breast as you spied the faintest glow over the next hill. When you were sure they'd see it as well you pointed it out to your companions. They seemed weary at first, the memories of men still fresh in mind but soon their ears flicked. You'd heard it too, the gruffer voices speaking in their language.

Without thought you hurried ahead, the boys abandoning the cart and rushing faster to your side. They called out to their Uruk elders in their own tongue as you reached to top of the hill. Bellow you could now see a great score in the earth. A trench leading as far back as the mountains and covered with cloth animal skins to keep the light out.

The Uruk's that approached drew weapons, arrows nocked and aimed at you. The children huddled to your skirts, Thrak moving ahead to shout something to the adults. They paid him no mind, brushing past him as they drew closer.

Fearing for them you passed the baby down to Tûkâ and raised your palms. You were brought to your knees by a jab to your leg, cold mud seeping through your dress. Thrak continued to protest on your behalf as your belt and sword were taken from you and iron shackles were snapped in place.

You were pushed down the hill towards the camps of Uruk by the one you assumed to be their captain. He was mottled skinned like Thrak but with none of the kindness in his eyes. You were pushed down into the trench, falling hard onto the turned over earth. A chorus of cruel laughter broke out as you scrambled back to your feet.

"Better take this one to Adar." The captain growled. He pushed your back with the tip of his blade, forcing you forward. Over your shoulder you spied the children being taken the other way, Thrak still fighting to get back to you.

...

Adar stood alone in a dug out room, running his gauntlet's spiked fingers over the map. By winter they'd reach the Southlands but it would take into Summer before their work would be done. He'd labored for centuries to give his children a home, what was a few more months.

"Lord father." One of his children broke the silence. Adar turned to him, darkening his face when he saw the Elleth. One of his children held her sword in his fist, whilst his scouts captain hit her on the side of the head with his. She groaned dropping to her knees in front of him, her head remaining low as Adar stalked forward.

"Found this one on the border with youngins' Lord Father." his child continued. She remained still on the ground as Adar appraised her. She hardly seemed like a scout herself. Her dress was almost formal though it had seen far better days, now caked in grime and blood. Though its style was all too familiar to him.

"Lembi... What brings an Avari so far from home." Adar rasped watching her stiffen at his words. Her hands clenched a moment before Adar watched her turn them, bloodied palm now resting on her knees. Her eyes turned to his and he was struck by the sight. Even with the mud on her face and on her knees, she looked fierce. A strength in her gaze like the rivers themselves.

"An oath." She said.

[emmanuellececchi]

Where is Ghan-buri-Ghan?

I don't know why it had taken me so long but, while I was posting about drabble his name popped up in my mind.

Where is he? The druadan weren't in the movie. And while I understood the need to take some and add some, I felt it was a loss.

Here we see Theoden and the whole Rohan accepting help from those people. They could have been biased against them but Theoden listen, accepted and promised help. And then Aragorn gave them back their forest.

I feel there's not much about them around, about Ghan-buri-Ghan himself and so on.

Any others of my fellow rohanese lovers who know something? have some lore?

[alda-rana]

One I wanted to do during my read-along but didn't: Ghân-buri-ghân, chief of the Woses of Druadan Forest!

[coopsgirl]

This day in Middle Earth history: March 13, TA 3019

Frodo captured by the Orcs of Cirith Ungol. The Pelennor is overrun. Faramir is wounded. Aragorn reaches Pelargir and captures the fleet. Theoden in Druadan Forest.

[somelotrnerd]

The History of Gondor: Part 4

Map of Middle-earth:

After the victory, Aragorn furls his banner and makes camp outside the city of Minas Tirith. He appoints Imrahil the temporary lord of the city as per Gondorian law. Aragorn would later enter the city in secret, coming to the Houses of Healing where he heals Merry, Éowyn, and Faramir - all of whom are suffering under the Black Breath. Greater than any genealogy is this fulfillment of a prophecy: “The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known.” - The Return of the King, Book 5, Chapter 8: “The Houses of Healing”

Word spreads throughout the city and Aragorn would work late into the night healing the citizens of Gondor. 

