#gondorian ladies are great

[ass-deep-in-demons]

✦ Seeing White ✦

Fandom: Lord of the Rings Genre: slice of life, comedy, romance Characters: Faramir, Eomer, Boromir, Eowyn, Lothiriel, Legolas, Merry Rated: G Length: 3119 words, one-shot

This work is dedicated to @emilybeemartin and directly inspired by her art, and also these recent posts circulating in the Boromir fandom: [slutty white shirt] and [rain soaked Boromir].

I am tagging the folks who got tangled in the Wet Shirts Shenanigans: @sotwk, @scyllas-revenge, @thetempleofthemasaigoddess, @konartiste, @emyn-arnens, @nihilizzzm, @emmanuellececchi. If you didn't want to be tagged I'm sorry, pls ignore :)

✦✦✦

Minas Tirith, 1st of Lótessë 3019 TA

Yes, thought Faramir. This is a great idea. The Ladies will be thrilled.

The day was perfect, too. From the windows of his chambers in the Citadel, all across the White City Faramir could spot the many signs of the long awaited Spring. Together with the verdant Gondorian flora awakening to life after the months of darkness and cold, so, too, were the people of Minas Tirith rising from their knees past the indignity of War. Just as the trees were dressing themselves up in colourful bloom, so were the inhabitants of the old Minas Anor decorating the streets for the impending coronation of their new King Elessar. The merchants, like wandering birds, were returning from distant lands to their abandoned shops and stalls, striving to make up for the losses sustained recently by the Gondorian economy.

It was, for Faramir, self-evident that such a day would be best spent in the Archives of the Grand Library. Granted, if it were for Faramir to decide, all days would be library days; this day, however, was especially well-suited to that purpose. Having the confidence of the palace wait-staff, through careful intelligence he had ascertained that Lady Eowyn, the bold and beautiful sister to the King of Rohan, had today off. It would be delightful to guide her through the collection of scrolls depicting the Fall of Numenor - Faramir could not imagine more romantic circumstances. If not his humble person, then the priceless works of illuminatory art would certainly impress the White Lady.

There remained the question of propriety, naturally. Here, too, he had both luck and days of prior careful planning on his side. Out of all of the birds flocking to Minas Tirith after the thaw, perhaps the most colourful (and certainly the loudest) was his little cousin Lothiriel. The lass was come from Dol Amroth with her brothers to join the upcoming celebrations. This was her debut among the Minas Tirith nobility and so Boromir and Faramir were expected to escort her on occasion, as a courtesy to their uncle the Prince.

What a splendid opportunity to marry duty with pleasure: give his young cousin a lesson in history and spend time in the company of the White Lady. The White Lady in the White City - such an occasion called for the whitest, most pristine of his shirts, and also his best doublet. On this day he was allowed a bit of vanity and he was quite pleased with the results, when he checked himself in the mirror one last time.

Faramir left his chambers and descended to the Courtyard, where he was met with the view that had never failed to cause a pang in his heart, ever since the tender years of his boyhood. In the centre of the sun-bathed plaza, on an islet on the Fountain grew the White Tree of Gondor. In the past, its name referenced its lush white bloom, the beauty of which, if the legends could be trusted, was an echo of the mythical Trees of Valinor. For centuries now the name had only been associated with the Tree’s dry and dead white wood, from which the bark had long been peeled off by the weather. Nary a bud had been spotted since the long gone days of Steward Belecthor.

On that day, though bare as ever, the Tree did not stand there all alone. Under its branches, seemingly caught up in his thoughts, the young King of Rohan was strolling and admiring the Fountain. Faramir, who himself had never been to Rohan, had met Eomer King only recently, in non-too-happy circumstances. All the Lords of Gondor had had the honour of attending a vigil around the bier of the old Theoden King, who had fallen in the Battle of Pelennor Fields. Even though several weeks had passed already since that ceremony, the shadows of the battle past could still be spotted lurking on the noble face of the Horse Lord Eomer. Still, his good humour seemed to be gradually returning to him, if the sharpness of his gaze and the healthy colour on his cheeks were anything to judge by.

