#eru help me

[souredfigs]

Nienna feeling the grief and torment of the faithful under her shrine and Ulmo feeling their blood bleeding into his waters... I am not gonna survive to watch the fall actually

[denzit]

My new hobbie is waiting for the next haladriel fic update to drop.

[ainu-blog-official]

I hate living in the central nether

To clarify, the central nether is where most maia live so it's more crowded than anything. But I live on the border of it, so that means I'm pretty close to the outer dark, which is pretty close to the door of night.

Guess who I can hear screaming every day at exactly 2 pm.

How on earth did this fellow ever attempt to take over middle-earth??? Melkor really needs to get some throat lozenges.

Melian

[ikomahis]

𝔏𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔫

( Mairon / Sauron's HC redemption yearning wannabe ; post-canon )

⭑ felt sad for my ginger villain so i wrote a lil something for my delulu self

⭑ headcanon of Mairon / Sauron’s possible redemption ; only if he wasn’t stubborn/cowardice/bitter enough to seek for it (which it’s up to us fans to believe what we want. i believe he might after many ages pass and his own anger eats itself)

⭑ short 'what if'

⭑ post-canon ; probably set somewhere in post Fourth Age

⭑ i’m also sucker for redemption arcs, especially for those who weren’t truly evil in their core

⸻⸻⸻ ⚶ ⸻⸻⸻

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒈𝒆.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒-𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑. 𝐶𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙. 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐷𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝐸𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑈𝑛𝑑𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠, 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑠, 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒, ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡, 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙, ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 - 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑.

𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑢𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟.

𝑁𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑅𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝐷𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑡, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡.

⸻⸻⸻

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑, 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙, 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑒. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑, 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑏𝑦.

𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑦.

𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑙𝑜𝑤. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐻𝑎𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒, 𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛.

𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑒𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝐸𝑟𝑢 𝐼𝑙𝑢́𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓. 𝐻𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑣𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑, 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑡, 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠.

𝐴𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠.

⸻⸻⸻

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑚, 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑛. 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑, ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙.

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒? 𝐴 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑀𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒-𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒.

𝑇𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑚 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒?

⸻⸻⸻

𝑀𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑑-𝑑𝑢̂𝑟, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑜, ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑑. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑, ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡 - 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑠. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑎, 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦. 𝐴 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝐴 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑢𝑙𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑚𝑖𝑡ℎ. 𝑂𝑓 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚.

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡ℎ, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟.

𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑, 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠. 𝐼𝑡 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡.

𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛?

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒... ?

⸻⸻⸻

𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛.

𝐴𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛; 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡, 𝑎 𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝐻𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑑. 𝑁𝑜𝑤, 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟-𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ��𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑒, 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠. 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑠, ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑟𝑑𝑎, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐿𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑎 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘.

𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝐴 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝐴 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒, ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔.

𝐴 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡.

𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆.

⸻⸻⸻ ⚶ ⸻⸻⸻

[lokittystuckinatree]

Just here to point out that, even without the parallel to Aragorn singing about Beren and Luthien, Legolas singing that song about Nimrodel (Silvan Maid) and Amroth (Sindarin Royalty) in the books is way too perfect of a parallel to his love for Tauriel in the movies to ignore. Adding my headcanon that Tauriel sailed west sometime around the War of the Ring, it’s just so angsty.

Imagine Legolas comforting Tauriel after Kili’s sacrifice, then Gimli comforting Legolas when Tauriel sails west without him, then Legolas and Tauriel in Valinor comforting eachother after Gimli passes. In my mind, they have their happy ending with each other, forever preserving the memory of the dwarves they have loved and lost.

[raspberryzingaaa]

Me, constantly while reading Lord of the Rings: "why aren't yall praying right now?"

[hideyseek]

we're baaaaaaaaaaaack!!!!!!!

[socksracoon10]

Being an Elf and falling in love with Thorin

Headcanons below the cut!

When Gandalf had first summoned you, it wasn't a very easy decision to make.

Being a Sindar elf yourself, the choice of having to derail from your own beliefs bruised your ego... especially since you were entrusted with overseeing Thorin and his company.

"My dear (Y/N)," Gandalf sighed, "I can not trust any other elf with such an arduous task. I know you are capable of setting aside your prejudices and aiding these dwarves."

"You saved my life once from the Uruk-hais. I am indebted to you for that, Gandalf. But I believe that this will be the one time I shall repay you for your kindness in this manner. Do not expect more from me." You muttered with a bitter tone.

"I do not plan on it." Gandalf reassured you.

When you first met the company under Bilbo's roof, there was silence. An eerie amount of silence.

The hobbit before you seemed enchanted by your presence.

You learned his name was Bilbo; he was the most sensible out of the bunch at the moment.

Your eyes traveled across the room and landed on Thorin, who had a nasty scowl on his face.

He wasn't expecting you to actually show up. He had hoped that for once that elvish pride would've saved him from having to face another individual of the same kind that had betrayed him years ago.

The silence continued, and you made your presence known. You were here to help the dwarves, nothing more and nothing less. You would accompany them to The Misty Mountains, but you would not step foot into their sacred lair. Not out of respect, but out of the sheer disgust you had for the dwarves.

Not even Eru could force you to enter their dwelling; it seemed as if death was the better option.

The journey there was not an easy one.

And Thorin didn't make it any easier.

He'd pass sly remarks every so often about you, try to demean you in front of everyone. He was constantly fighting a battle to ensure that you were beneath him in every aspect, despite being one of the most skilled elves to traverse Middle-Earth.

"Ah, it's best not to anger (Y/N), Thorin," Gandalf would quip from the background, wanting to ease the tension.

It did nothing.

There was an instance where you had left the group to gain more ground and a safer pathway for the dwarves through the forests.

Yeah, biggest mistake ever and Thorin wouldn't stop nagging you about it.

Those stupid trolls had gotten to them and Bilbo had managed to stall them long enough before Gandalf used the sunlight as a weapon.

"I left for one day... forgive me, I was merely trying to secure a safe path," You hissed at Thorin as he shoved past you.

"A safe path will only do if the company itself is safe first, elf," He spat, glancing over his shoulder. You so desperately wanted to spear your blade through his heart.

The rest of the trip resumed its unsteady silence. You glared at the other dwarves, not wishing to say anything to them. Occasionally, you'd offer a helping hand to Bilbo.

That didn't go unnoticed by Thorin. He didn't really like Bilbo as much, but compared to you? Bilbo was far better, and the stupid burglar was mingling with the wrong person.

However, his concerns of Bilbo shifted to his two nephews - Fili and Kili.