After taking counsel with Gandalf, Éomer, Imrahil, Elladan, and Elrohir, Aragorn resolves to lead a force in a distractionary attack upon Mordor in hopes it would give Frodo a chance to destroy the One Ring. This force of 7000 leaves Minas Tirith on March 18th. It is estimated that a defensive force of around 9000 is left behind to protect the city, featuring Rohirrim, soldiers from the southern fiefdoms, and the survivors of the city.

The Host of the West would meet an army of Sauron’s Orcs, Trolls, Haradrim, and Easterlings numbering over 60,000. The Great Eagles would also come to the battle and aid the Men, and the One Ring is indeed destroyed, causing the destruction of Sauron, the Nazgûl, Barad-dûr, the Black Gate, and most of Sauron’s forces. With the great enemy permanently disembodied and never again a threat, Aragorn returns to Minas Tirith where Faramir, now Steward of Gondor, leads the ceremony crowning Aragorn King of Gondor. 

Aragorn reinstates the role of Steward of Gondor as it had once been before the line of kings failed, making Faramir both Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien. In time, Ithilien would indeed become populated once more. One group who comes to dwell there are some Elves of Mirkwood, led by Legolas, and it is said Ithilien once again becomes the fairest country in all the westlands. 

As for Aragorn, he would be taken up the slopes of Mount Mindolluin behind Minas Tirith by Gandalf and there would find a sapling of the White Tree of Gondor, planting it in place of the long dead tree, which is taken to the Houses of the Dead. After her arrival with her father, grandmother, and grandfather, Arwen marries Aragorn in Minas Tirith on Midsummer’s Day 3019 TA. It is also at this time that Elrond presents the Sceptre of Annúminas to Aragorn, officially making him the King of Arnor.

Now King of the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor, Aragorn sets to re-ordering his realm. He orders the restoration of Orthanc and has its palantír returned. He declares the Druadan Forest a protected realm of his kingdom belonging to the Drúedain. The Shire is likewise declared a free land under the protection of his kingdom, and forbids Men from entering it without the leave of the halflings. He also expands the Shire to include the lands as far west as Emyn Beraid. 

Together, Aragorn and Éomer renew the Oaths of Cirion and Eorl, and due to the effects of Sauron’s influence, we are told Éomer would often fulfill the Oath - for there are many enemies to defeat before the White Tree could grow in peace. Together, Aragorn and Éomer would ride to both the East and South of Middle-earth, fighting and defeating the last remnants of those loyal to Sauron.

We are told Aragorn makes peace with the Haradrim after his coronation and that the threat of the Corsairs is finally subdued during his reign and the haven of Umbar finally re-taken.

The reign of King Aragorn II Elessar would bring prosperity not seen in Gondor for centuries. He would rule for 122 years before his death on March 1st, 120 of the Fourth Age. At this time, his son Eldarion would take the throne, inheriting a Reunited Kingdom unburdened by the threat of Sauron or great enemies influenced by his presence. He is left to lead Gondor into the new Fourth Age of Middle-earth. While we don’t know much canonically of Eldarion’s reign, the waning of his rule serves as the backdrop for Tolkien’s abandoned sequel.

Map of the Reunited Kingdom:

[d-e-r-n-e-b-e-l]

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 . . . The True Werewolf / Druadan Forest @graf.werwolf 🔥 @vkhaoz_stormrage 🔥 @werewolfrecords 🔥 @domino_black_metal_cat 🖤 🐱 . . . #thetruewerewolf #druadanforest #werewolfrecords #splitalbum #blackmetal #darkambient #epicblackmetal #dungeonsynth #trueblackmetal #blackmetalmusic #blackmetalband #blackmetalhead #metal #metalheadsofinstagram #metalhead #metalheads #instametal #cat #blackmetalgram #cdcollector #cdcollection #metalcollector #metalcollection #blackmetalart #musiccollection #musiccollector #recordcollector #recordcollection #cdjunkie #cdporn (à Strasbourg, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpcweOYoSJu/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[danielpsharma]

Episode 07: Saruman's Uruk-Hai

Druadan Forest: Year: 3001.