The young King of the Rohirrim was, coincidentally, just who Faramir needed at that moment, as without his blessing Faramir’s plans would all be for naught. The matter needed to be carefully broached. Luckily, Faramir was nothing if not subtle.

“Eomer King!” he hailed and politely inclined his head in greeting.

“Just Eomer would suffice,” said the Man of Rohan. “My brother Theodred bore great love for your own brother and always hosted him gladly at the Golden Hall. For all the stories I’ve heard about you growing up, I feel as if we were best friends already, Lord Faramir.”

“And who am I to spurn the friendship of a King?” said Faramir and smiled. “Eomer, then, and you must call me by my name as well.”

“Do you think it will sprout leaves again?” asked Eomer, and Faramir understood that he was talking about the Tree. “You know, after Aragorn’s Enthronement?” This did seem too good to come true. Even though from under the Tree’s roots water continued to spring and feed the Fountain, it was difficult to believe that the dry branches held even one drop of sap.

“That, I would want to know myself,” said Faramir wistfully. He felt gooseflesh erupt on his arms at the thought that he might yet witness the Tree blossom in his lifetime. “I would very much like to see the face of my brother, when that happens,” he added quietly.

“And how fares your brother?” asked Eomer. “I’ve heard he’s been through an ordeal during the War of the Ring.”

Faramir hesitated. An ordeal would be an understatement, he thought. Boromir was not himself ever since he’d returned from the War. Faramir could see right through his brother’s facade. He had been pushing himself to the limits, working day and night like a madman. But Faramir was loath to share his worries with Eomer just yet, so he opted for a diplomatic answer.

“My brother is dedicating his every effort to the betterment of Gondor, as was always his way,” he carefully admitted. “I don’t think he’ll allow himself a moment’s respite until Aragorn is seated on that throne, at last. Thank you for your concern, thought. The sentiment is much appreciated. In fact,” Faramir grimaced, “it is rather I who ought to be enquiring about the wellbeing of your Lady sister.” He looked at Eomer and saw the man’s features soften at the mention of Lady Eowyn.

“She is better than I could have hoped for,” said Eomer with a tentative smile, “in part thanks to your patient encouragement, back in the Houses of Healing… for which I am much obliged, by the by. Of late, she’s been out more. I deem it a good sign.”

“That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Faramir, and then he quickly checked himself. “Erm… I mean, I’m glad to hear her spirits have improved…” He gathered his courage. “In fact, I am grateful for the opportunity to talk to you on this very matter. You see, I’ve devised a plan, which needs but your approval…”

“A… plan?” Eomer echoed, visibly apprehensive.

“Indeed. I’ve been meaning to take my little cousin Lothiriel to the Archives of Minas Tirith today, to show her our priceless collection of painted scrolls. Perhaps the Lady Eowyn could be persuaded to join us. It would be good… for her moods, I mean!”

Eomer raised his brow at that.

“Now that is a peculiar coincidence. You see, I had planned to take my sister out for a horse ride today, and I was meaning to propose that your cousin Lothiriel would join us in this entertainment. The other day, during dinner, she mentioned her interest in the steeds of Rohan…”

Faramir frowned. His carefully devised plan was now falling apart for this new development. Though he had started his riding lessons as soon as he had learned to walk, aware of his strengths Faramir knew: he had a far better chance at impressing the Lady with his wits than with his equestrian prowess. This matter with Eomer King required a subtle approach. He decided to try dissuasion.

“Curious, indeed. Last time I witnessed my cousin in the saddle, she fell off and broke her ankle. She has been wary of horses ever since…” Faramir mentioned casually. Granted, Lothiriel had been seven when that happened, however Eomer did not need to know that.

This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. A vein on the Horse Lord’s temple started pulsing, Faramir noticed.

“And you, my good man, do not know mine sister, if you think a day among old parchment could ever improve her mood,” Eomer bit back.