While they still harbored some resentment towards you for being a Sindar Elf, they were still young. They were naive, they did not experience that devastating day when Thranduil's forces abandoned Thorin's desperate cries for help.

And so what did they do?

They talked. Talked, and talked. Especially, Kili. Fili would add a joke once or twice, but if he ever caught Thorin's watchful eye, he'd gulp his words and nudge Kili to quit.

And then slowly, one by one... the dwarves were opening up to you.

Balin was more sympathetic, he was a very kind and wise dwarf. You actually enjoyed his presence.

Bofur was a bit reluctant to talk to you at first, but slowly came around. You noticed this when he asked you if you needed more food on your plate when you were dining in Rivendell. That was enough to tell you that perhaps there could be friendships between the dwarves and the elves.

You saved their asses a couple times, especially with the Goblins. Killed some orcs led by Azog. And then watched Azog brutally wound Thorin.

And then something switched in you. For a moment, you felt your breath hitch at the sight of him, dazed and unconscious. Something began to stir inside of you, and you couldn't place your finger on it. It almost felt... unworldly.

And that feeling continued... even when you ended up facing Thranduil, who was so puzzled at the fact that one of his own kind was helping those dwarves...

"I am repaying a debt that I owe to Gandalf," You explained, your head jutted up high into the air.

"What a terrible way to repay it, (Y/N)." Thranduil grimaced, "If you wanted an opportunity to keep yourself occupied, you could've turned to Legolas and he would've found you a wonderful position among my kingdom. We could use elves such as yourself, you know."

"Ah, but I could not say the same for you," You bit back, noticing the way his eyes widened at your audacity.

Word of your defiance quickly spread to the dwarves as the elves guarding them gossiped about it with such eager interest.

It fell onto Thorin's ears.

He almost thought they were lying to him. He couldn't believe it.

And as you passed Thorin's cell to enter your own, much farther away from the dwarves, you noticed something different about him.

He was smiling at you, a twinkle in his eyes. He seemed... proud? Ecstatic?

When the company and you had escaped via the barrels, you had almost hit a rock down the river. It was surreal to see the way Thorin's hands stretched out to warn you.

It seemed as if he cared.

You took a daring risk to climb off the barrel to kill some orcs, almost slipping across the branch in the process as you jumped back into your barrel.

"Be careful, elf!" Thorin cried out, "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"And what does it matter to you?" You snapped, furrowing your brows.

He did not respond.

He did not need to.

Because you sort of knew the answer by the way he glanced back at you with a soft smile.

You mattered to him.

More than reclaiming the Mountains? The answer was obviously no.

But when you climbed up and watched him excitedly open the hidden entrance to the inside of the Lonely Mountains, his eyes flashed towards you for a split second.

As if he was waiting to see your reaction as well.

And when you gave in and smiled.

With or without the gold, the Arkenstone or the throne,

He felt as if he was the richest dwarf to ever live.

You mattered to him.

He mattered to you.

And thus began, the love between an elf and a dwarf.

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Incomprehensible's Chapter 330

New title - 42. Me?

Brief summary: Cale's allies waited for news of DHB. Raon introduces egg Eden to everyone. Cale explains to his allies about the game world, Eden's situation, and his plate.

==========

Today had lots of funny moments. First up was Eruhaben. He was thinking about how he always treated DHB as a kid even though DHB was the third oldest among Cale's allies. So Eruhaben decided that from now on, he should now treat DHB as an adult and an equal...

Imagine his shock when he meets DHB as... a dragon egg. 🤣🤣🤣 Eruhaben stood there for a long time, dumbfounded. 🤣🤣🤣

Sheritt was relieved to hear that DHB was saved, though we did not get to see her reaction upon meeting egg Eden. Meanwhile, the two kittens treated Eden as their new youngest. 🥰🥰🥰

And the way Raon introduced egg Eden Miru to everyone was like this Lion King scene:

Eden was so embarrassed at all the attention and affection he was receiving that the egg was shaking from embarrassment. 😂

When Cale explained about the game world, On and CH snitched on what Cale had been doing. 🤣🤣🤣

Cale: explains to everyone about the game world Eru: Wait. More than that-... Are you saying that you're called the Worst in the game? Cale: Umm... I didn't say that On: Yes, he's the Worst. HD: Interesting. I'll guard this place. I don't understand what you guys are talking about anyway. On and CH: He also has angel blood mixed in. Lock: Wow, he's an angel? CH: He also has demon blood mixed in. Currently, Cale-nim is the boss of the 3rd and 7th Evils among the Eight Evils. This will be of great help when fighting enemies in New World in the future. Eru: Sigh. Well, increasing your work is a talent too. Cale: feels wronged No, I didn't mean to? Cale: Really! It just happened on its own even when I stayed still, okay? Of course, I threatened the Vicious Dark Bear to get the 7th Evil. But the rest just happened without me knowing! Eru: Pfft. Narrator: Eruhaben didn't believe a single word Cale said. Cale felt wronged.

"Increasing your work is a talent too." 😂😂😂 Eruhaben stabbing Cale where it hurts. 😂😂😂 And Cale feeling wronged because "it just happened without him intending to"... 🤣🤣🤣 Cale, how can you achieve slacker life if you have a talent for increasing work? 😂😂😂

Lastly was Cale explaining on what happened to his plate... 🤣🤣🤣

Cale: I have no plate anymore. The heart and glutton inside me ate the plate full of dust. Of course, the life force of the world made this process easier. Eru: …Your heart ate it? Cale: *excitedly explains how his plate turned to dust and scattered into his blood, making his body stronger. Also how he will be fine as long as his heart was okay and his blood was flowing fine* Cale: You could say that it’s like my whole body has become the plate. Isn't that a wonderful thing? Narrator: Cale couldn't help but laugh. Cale: Hahahaha! Narrator: Then Cale laughed and realized. Cale: Hahaha…haha…ha… Narrator: That he was the only one laughing. For some reason, his allies's expressions were vicious. Cale sipped his lemon tea cautiously. And he muttered timidly. Cale: Umm, I got stronger.