[torchwood-99]

Oh Elfhelm would have been going out of his mind waiting for news of Eowyn and Merry. And very little scares him but oh my god waiting to see what Eomer does to him is like the worst thing ever.

But then he does see Eomer, and it's before Aragorn is able to cure her, and there's still no certainty and Eomer's reaction is worse than Elfhelm could possibly have expected, because he doesn't scream or curse or beat him or strip him off his rank or anything. He doesn't even let him apologise.

And then when Eowyn recovers Eomer still doesn't lay into Elfhelm, he still doesn't let him apologise and instead of accepting his offer to ride to certain death at the Black Gates, Eomer sends him to lead the remaining troops to the Druadan Forest and Elfhelm doesn't think he means it as a punishment and actually Elfhelm wishes so much.

Whoops, still thinking about Elfhelm!

Elfhelm sitting for long hours in the hallway of the Houses of Healing, waiting to be told what’s become of Éowyn and Merry. Elfhelm thinking he might go mad if he doesn’t hear something soon. Elfhelm second guessing himself on an endless loop of self reproach. I did the right thing, didn’t I? They wanted to fight, after all. I couldn’t have known it would turn out this way. Elfhelm getting nauseated at the very idea of facing Éomer now, of having to admit that he knew very well who was riding with his éored and that he did nothing to stop it. Elfhelm torturing himself with thoughts of Éowyn as the small, innocent child she was when they first met. Elfhelm averting his eyes every time Pippin rushes past, unable to witness the little hobbit’s pain and anxiety for his friend without being crushed under the weight of his own guilt. Elfhelm wondering what harsh words his old friend Théoden would have had for him if he’d lived long enough to discover what Elfhelm had done. Elfhelm thinking he probably deserved those harsh words, and more besides. Elfhelm hoping, praying, begging that he didn’t send two good people to unnecessary deaths. Elfhelm bargaining with fate to spare their lives. Elfhelm on the very edge.

[albumarchives]

Druadan Forest/Old Sorcery | Split (2021)

[bruderdeslichtsblackmetal]

EMBRYONIC SLUMBER set release date for WEREWOLF debut, reveal first tracks – features members of VARGRAV, SARGEIST, DRUADAN FOREST, DESOLATE SHRINE+++

http://bruderdeslichts.com/embryonic-slumber-set-release-date-for-werewolf-debut-reveal-first-tracks-features-members-of-vargrav-sargeist-druadan-forest-desolate-shrine/

[blackmetalstellar]

DRUADAN FOREST

[Dismal Spells From The Dragonrealm, Black Metal, Finland, Werewolf Records, 2019]

- https://werewolfrecords.bandcamp.com/album/dismal-spells-from-the-dragonrealm

[bruderdeslichts]

ANTIQ to release three-way split among DRUADAN FOREST, URUK-HAI, and BANNWALD – first track revealed 

http://bruderdeslichts.com/antiq-to-release-three-way-split-among-druadan-forest-uruk-hai-and-bannwald-first-track-revealed/

[coopsgirl]

March 13 T.A. 3019

Frodo captured by the Orcs of Cirith Ungol. The Pelennor is overrun. Faramir is wounded. Aragorn reaches Pelargir and captures the fleet. Theoden in Druadan Forest.

[atmosphericblackmetalofficial]

Atmospheric / Epic Black Metal / Ambient from Finland The Lost Dimension (2017)

[hensh-wolfthroat]

⛨ Dragons of Forgotten Times ⚔ 🐉 . . . . . . ~Druadan Forest 🎧