Faramir felt a wave of hot anger roll through him. Eomer’s comment stung. Was it possible that Lady Eowyn, so eager to listen to his tales of Gondor’s history back in the Houses of Healing, could indeed reject his offer of a good time in the Archives? Reluctant though he was, he had to admit: where she was concerned, his usually clear mind became clouded. For the first time in his life, emotions made him doubt his better judgement. Eomer, however, seemed to be faring no better, judging from his face, which was getting visibly… flushed?

“Hold on, Eomer…” Faramir put two and two together. “You mean to… spend time with Lothiriel? You do!” Now this sat ill with Faramir, who was used to thinking of his cousin as a little girl, and not a woman grown, ready to be courted. “Have you any idea how young she is? Barely seventeen, I’d wager!”

Eomer levelled Faramir with a deeply unimpressed look.

“You’d loose, too, for she is twenty, and I am eight and twenty! Which is perfectly respectable, and also none of your business. The Lady’s father, the Prince of Dol Amroth, has already consented to my courting her,” siad Eomer icily.

Faramir felt momentarily mortified about his outburst. Ah, this was bad. Of course the most pressing matter for Eomer right now would be to marry well, and of course the noble, beautiful and now decidedly of age Princess Lothiriel would be his intended. And if that were so, then Faramir might have just offended his prospective brother-in-law. Still, he was convinced he could use this unfortunate situation to his advantage.

“He has? Oh, that is well then. I wish you all the luck with securing the Lady’s favour. Unfortunately, my uncle Imrahil has also already approved of my plans to take Lothiriel for a history lesson to the Archives today. You are most welcome to join us, if you will. As is the Lady your sister, with your approval,” he added hastily, hoping to repair some of the damage caused by his ill-advised words.

“Denied! I am taking my sister for a ride today, and that is that,” said Eomer, who seemed to have taken offence from Faramir’s questioning of his motives regarding Lothiriel.

“I beg, Eomer, reconsider…” Faramir began, but then something strange happened. He felt a firm shove upon his shoulder and the ground was abruptly swept from under his feet. He flailed his arms, but that did not avail him - he toppled over the edge of the Fountain and…

SPLASH!

Next he knew, he was taking in a lungful of its fresh water. When he emerged to the surface, sputtering and coughing, he was met with the sight of his brother, who took his place next to Eomer at the water’s edge. Boromir was fresh past his training, already out of his plate, only sporting an unbuttoned surcote over his shift. He was flashing his teeth in a wide grin, his arms crossed cockily over his broad chest.

“Of course it is you, brother,” said Faramir somewhat bitterly. “I see your signature subtlety has not left you over the course of the War.” He could not stay mad at Boromir for long though. Not when his moments of good-natured mischief and levity, so frequent before the Ring, were now so few and far between.

“Forgive me, little brother,” said Boromir, affecting solemnity, “but only you could have thought taking a Lady to the library would serve you well. As your elder it is my duty to tutor you in the ways of women.”

“Hold on, he wanted to woo my sister with books? Hahaha!” Eomer was in stitches about the concept. “Oh, that is rich indeed! Wait ‘till she…”

SPLASH!

Eomer landed in the Fountain right beside Faramir, giving out a most undignified squeak. This did serve to improve Faramir’s mood a great deal.

“Only I get to make fun of my brother,” said Boromir, putting his hands on his hips. “King or no king, you’d do well to mark that, young Eomer! And you will not be telling your sister about any of this. She would…”

Faramir rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed under Boromir’s bulk, as the elder brother, too, inevitably hit the water with a great -

SPLASH!

“Do not presume to speak for me, Boromir of Gondor!” warned Eowyn, towering over the three of them. “And you too, brother! I am perfectly capable of managing my own affairs, thank you very much.” She had pushed Boromir into the Fountain with such effortless grace, and told both of Faramir’s tormentors off without a hint of hesitation! She was perfection, Faramir knew. Had he not been in love with her already, he would have fallen head over heels for her at that moment. “I would be glad to join you for a tour about the Archives, Lord Faramir,” said Eowyn, and honestly, it all seemed too good to be true.

“I have never seen you pick up a book in your life, sister,” said Eomer, “save to throw it at our tutor.” He pushed his wet hair back from his face and attempted to stand up, only to slip and plop down once again. 