Cale, I think you need to explain first about your ancient powers. I'm sure they're confused about your "heart" and "the glutton inside me" eating your plate... 😂😂😂

Then casually explaining that your plate broke so badly it turned to dust. Mila turned pale and had to be supported by Dodori. Eruhaben clenched his fist. And Rasheel looked like he was about to cry as he questioned why Cale was still alive then. 😂😂😂

Cale laughing out loud and stopping when he realized that everyone was looking at him viciously afterwards... 🤣🤣🤣 You'll be fine as long as your heart was okay and your blood was flowing? Who's the one who once stabbed his heart? Who's the one who constantly bled? You think everyone will be relieved to hear that "you'll be fine"? 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks It seems the Aipotu arc is nearing its end. The glutton priestess eating Cale's plate though... Crybaby, why are you saying she's scary when you ate it too? Anyway, next chapter will be about Alberu's call to Cale. I can already imagine him saying "You're driving me nuts" once he hears what Cale had been up to. 😂😂😂

[serene-faerie]

Fall of Númenor Dashboard Simulator

🦢 fruitofnimloth Following

I don't know what kind of propaganda everyone's been drinking lately, but some of y'all are really starting to scare me.

So friendly reminder:

We're not. Meant. To be immortal.

We already have a longer lifespan than most normal humans. Stop being so entitled, y'all.

💎 immortal-warrior Follow

How is it entitled to think that it's unfair that we don't get to be immortal? If it weren't for us, Sauron would've conquered all of Middle-earth!

We deserve immortality for kicking Sauron's ass!

🦢 fruitofnimloth Following

This is exactly the kind of entitlement I was talking about.

#my posts #the gift of men

( 23,456 notes )

🔥 priestess-of-melkor Follow

You became Melkor's acolyte to gain immortality.

I became Melkor's acolyte to

✨ fuck Zigûr ✨

We are not the same.

( 560 notes )

🛡️ lordofandunie18 Follow

CALLOUT FOR AR-PHARAZÔN

This will be my very last post.

For the sake of Númenor, I have to try and appeal to the Valar, just as Eärendil did back in the First Age. If I fail to return, I want all of my followers to pack up and prepare to leave. It's only a matter of time before this island comes to ruin.

Before I leave, I must spread the truth about the king. Though it pains me to do this, I cannot stand by and let his cruelty pass anymore. Here's the truth about Ar-Pharazôn, King of Númenor.

TW: rape, incest, domestic abuse, blasphemy against the Valar, violence.

Read more

( 36 notes )

🌾 farmgirlofnumenor Following

Okay, anyone else seriously angry about this new temple that the king's building right now???

Before anyone yells at me, I'm not a Faithful, but I'm not one of the King's Men. I'm just sick of the king's overspending on stupid projects and his obsession with becoming immortal.

There are food shortages in the countryside! People are starving to death and all the king cares about is building this temple! But all these nobles care about is immortality, and I'm just so tired of it all.

Oh, and if you come at me about how I should be blaming the Valar or worshiping Melkor, I will block you.

🌿 forest-lover Follow

Well said, my friend!

All the people criticizing you in the notes must be city people feeling so called out for spending their money on cheap makeup and fake treatments. If you feel insulted by this post, then you're part of the problem.

Quit focusing on making yourselves immortal and focus on helping your people for once!

( 150 notes )

👑 jewel-daughter-miriel Following

The storms are growing worse. The ground is shaking beneath my feet, and I can see smoke coming from the Meneltarma.

This will most likely be my last post. Númenor is lost, and there's no hope of saving it.

I can only hope that the end will come quickly.

( 50 notes )

🕊️ pelargirl Mutuals

Istg the King's Men are so entitled.

They all act like they deserve immortality because they happen to have longer lifespans than most humans.

But you're all ready to sacrifice innocent people and wage war in the south, all because you kicked Sauron's ass thousands of years ago.

You're all awful people and I hope that Eru smites you all.

#i'm so glad i fled to pelargir #to all my faithful friends still in romenna #please stay safe #vent posts #do not reblog

( 9 notes )

🦂 harad-traveller Follow

Reblog if you want a giant wave to swallow Númenor

Likes to charge, reblogs to cast!

💠 long-live-westernesse Follow

Wow, this is so rude. We literally introduced so many things to you Haradrim and this is how you thank us???

And y'all wonder why we destroyed your cities.

🏜️ deserts-of-the-south Follow

Anyways, reblog to destroy Númenor!

#entitled numenoreans

( 500,738 notes )

⚔️ soldier-of-armenelos Follow

*kicks down door*

WAKE UP BABES WE'RE INVADING THE UNDYING LANDS

LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!

( 5,650 notes )

🐋 nostalgic-numenor Follow

The coastline of Hyarrostar, before the Shadow

#vintage photos #numenor #faithful #elendili #hyarrostar #nostalgia

( 365 notes )

🐚 faithful-and-tired Following

Is it bad that I actually kinda enjoy watching Númenor sink? I mean, it sucks that my home is gone, but after everything that Ar-Pharazôn did, I'm just glad that the trash took itself out.

I hope Sauron also got swept up in that wave.

🌊 maidenofandustar Follow

Bro people are dying wtf is wrong with you???

I say this as someone whose sister was sacrificed by the King's Men. I know we all suffered, but not all of those people were King's Men!

We should never celebrate innocent people dying, or we're no better than Ar-Pharazôn and Sauron.

🐚 faithful-and-tired Following

Girl my entire family was sacrificed in the Temple of Melkor.

I really don't care about 'being the bigger person'.

I just hope Ar-Pharazôn and all of those pathetic King's Men are drowning like rats right now.

( 115 notes )

🗡️ isildur3209 Following

We finally arrived in Middle-earth. It was a rough journey, but we're all safe, if not a little tired.

My brother, wife, and son are safe and sound. However, we got separated from our father's ship thanks to the waves. Don't know what we're gonna do, but for now, I'm gonna take some time to rest and grieve for my home.

#personal #numenor

( 45 notes )

Previous post here

[lesbiansforboromir]

In a BoromirLives fanfic, Faramir must be forced to confront this line of his in particular; Whether he erred or no, of this I am sure: he died well, achieving some good thing. His face was more beautiful even than in life. It's vital to me that this is addressed. Because in Tolkien beauty is holy, they are intertwined inextricably, the holy will be beautiful.

Boromir did not live a beautiful holy life according to most, his life is not spoken of with uncomplicated worth by any but Denethor, Eomer, Theoden and Pippin (all either 'simple' or outwardly rebellious against god). But he did die a beautiful holy death, it is what most people praise him for and in Faramir's mystical dream where he sees Boromir's dead body floating down the river, this is his reaction. Boromir's corpse was more beautiful than his living body, because in death he was 'redeemed' and served his purpose in the great holy plan. He 'died well'.

This is horrifying right? It horrifies me when I read it. And I think it so concisely reveals how Faramir and many others viewed Boromir. I am essentially here to argue that this is all about piety, once again, yes I'm a one track record.

Gandalf, when hearing of Boromir's death from Aragorn, declares; It was a sore trial for such a man: a warrior, and a lord of men. Galadriel told me that he was in peril. But he escaped in the end. I am glad. It was not in vain that the young hobbits came with us, if only for Boromir’s sake.

Now, what is Gandalf saying here? Boromir did not escape, he died. Does he mean he escaped corruption? Well, no, since apparently this 'escape' had something to do with Merry and Pippin and Boromir shook off the pull of the Ring long before he was sent to find them. What role did Merry and Pippin play in this 'escape'? Well, Boromir died for them, he had too, there was no other way out of that ambush. So by process of elimination the only thing the 'young hobbits' did that was 'for Boromir's sake' was... to be there so he could die for them, right?

And remember, his death did not actually save them or really help in any way, the hobbits are still taken and the Uruk-hai's downfall has nothing to do with Boromir. In fact Aragorn squandered any time Boromir might have given him to catch up to the Uruk-hai by spending hours on his funeral. So, the death alone is what is being called 'good' here, what is beautiful. Boromir dies and that is beautiful and something to be glad for, according to Gandalf and Faramir.

But why do they think this? Faramir has his 'alas for Boromir, whom I too loved' and Gandalf laments 'poor Boromir', so they have at least some pity for him. What was 'good' to them about Boromir dying? Well we all know this one don't we, it's the accepted narrative of it all, Boromir 'redeemed' himself with this deed. He tried to take the Ring, and for this crime he needed redemption that he gained through vainly giving up his life to try and save Merry and Pippin.

But, in fact, Boromir himself has a slightly different way of phrasing it. Boromir says, of his own death; ‘I tried to take the Ring from Frodo,’ [-] ‘I am sorry. I have paid.’

He paid for it. To Boromir, in this cosmic exchange, he chose wrongly and paid for the offence with his death. This wasn't redemption, it was spiritual commerce, crime and punishment. Which is a perspective that once again demonstrates Boromir's enduring lack of 'faith' or spirituality. The powers of the west and Eru may exist, but they exist to him as forces of nature, some fact of the world we all must just live with, not something that fills him with hope or brings him nobility or meaning or a 'higher purpose'. Boromir does not want to be closer to divinity, he does not want to be beautiful or noble, he wants his people to be safe.

But of course, this is entirely opposite to Faramir's perspective, and if not downright heretical then at least unfaithful. So, when alive, Boromir cannot achieve 'beauty' in Faramir's mind, because he is unfaithful. It is only when he is dead, when 'fate' draws him into this spiritually good 'end' that sees him give up his life for a holy quest, when Boromir's life is no longer defined by him but by his death, that he can be beautiful.

And bringing this all the way back around, there are two ways you could do this in a boromirlives fic. Either, Boromir comes back but he does not look like he did in Faramir's dream. He did not pay, he is still alive to define who he is and Faramir finds himself slowly drawn into this terrible psychological horror as he realises he misses his brother's death more than he missed his actual brother.

Or Faramir needs to be confronted with a brother who looks dead to him. Boromir has come back and to Faramir's eyes he looks exactly as he did in the dream, but now this corpse moves and speaks and can no longer be confined to one perfect conceptual moment. And this also horrifies him. It is for authors to decide if this is just an aspect of Faramir's perspective, or if Boromir actually 'came back wrong' as it were, he did pay but somehow he came back anyway.

[averytinylizard]

BROKE: the noldor were wrong in wanting to leave valinor

WOKE: the noldor were right in wanting to leave valinor

BESPOKE: the valar were wrong to bring the elves to valinor in the first place

This is said because the invitation given to the Eldar to remove to Valinor and live unendangered by Melkor was not in fact according to the design of Eru. It arose from anxiety, and it might be said from failure in trust of Eru, from anxiety and fear of Melkor, and the decision of the Eldar to accept the invitation was due to the overwhelming effect of their contact, while still in their inexperienced youth, with the bliss of Aman and the beauty and majesty of the Valar. It had disastrous consequences in diminishing the Elves of Middle-earth and so depriving Men of a large measure of the intended help and teaching of their “elder brethren”, and exposing them more dangerously to the power and deceits of Melkor. Also since it was in fact alien to the nature of the Elves to live under protection in Aman, and not (as was intended) in Middle-earth, one consequence was the revolt of the Noldor.

Nature of Middle-earth, chapter 12: The Knowledge of the Valar, footnote 3.

i saw some discussion of the Valar the other day and i wanted to bring this to people's attention. i found this fascinating and almost a little shocking when i first read it and i need people to lose their minds over it with me.

i love it because it perfectly matches the way i see the valar, as loving figures who fail to understand the children of iluvatar, leading to great tragedy. however, until reading this, it never even occurred to me that this interpretation was even close to the way tolkien saw them at any point in his life.

[quinacridonered]

Rings of Power Recap - Season 2, Episode 4

ROP Recap S02 E04

Galadriel: You still mad?

Elrond: Affirmative.

Galadriel: And I have to do what you tell me?

Elrond: Affirmative.

Galadriel: And we are going on foot for no particular reason?

Elrond: Affirmative.

Galadriel: Gonna be a long trip to Eregion.

Broken Bridge: Longer than you think.

--

Homeless Wizard: There’s goats here?

Tom Bombadil: And honey! And soap!

Homeless Wizard: What is soap?

Tom Bombadil: Catch! No, no, don’t eat it.

Tom Bombadil’s Wife: *is evident*

Homeless Wizard: Who else is here?

Tom Bombadil: I could answer but I prefer gaslighting and mind-fuckery.

Sauron: Hey, that’s my thing!

--

Hobbits: Oh look! Other hobbits!

Other Hobbits: Oh look! Other other hobbits!

Probably Not Saruman’s Minions: Surrender the superfluous hobbits!

Other Hobbits: Our bloodymindedness is inversely proportional to our height.

Minions: And we are helpless before it. 

--

Homeless Wizard: Will you be my Yoda?

Tom Bombadil: Remains to be seen.

Homeless Wizard: Is Sauron my father?

Tom Bombadil: Wrong franchise. 

--

Elrond: Let’s go via the Barrow Downs. In Elvish, they are called “Don’t Go, There Are Wights There.”

Wights: BOO!

Elf #3: Holy shit! There are Wights here! 

Elf #4: I would answer but they already ate me.

Galadriel: *stab-stab-stab*

Wights: LOL

Elrond: Actually, you have to use their own weapons.