“Slander!” cried Eowyn, and the most beautiful blush crept onto her face. “I love books! I definitely have read a lot of books in my time! And I happen to take a great interest in the history of Gondor, of late,” she fumbled visibly, which only added to her charm in Faramir’s eyes.

He stood up and shivered. His elegant brocade doublet, which he had picked especially for this occasion, was now entirely ruined. He hastily shook it off, not wanting the richly coloured fabric to stain his white shirt underneath. He wiped off the water from his face, and finally deeming himself presentable (for a given definition of the word) addressed the Lady.

“I would be delighted to personally recommend to you the best historical monographs from our Library, my fair Lady Eowyn,” said Faramir and bowed, smiling widely. “Going through them will of a certainty take some time, but I wholeheartedly offer all the assistance I could give in your studies.”

“You know not what you have signed up for, Lady,” said Boromir, who was still sitting in the water up to his chest, and not in any rush to get up.

“Oh, I think the Lady knows perfectly well what she has signed up for,” the merry voice of Prince Legolas of Mirkwood sounded from behind Eowyn, and it was only in this moment that Faramir realised the White Lady had not come here alone. Distracted by her radiant presence, he had failed to notice the Elf, who was standing a little way off with Meriadoc Brandybuck, one of the Perians, and a furiously blushing, uncharacteristically quiet cousin Lothiriel. The three of them appeared to be carrying… hammers and chisels? Although the girl seemed to have dropped hers and focused on fanning her beet-red face instead.

“We were just off to the City, to help with the renovations of the houses on the Third Level. Master Gimli means to teach us stonemasonry!” Meriadoc supplied, excitement brimming on his features.

“Though I have noticed the Ladies are acting somewhat distracted,” said Legolas. “I wonder if they are up for the task after all, or maybe they would rather stay here and admire the views that the Citadel offers on this fine day.”

Faramir suddenly felt very self-aware. He suspected he was blushing at least as strongly as Lothiriel. Luckily, Lady Eowyn did not seem to mind, or even notice. She appeared to have forgotten his face was up here and not down there. Ah, well. A gentleman must make allowances for the sake of ladies.

Boromir looked suspiciously pleased with himself. He stood up, took off his wet surcote and shook the water off like a giant dog might, splashing on both Faramir and Eomer.

“Pardon our indecent state, Ladies,” Boromir said then, jovially. “I think we should all go and help with the renovations today. Many houses have suffered during the siege and I, for one, am impatient to start rebuilding.”

“A worthy cause! One I’d be glad to join once I get the chance to change into something dry,” said Eomer, who had just managed to get up, after a few mishaps. He put his mighty arms to use and wrung out his soaked shirt. Faramir was sure he heard Lothiriel actually squeal.

“I don’t know that you should,” said the Perian, who seemed bent on making the situation as awkward as possible. “We would get more crowd engagement with you three coming as you are.”

To this, Legolas snickered with malicious glee.

“It could do wonders for the population’s morale, true,” the Elf mused. “Alas! We’d get plenty of volunteers, but very little actual work done, I expect.”

✦ BONUS: ✦

“Gondor is beautiful at this time of the year, is it not, my Queen?” said Aragorn.

He was meant to be reviewing the list of guests for his Coronation, but got distracted by Arwen’s movements about his new office. Something outside had caught her attention, apparently, for she’d spent a good while gawking through the window. And his beautiful Undomiel, ever graceful and unperturbed, could only very rarely be caught gawking, and only in private. He had to assume she was not immune to the splendour of the White City, and he was well pleased that she approved of her new domain.

“Pardon?” she startled, and a faint blush tinged her alabaster cheek. “Oh, yes. The nature is in full bloom. But, I am not your Queen. Not yet, at least,” she said, and smiled a very secretive, private smile.

Aragorn suspected a hundred years would pass before he’d learn to decipher all the subtleties of her expression. He was content to just admire them, for now.

[MY WRITING MASTERPOST]

[annabawritersdream]

TOLKIEN OC WEEK 2024-DAY 3

Prompt: Alternate Universes

Title: An arranged marriage

(Pairing=> Faramir x OC)

!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR MY MAIN WIP THE LADY OF ITHILIEN!