Galadriel: Nobody likes a pedant, Elrond.

--

Theo: I don’t know who imprisoned me, but I’m more scared of my co-prisoners.

Isildur: Hang in there, we’re co….

Ent Wife: FUCK! THIS! NOISE!

Isildur: And now a homicidal talking tree. Great.

Ent Wife: I shall smite!

Arondir: *speaks elvish*

Ent Wife: Or I’ll just chill with my ent husband.

Isildur: Wow, that really calmed her down.

Arondir: Elvish is very soothing.

Isildur: It’s the dental fricatives, isn’t it?

Arondir: And the diphthongs.

--

Galadriel: You still mad?

Elrond: Affirmative.

Galadriel: *ring-induced hallucinations*

Elrond: You just flashed back to Hot Sauron again, didn’t you?

Galadriel: No! Not at all!

Elrond: The lady doth protest too much.

Shakespeare: Has this line been cleared with my estate?

--

Elf #3: I hear drums.

Elf # 5: Could be a rave.

Elrond: Could be Adar’s army.

Galadriel: Can I go back to being a commander now?

Elrond: I can check with Elf Principal.

Galadriel: Take good care of my precious.

Elrond: You want me to carry your evil jewellery? What about our previous conversations indicates to you that I would find this even remotely acceptable? I don’t want to hallucinate Hot Sauron!

Galadriel: Gotta go! Orcs to stab!

Elf #3: She’s really focused.

Elrond: Eru help us.

--

Orc Daddy: A star shines upon the hour of our meeting, Lady Galadriel.

Lady Galadriel: Oh fuck.

---

More recaps:

Season 2, Episode 1

Season 2, Episode 2

Season 2, Episode 3

[stitcherofchaos]

Kidnap Fam vs Earendil and Elwing controversy: Regarding the twins

Maybe I’m too practical-minded, but I see a lot of people either supporting or exaggerating kidnap fam, hating it with all their being, or ignoring the whole ‘love grew between them’ to translate into ‘emotional manipulation, hatred, resentment… etc (being anti-canon)’. I’ll respect opinions, frankly, I really could care less about them, but it does get irritating when people throw canon away for the drama (I certainly get annoyed when extreme pro-kidnap fams fans make it all sunshine and rainbows as if it wasn’t a difficult time or situation).

By the way, I can and will say that the twins can feel emotions, they are allowed to do that. Resentment and love can exist at the same time (for only a period of time) but one or the other must fade in order for the other the linger. One has to be consumed in order for the other to burn.

But just a thought, Elrond and Elros could love all of their parents equally, no more, no less than the others. One became a healer and the other, a king, I think they came to understand their foster father(s) and their bio-parents’ decisions.

(Ay maybe I just suck at emotions and all this feelings stuff and have no idea what I’m tolkien about)

And I’m not trying to call out or bash anyone!

I saw (and wanted to share) the quote,

“if your anger burns the furnace in your soul your whole life, you will be forever cold in the grave.”(I’m paraphrasing, I can’t remember the exact quote)

I cannot imagine Elrond or Elros being resentful to the point were they are vicious or unforgiving, whether it was towards Elwing, Eärendil, Maglor, or Maedhros (I really don’t think he was involved too much but if you swing that way).

I don’t want Elros to be cold in his grave, and I certainly don’t want Elrond's fëa to be burning for the rest of his immortal life.

Then I also had the thought, 'if the Fëanorians had never committed the third, worst, kinslaying, then Elwing would have never flown the Silmaril to her husband and they would have never gotten the help of the Valar.'

I personally headcanon that it was Eru’s work at hand to have Maglor raise Elrond and Elros. Think about it, what if they were spoiled in an alternate universe? What if something worse had happened to the twins? What if? What if?

What if they didn't become who they were meant to be if it wasn't for who they were raised by?

By the way, I read LOTR, I know Elrond refers to Eärendil publicly as his father and he makes no mention of Maglor. I analyzed this in three ways. 1.) Elrond must keep (the memory of) Maglor closed off, locked in his heart rather than talking about him more. 2.) It would've caused drama in his realm and in the counsel. 3.) Elrond really doesn't care, his father is his father, that's it. Zip. Maglor raised him, but Maglor is gone now. In a way, Eärendil is more present than Maglor in Elrond's life by the third age. Elrond can physically see the star, but he can't see Maglor.

I see it in the third way mostly. Eärendil is Elrond father, biologically, so why would he do this "My 'real' father" BS? It just seems like a waste of time. Tolkien probably didn't want to confuse anyone since the Silmarillion couldn't be published with LOTR.

Remind me of that quote from Yondu, "He may have been your father, boy, but he wasn't your daddy." But I really didn't want to refer to that quote considering Peter and Yondu's relationship is not the best example to compare this cluster of daddy issues to. Nevertheless, there is a point to be made in that statement. There is a difference between relation in regard to Nature vs Nurture, and the effects of it.

I guess the whole point of this post is, the fandom tends to take canon lore to the extreme or over analyze things to the point where they're just projecting. Trust me, I've been there, done that. I've learned my lesson (I think) and I wanted to share what I've learned.

Also (this is purely opinion) I don’t think Maglor was manipulative about anything, in the book, he just didn’t come off that way, for as little as he appeared, he actually seemed to be pretty optimistic (*regarding Eärendil) and honest (*the debate with Maedhros). He didn’t try to excuse himself or get the twins to pity him. Maglor raising the twins was out of pity/mercy, yes, but love grew (like what Tolkien said). He probably educated them on the facts and encouraged them to form their own opinions, whether that costed him their love or not. Maglor did have the more accurate moral compass compared to his brothers (in the end of the book!- Put down your pitchforks Maedhros stans!), especially if he knew that the Silmaril was better beyond their reach than where the enemy can also reach it. It was an accurate moral compass, although not a big one.

Argue, agree or disagree, or discuss with me! I want to hear different perspectives or opinions on this matter.

[fili-urzudel]

Second - Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Summary: The reader realizes something about Thorin's priorities.

Part 2 Part 3

Word Count: 0.8 k

Warnings: slight cultural misunderstandings, a little heartache

"Thorin!" You called with a smile, striding towards him at your usual meeting place. It was just a forgotten, low stone wall among an even more forgotten old plot of land. But it had a great view of the sunset, and sitting against it kept the wind out on cold days. It had become one of your favorite places.

He called back to you, a faint grin accompanying it. "You're late."

"Perhaps you're early," you pointed out, jumping up to sit on the wall next to him. 