(link in general masterlist)

Synopsis/Context:

Year 16 of the Fourth Age of the Sun.

The Steward of Gondor takes a new wife. Éowyn of Rohan—his first wife and mother of his daughter Elenna—lies entombed in her native land, as she died giving birth to their son Elboron five years prior. Despite her heroic actions during the War, the Lady of the Shield-Arm had always been looked down upon by her Gondorians contemporaries and her daughter, who happens to be betrothed to Crown Prince Eldarion, has been subjected to mockery, derision and even physical abuse (often due to jealousy) because of her mother's perceived inferior status. Gondorians deeply despise the people of the Riddermark and Elenna is worried her brother—Éowyn's spitting image—might one day be treated even worse than she is. In her mind, Elboron needs a new mother. A Gondorian mother. She and King Elessar arrange Faramir's marriage to Finduilas, the youngest daughter of Angbor the Fearless, lord of Lamedon. Faramir and his new bride have barely spoken to one another and Angbor only accepts Aragorn's arrangement because he opines his daughter needs to marry (she had previously rejected all of her suitors and, at nearly thirty, is still unmarried which is cause of great shame in Gondorian society). Angbor sees this as a golden opportunity, a blessing from the Valar and the two of them are betrothed at once.

They don't know one another and they don't love one another. Faramir is still in love with his late wife and only accepts to marry Finduilas for his children's sake.

Here is an edit which sums up the circumstances of their union.

This is how I imagine them to be on their wedding day. A pretty miserable affair. She's attracted to him but she's afraid she won't make him happy and he's deeply unhappy because he is essentially getting married against his will.

They will eventually fall in love (though I suppose Faramir will always be in love with Éowyn) and will have two children, Faelivrin (named after her mother and grandmother) and Eradan. [Both of them are OCs].

I like to think of Finduilas as a slightly more refined version of Éowyn. Sophisticated, educated but also fierce and headstrong.

Here is a solo Finduilas edit/moodboard.

The silver dress you can kind of see in the moodboard is how I imagine her wedding gown to be like.

Fancast is Laura Berlin from the tv show Vikings: Valhalla.

The Lamedon banner and the one of Minas Tirith, which I used them in the first edit. You can see them in their entirety down below.

I really like the colors and I think they complement each other pretty well.

Additional tags:

@tolkienocweek

@lucifers-legions

@emmanuellececchi

@saurongorthaur9

@evenstaredits

@a-world-of-whimsy-5

@cilil

Since I plan to be writing about them very shortly in my main wip The Lady of Ithilien, I thought I would share a few edits and keep what I have written for the actual fanfic. 😊

I think it's reasonable. Thank you for checking out this post and please let me know what you think!

[sotwk]

Breathe (Boromir x unnamed OC)

Summary: You have harbored a deep, secret crush on Boromir for years, and have now been asked by him to dance.

Word count: 1.5k

Content: Romance, pining, yearning, longing (you get the point) Regency-inspired dance, fluff, started as a drabble but got way out of hand

Warnings: None

To Read on AO3: Link

A/N: This was supposed to be a Dance of Romance + Scars from @fellowshipofthefics’s January Trope Roulette, but the “Scars” part just never came out. Whoopsie. I guess I can’t claim credit for fulfilling the challenge, but FotF can claim credit for providing the prompt!

Update: This one-shot has been formally upgraded to the prologue of a multi-chapter Boromir x OC fic. More to follow soon!

Dedication: For @scyllas-revenge, a fellow Boromir stan whose talent I admire. My first ever Boromir fic is just a small thank you for being a cheerleader to me and other writers.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphicsphics

Breathe

Third Age 3008

Minas Tirith, Gondor

“I cannot breathe,” you whimpered to Anarlas, grasping at the sleeve of his tunic as he guided you from the edges of the crowd towards the center of the Great Hall. 