He gave one short chuckle.

"You seem preoccupied," you commented, trying to keep the comment light.

Thorin sighed through that long, angular nose of his. "I turn one-hundred years of age today," he stated. 

"I know," you said, drawing a small package from your bag. "Congratulations."

He swallowed. "It's been seventy-six years now, since I saw my home. The ravens still have not returned to the mountain."

Your brow furrowed. "Thorin, maybe it's best not to focus too much on that," you consoled. "Focus on living your life well and fully now, instead of just... waiting for that day," you said, instead of a day that may never come in your lifetime.

He didn't respond. "Here," you passed the package to him, pressing it into his palm. 

"What is it?"

You smiled dryly. "Open it and find out."

Thorin studied the round silver object. It looked almost like a ring—that meant something to most men. Or perhaps a bead—which definitely meant something to dwarves—but it was neither, having a narrow incision through it. "What is it?" He asked again.

"It's an ear cuff," you smiled. "I know that most dwarves like jewelry, but a ring or a necklace didn't seem right, and I don't know if you have piercings..." you trailed off. "So I figured an ear cuff could be a good compromise. I tried my best to sort of make it match your beads."

Thorin hoped his face didn't look as warm as it felt. 

To you, it appeared his mind was still far away from you. "Here, I can help you put it on." You turned to straddle the wall, brushing his hair away from his ear. 

Thorin tried his best not to shudder.

"Tell me about something," you requested. 

"Like what?" He tried to keep his voice even as you didn't drop his hair once the cool metal was wrapped into the shell of his ear. You ran your fingers through it instead, gently untangling the knots, your knuckles brushing his shoulder.

"I don't know, something important to you," you suggested, and he swallowed. Would he be able to tell you what hair meant to his people? To him? Would you stop? "Tell me about your creator."

He swallowed. "I suppose... Where to begin? Aule was one of the Valar, and Eru was the only one allowed to create life..."

You listened intently, humming with understanding, until at some point the sun was very nearly set and Thorin's head was in your lap. You didn't know how he had gotten there, only that you had never stopped running your fingers through his hair and he had never told you to. You thought you could stay like that forever.

"Do you remember what Erebor was like?" You asked, filling the silence after he told you about how the dwarves had only narrowly escaped being removed from existence. You felt him tense.

"No," he said, and it sounded as though he had never admitted that to anyone. "I was a child when it happened. I... I see glimpses, but... I don't remember what it was really like, aside from what I've been told."

You brushed another piece of hair out of his eyes after the wind had put it out of place. "And yet you still love it."

Thorin breathed for a moment before answering. "I do."

"You would do anything for a homeland that you hardly even remember?"

Thorin sighed, closing his eyes. "Perhaps it is not the Lonely Mountain that I love. It is my people. They deserve to have their home back. They deserve for revenge to be exacted on Smaug."

"You would do anything for your people," you said, and it was no question.

"Anything."

And me? You couldn't bring yourself to ask. You withdrew your fingers from his hair, balancing on the stones again. "I admire that about you."

Thorin sensed the shift in your tone. His eyes blinked open again, piercing blue staring into your eyes. "Have you ever had something that you would die for?"

"Die for?" You repeated softly, fidgeting with your fingernails. You gazed back at him, unable to look anywhere else. "Worse, I think. Something that I would live for."

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hello, lovely ♡ I know you just did some Thranduil smut, but I have a request for more (always more). Could I request where the female (human) reader has a snowball fight with Thranduil and it soon becomes steamy and he gives it to her up against a tree in the middle of the forest? Thank you, dear. Love your writings. You are so talented ♡

Ask and you shall receive!

Of snowball fights and other pleasures

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Human / Noblewoman from Dale)

Word count: 3.2K

Themes : Smut | Soft

Summary: Thranduil has been wanting you for a while now, but he keeps to himself thinking you and Legolas have something going on. What happens when he finds out that is not the case, and you have no attachement to anyone?

Warnings: Kissing | Penetrative / Rough sex | Sex out in the open | Fingering (fem. receiving) | Nicknames | Age Difference | First time (fem.)

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all here 

If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog. Thank you! 

There were many rules in Thranduil's life.

They all circled around etiquette, custom, and tradition; they helped govern the elves of Mirkwood. Of these rules, many were written, some unwritten, and one such unwritten rule went along the lines of, "Thou shall not covet thy son's best friend."

You were Legolas' best friend, one he made while on a trip to Dale, and yet, Thranduil desired you. He desired you from the moment he first saw you. Thranduil thought it wholly inappropriate, as he truly believed Legolas himself desired you, and he held his tongue out of respect for both his son and you. 

Alas, that was not the case, not for you, at any rate. Legolas did not harbour the feelings his father thought he had. "Eru help me," Legolas said jovially over dinner one night, "But you're such a jolly sport."

And that was all you were, Eru help you. You were a jolly sport, a good listener, his partner in crime, the sister he always wanted, and nothing beyond that. You knew it was hopeless, that Legolas never saw you as anything but a jolly sport, and would never see you as anything but a jolly sport. Even if you bonked him on the head with a large sign that said 'I want you,' he would still see you only as a friend. Oh well, you reason, you might as well accept it.

You sighed and toyed with your food. Roast duck in honeyed wine, and cooked to absolute perfection. It was too delicious to pass up, but right now, you were simply not in the mood for it. You looked around and watched the elves talking, laughing, and singing before your gaze turned to the dais. The Elvenking was there, resplendent in ice blue velvet and cloth of silver. He had been wearing his winter crown, one made to look like icicle shards and snowflakes. Never in your life had you seen a creature more magnificent, and your breath hitched in your throat.

That hitched breath turned to a soft hum when the king turned his attention to you. Thranduil held your gaze for the longest possible time, his eyes darkening in such a way that it made your skin warm and your cheeks flush. You swallowed and managed a smile. Thranduil kept his eyes locked on yours before an aide called for his attention and he had to look away.

You blink once, then twice. What was that? You thought. Why did he look at you like that, making you feel all warm and feverish? And Eru help you, why did you enjoy it so?

Your stomach growled, and the duck finally appealed to your senses. You set yourself the pleasurable task of finishing every crumb. Legolas excused himself to talk to some others and Thranduil? Well, Thranduil excused himself as well, making his way to your table. "Y/n," he kept his tone perfectly neutral, his face a hard-to-read mask. "I see we have not driven you away with our rowdy behavior."

You looked to one table, where a drinking contest had commenced. At another table, elves gathered around a pair that had been arm wrestling. "I've seen all of this and more back at Dale," you grinned when Gimli, who had also come to visit, demanded a rematch with Legolas in some contest or another. "You're not going to scare me off that easily."

Thranduil smirked and sat opposite you. He kept his attention on his lap, to stop himself from staring at you. "And how goes your friendship with Legolas?" he asked with all the airs of innocent curiosity. "I only ask because the two of you have gotten close over the past few moons."

Ah yes. Legolas. "I'm just a jolly sport to Legolas," you mutter, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Pardon?"

"A jolly sport," you murmured. "A good ear. His partner in crime. The sister he always wanted--"

"And nothing beyond that?" Thranduil swallowed as hope stirred in his heart. Yes, there was hope, and wanting, and lust as well, something that peaked when he caught you licking honeyed wine off the pads of your fingers. Visions of his lips skimming over your fingers flashed before his eyes.

You said nothing and studied him. What was that flashing in his eyes? Why did it make you all warm and feverish again, and make you yearn for more? "And nothing beyond that," you said, your stomach tying itself in knots when you caught Thranduil's eyes darkening once more. There was a sound at the back of your throat, something between a hum and a sigh. Oh, to have him look at you like that all the time, like he wanted to eat you up.

"But maybe it's for the best," you coughed, clearing your throat. You were imagining things, you were sure of it. Thranduil was the Elvenking, there was no way he felt anything for you. No. Nothing at all.

"Perhaps," Thranduil mused as he drummed his fingers against the table. "But is there anyone else who has caught your interest? Anyone at all?"

"Planning on introducing me to anyone?" You teased, but your stomach knotted up again when jealousy flashed harsh and bright in his sky-blue eyes. 

Thranduil fought for composure. Here he was, a survivor of Doriath and king of the woodland realm, caving into jealousy like an elf barely into adulthood. "If you wish," every word was a trial for him. "I will be glad to introduce you, and recommend you."

But you won't be happy about it, you reasoned. In fact, Thranduil looked like he wanted to murder the ellon who caught your attention. You bit your lip in an effort not to laugh. "But there isn't anyone interested in me, more's the pity," you say, your eyes not missing the relief in his. 

Thranduil, awash with a sense of relief he never knew possible, found himself blurting, "Actually, yes, there is. Someone who thinks about you all the time."

Like me.

Thranduil thought he only said it in his mind, but the words rolled off his lips in a whisper. You couldn't make out what he said, and you leaned in, asking, "My lord?"

The king quickly shook his head and cleared his throat, his cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. How did that just come out? He swallowed, his eyes darting everywhere, hoping no one heard or thought of questioning him. "Nothing. Truly nothing." he quickly rose. "I... Erm... Please do excuse me, y/n, a pressing matter needs my attention."

Before you could say another word, Thranduil turned sharply on his heel, his heart thrilling by what he heard. Legolas only saw you as a friend, nothing more. You were free of any attachment to his son.

By the time he reached his chambers, Thranduil realized he was grinning like a giddy teenager. He then called a soldier to him, and sent him off with a message.

..................

It had snowed that night, and the entire world was covered in a beautiful blanket of white the next morning.

You went out, fully clothed in a thick cloak to keep the cold at bay. Legolas had gone off to Dale with Gimli, and you were left to your own devices. When you reached the gardens, you found Thranduil already there, walking and taking in the wintery scenes. "Good morrow," you dipped out of respect. "My lord." 

Thranduil swallowed and tried to bring his racing pulse to an even keel. "Good morrow, y/n."

He quickly turned away and headed towards the path leading into the forest. "And how was last night? Did you sleep comfortably?"

Something compelled you to follow him. "Very comfortably, thank you. I've never slept so well in my life."

Thranduil smiled and kept walking. You kept following, your eyes taking in the wonderful stillness that enveloped the forest, your ears tingling from the sound of snow crunching beneath your feet. "I was concerned, you see," he said, as the two of you continued walking. "Not everyone likes sleeping within a cave system."

"But it's beautiful, my lord," you said, surprised he would think you'd be put off by his home. In truth, the halls were more splendid than the palace of Dale, and you actually grew up within the palace. "Why would anyone not like it?"

Thranduil turned to you, to make sure you were not lying. One look convinced him that you weren't. "It pleases me to hear you say it..."

You felt a sense of mischief growing as you took in all that pristine snow. Thranduil was a few paces ahead of you, oblivious to what was going on behind him. Just once, you thought as you quickly dipped to your knees. Just a teensy bit of fun.

"The dwarves adore it, of course," Thranduil didn't hear you pick up a handful of snow and press it into a ball. "But some mortals... Alas..."

Thump.

A snowball exploded neatly over his cloak. Thranduil stopped and turned. Another snowball hit him square in the chest with another soft thump.

"Y/n," Thranduil took a deep breath and dusted bits of snow that clung to his clothes. "What are you..."

This time, the snowball hit him on the chin, exploding in a wet spray of icy particles. Thranduil looked at you, taking in your grin, the challenge in your eyes. Overcome with a sense of playfulness himself, he tsked before picking up a ball of snow. Before you could think or even blink, a ball of blinding white hit you right in the chest. When he dipped to make another projectile, you picked up your skirts and ran off into the forest, shouting, "You'll have to catch me first!"

The challenge was like music to Thranduil's ears.

You ran and ran, giggling like anything. Thranduil could never catch up with you. Why, you already had a head start on him. And you were certain he couldn't find you, at least not for a while .So confident were you in your own success that you didn't see or even hear Thranduil until he was right behind you, whirling you around and pushing you up against a tree. 

"Hitting me with snowy projectiles?" Thranduil said gleefully as he pinned you against the tree. "And while my back was turned? Very unsportsmanlike, yes?"

Oh, how you giggled beneath him. "B-but it's such fun th-that way."

Thranduil tsked again, this time to disguise the fact that being this close to you was making his body strain against his clothes. "There will be a price to pay for this, you know," he mumbled huskily.

You narrowed your eyes even as your lips quirked upward. "A price, you say."

The heat radiating from his body started to do strange things to yours. You felt warm and feverish again, this time from his being so close to you. You wanted to reach out and touch him, to have his unrestrained self open up to you. And as much as you thought you liked him, you realized you felt nothing like this with Legolas, nothing that made you feel like your blood was heating with need. 

Perhaps it wasn't Legolas you were destined for after all. "And what will that price be, my lord?"

Thranduil narrowed his eyes, as wanting slowly hammered at his restraint. He had asked for a price. A price you seemed to be willing to pay. How much were you willing to pay? "Whatever I want, y/n."