But your brother knew you too well and merely chuckled at your dramatics. “That is a bit problematic, given that a good air supply is necessary for dancing." He felt you pull back in resistance and stopped to examine you closely. "Do you really not wish to do this?" he asked softly. "Should I not have accepted the invitation on your behalf?" 

You stared up at him, wide-eyed as you struggled to process the last two minutes. One moment you were puttering back and forth aimlessly behind the pillars, content at the fringes of all the merrymaking, with just a cup of wine and your daydreams for company. All of a sudden Anarlas appeared and asked you to come with him, which you did in full trust…until he started to lead you into the noise and commotion instead of saving you from it, dashing your hope that he had decided to go home early, as you had implored for from the start. 

"There must be some mistake," you stammered. "Perhaps you heard him incorrectly." 

"The Captain was clear about his request. He could not have spoken more plainly: ‘Might I ask your sister for a dance?’.” Anarlas squeezed your arm and grinned. “And since he knows well that I have only one sister, there can be no mistake.”

You bit your lip before you could blurt out a ridiculous argument, that you still believed it possible Lord Boromir had you confused with some other woman. What other explanation could there be for him asking for you? On the evening of a kingdom-wide celebration, when every fair lady in Gondor was clamoring to gain even just a few moments of his attention? Who were you? Just a produce vendor with your own little stall in the lower markets of the White City. 

Your family, at least, was worthier of note. Your brother served directly under the Captain of the White Tower, and your father had been an even closer friend to him. He had trained the Steward’s young son in swordsmanship before falling in battle almost twenty years ago. You had been a mere infant then, still nursing at your mother’s breast. Then a few short years later on a particularly harsh winter, your mother succumbed to consumption, leaving you with Anarlas. 

Perhaps that was the logical explanation. Lord Boromir was granting you, a poor Gondorian orphan, this kindness in honor of your gallant father. Why he chose this particular occasion to do so, that was the greater mystery. 

Anarlas chucked you under the chin to call back your wandering mind. “You look beautiful,” he said gently. “If you ever wonder what Mother looked like, just find yourself a mirror.”

Hope bloomed inside your heart at his words, hewing through the shadows of anxiety and doubt. You wore her dress that evening, the finest article of clothing in your wardrobe, and had been delighted to discover you had finally grown up enough to match her womanly form and fill out the bodice properly. 

“If you refuse to believe in yourself, then believe in me,” your brother added firmly. 

Confusion knotted your brow, but before you could ask his meaning, someone cleared their throat behind you. 

“Forgive my interruption…”

You froze at the arrival of this voice, one you knew intimately despite having had barely any conversations with it. It was the light in the sweetest of your dreams, a sound you committed to memory, plucked from many years of brief and often stolen encounters. Public speeches, overheard conversations, and precious greetings from the incidental crossings of your paths. 

“My lord Boromir." You dipped into a curtsy, tightly clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress as you willed yourself to channel her reputed grace and poise. 

“My lady…” He bowed to you and spoke your name, ending all doubt of his familiarity. As it rolled off his tongue, the joy that thrilled inside you bolstered your meager courage.

Your mind had already sailed to the clouds and did not register whatever he else might have said or asked. But when he stretched out his hand for yours, instinct and years of pining took the place of thought and good sense, and you slipped your fingers over his, giving your consent. 

The crowd parted to give respectful berth to the Son of the Steward as he led his chosen partner to the dance floor. Boromir released your hand to take his place on the side of the men, leaving you to stand with the rest of the women. Open stares of scorn and envy fell upon you, beating at you with silent hostility as you waited for the music to begin. 

You wrenched your tearing eyes off the ground, and in trying to force your chin up high, you caught sight of Anarlas standing down the line of men. The love and pride that shone on your brother’s face revitalized your shaky confidence. Believe in yourself, you could imagine him saying. He tilted his head in a pointed signal.

Your gaze shifted to the right and fell straight upon Boromir, and found him staring right back at you, lips slightly parted. The second your eyes locked, he startled, caught off guard. His stare collapsed to his feet in discomfort and, to your amazement, he appeared to blush.  

Your breath hitched and you pursed your lips to stifle a giggle that escaped your throat.