You swallowed and looked up at him, at those beautiful blue eyes that had grown dark with need. When you ran your tongue over your lips, you heard him groan. "And," you asked, as heat pooled in your belly. "What do you want?"

Thranduil dipped his head, his lips just above the rim of your ear. "You," he whispered. Hot breath fanning over your ear made you close your eyes and whimper, made goosebumps rise all over your skin. "I want you."

You swallowed as he pressed up against you, his body flush against yours. His hands let go of your arms and sneaked up your waist; his lips skimmed over your ear. A sound rose from the back of your throat, something that felt like a purr. Warmth and wanting washed over you again, and you grabbed onto Thranduil's collar, saying, "And you shall have me, however you wish to have me."

Thranduil pulled back, his jaw clenched, his eyes burning with passion. On the next intake of breath, his lips crushed yours. 

You were pulled into a darkened tunnel of desire. Thranduil's kisses were deep, drugging you senseless. His tongue, all warm and luscious and sinful, licked and probed its way into the warmth of your mouth. You purred helplessly, your arms looping around his neck. Your body was already throbbing and aching, arousal was dripping down your thighs, and he had just started kissing you.

Thranduil was filled with greedy impatience. On any other day, he would have been slow and languorous, worshipping your body with his very breath, but today he was just overcome with the need to take. He hiked up your skirts, pulling them up to your waist. A hand callused by centuries of hunting and fighting ripped apart your underwear and cupped you between your thighs. When skilled fingers played with your already slick heat, you jolted. "Already wet for me, I see," Thranduil crooned, delighting in your little whimpers, your little noises. He slipped a finger in, moaning into your mouth as he felt your walls clench around it. He took a step back and watched as your eyes almost rolled back and your mouth opened in a half-moan. Your body trembled and trembled when a second finger joined the first, curling gently inside your warmth, making your body arch beautifully against his whenever they struck that place that could only give a woman the type of pleasure she had never felt before. He felt resistance as he pushed deeper, and his body hardened even more. He was going to be your first. And how he hoped he could be your only.

And it wasn't enough. Not for you, and not for him. Thranduil pulled out and your cheeks bloomed with heat when each of those slickened fingers slowly disappeared into his mouth, only to pop out with a soft plop. "Delicious," he crooned again.

"But will that be all?" you muttered breathily, challenging him to give you more.

Thranduil growled. "Oh, there will be more, my petal," he hissed, and his lips opened over yours again. The sweetness of his kiss washed down your throat, leaving you breathless and lightheaded. You reached out to the buckle of his belt, unclasping it and loosening his breeches. Thranduil pressed himself flush against you, caging you to the tree as you reached in and wrapped your hands over his cock. 

The feeling of you pumping his length well and truly undid him. "Fuck," he swore and bit down on your lower lip, leaving it slightly sore and bruised. He kept still, his head thrown back, his breath coming out in shuddering pants as you stroked his cock. You found a rhythm he liked, your hands tightening and releasing, a perverse feeling drowning you as you took him to the brink and threatened to take him over that. What would it feel like, to have him pour over your hands?

But that was not what Thranduil desired. Oh no. Thranduil was hungry for much more than that. "Jump," he ordered, his arms hooking tightly around your waist.

When he lifted you in one swift move, you hooked your legs around his hips, your arms gripping tightly around his shoulders. Thranduil didn't even feel the strain. An ellon such as he was able to bear so much more, and you felt like a feather to him. "Do you want this?" he breathed as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your hole. "Tell me, petal, do you want this? For me to claim your maidenhead?"

You swallowed and looked into a pair of soulful eyes. "There'd be no going back from this," you say hesitantly.

"There won't," Thranduil agreed. "But if you say you'd have me, I will be by your side always."

You swallowed, considered his words, and came to a decision. "I'd be insulted if you weren't."

Thranduil's lips turned into a triumphant grin as they sought yours again. There were no more words this time, there was no need for them. Thranduil's kiss was a sweet distraction from the discomfort and pain you felt when he pierced you with one sharp thrust. Thranduil held onto you, keeping perfectly still, crooning sweet nothings into your ear. He let you adjust to his size, and he savoured how tight and hot you felt around him. 

It was all more than he had ever dreamed of, really. Thranduil would keep himself awake at night, thinking of you, dreaming of you, your body squirming and writhing underneath his, and now, all of that had turned into reality. He started to rock into your body, grinding his hips against the insides of your thighs.

The bark of the tree rubbed up against your back whenever your body jerked with his thrusts. You were sure your back would be bruised and sore the next day, but you didn't care. You only cared about what Thranduil was making you feel, and he was making you feel so much and more.

Jolt upon jolt of pleasure went up your back, turning your bones into a watery mess every time Thranduil ground his hips against you, filling you completely to the hilt.  Your moans were muffled by his kisses, your fingers could only dig into his back. Your legs struggled for purchase against his thighs as he kept bucking into you, his pace growing fast and relentless, his body tightening with each passing second.

And yours started to feel like a tightly pulled string that was about to snap. The soft squelching noises of Thranduil's length sinking into your heat seemed to carry, but you were too drunk on his embraces to care. You threw your head back as those coiled muscles grew closer to snapping. "D-don't s-stop," you pleaded.

Thranduil growled and held you tighter, his hips slapping against your thighs. He sunk his lips into your neck, his teeth scraping at your tender flesh. Your mewls inflamed him and he grew rougher, his growls growing as your walls tightened and throbbed around his cock. "Come for me," he moaned. "Come for me now."

Your body just surrendered, shattering into a million tiny pieces. You buried your face in his shoulder, your cries muffled against his robes. Your body shook violently as Thranduil grunted and buried himself deep inside of you, his essence spilling within your walls. He shivered as your orgasm kept milking his cock, and when he finally finished, he contented himself with holding you to him.

His breath fanned over your throat as he held you to him, keeping you steady. You took a deep, steadying breath and blinked, your mind suddenly clearing as a problem lay before you both. "L-legolas..." you panted. "What... What are we going to tell him?"

"He already knows," Thranduil mumbled, his chest still heaving against yours. "I spoke to him last night, and he gave me his blessing. That's why he went to Dale, so you could decide for yourself without being fogged up by his presence."

Your lips tugged up into a grin. "Trust you to leave nothing to chance."

Thranduil smirked and set you down gently, helping you fix your clothes, your hair, and setting himself to rights. "I never leave such important things to chance. That is why I'm the Elvenking."