The music started. A slower tune, one familiar enough for you to coax the steps from your body’s memory. You loved to dance and did so as often as you could, but your shy nature limited your audience and partners to only Anarlas and yourself. 

As the two lines stepped forward to begin the dance, Boromir raised his eyes to you again, defiant of his own embarrassment. As you glided by him in the first pass, you offered him your soft smile. His features immediately relaxed, and his lips curled back upwards, making you shiver.

You twirled and turned back towards him, reaching out with both hands. As his thick, calloused fingers encased yours, you thought you heard him draw a tight breath. Your own heart thundered madly in your chest as his light grasp slipped away once more.

As the spinning and swaying carried on, every reunion of your hands dizzied you with tingling, while each departure from his touch struck in pangs of yearning. The bittersweet longing you had borne for him from afar and for so long now surged sinfully into profound craving. For his touch, for his gaze, for the very warmth of his body next to yours.

His eyes never strayed from you, even as the routine separated you over and over. They were storm-grey, you realized, confirming what you had always fantasized but never truly saw. After every turn they quickly sought out your face again, as though ravenous for the sight.  

When your hands joined for several prolonged beats of the song, you heard him murmur your name. In mindless insolence, you returned the favor and addressed him in kind. 

“Boromir…”

His fingers suddenly closed around your hand, trapping and enveloping it and preventing you from slipping away again. With a soft tug, he urged you close and cupped his other palm on your hip, stalling you both in the middle of the floor. 

“I…” You braced your hands against his chest, summoning the last dregs of strength in your legs to support yourself, when everything else within you begged to melt in his arms. 

His hold around you tightened in painstaking slowness, as he ascertained your approval, watching for signs of objection that you never showed. The only distance that now separated you was his towering height, which he breached by leaning down, closer, closer, until you were drowning in his nearness, and felt the sweep of his sigh on your brow, the graze of his nose on your temple. Long dark lashes fluttered over those keen grey eyes that now seemed dazed with the wonder of you, of this moment.

Valar, he was more beautiful than anything your imagination ever conjured over the years.

“I cannot breathe,” you finally whispered. 

A chuckle rumbled from his chest and his hands rose to cradle your face. "I know exactly how you feel.”  

His thumbs savored the soft skin of your cheekbones, his fingertips explored the delicate shells of your ear. His ministrations were almost enough to eliminate all awareness of your surroundings. While the music carried on, several other couples had finally stopped to gawp at the Captain of Gondor's scandalous display. But for once in your life, the unspeakable, glorious joy that overflowed in your heart simply left no room for concern of anything or anyone else in the world.

“Perhaps we should continue this outside," Boromir suggested, his voice heavy with a promise that ran goosebumps through you. "Where we can have all the air we shall need.”

Tags: @aduialel @fizzyxcustard (Sorry if I missed anyone; I have no formal tag list but will likely put up a tag request form soon!)

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Thanks for reading!

[streets-in-paradise]

Courage

Relationships: (Platonical) Eowyn x (Fem)Gondorian!Reader / Eowyn x Aragorn (crush talking)/ Pippin x (Fem)Gondorian Reader

Warnings: Use of she/her pronoums

Summary: As a prelude to the celebrations on the victory over Saruman, the ladies of Rohan and Gondor participate in a simple encounter that seils their friendship validating each other's feelings in dark and lightfull topics concerning their hearts.

Note: For my dear friend @beautifultypewriter, inspired in her Gondor Girl concept. ( If you happen to like this one, I will keep working on releasing one more going full into the idea I brainstormed to you in dms)

Even after witnessing his demise, the voice of Saruman kept haunting her mind for a while during the trip back to Edoras. Despite being warned about it, she had certainly not behaved properly when facing the evil wizard responsible for the orc attack that caused the death of her brother followed by the kidnap of the hobbits. For once, she was the one doing exactly what Gandalf told her not to do and paid the price.

As a result of her angered search for a confrontation, she made herself another target of the prideful scolding. Saruman shifted guilt with skillful rhetoric, saying it was her who failed Boromir and let him die. The charm of his voice got her heart stricken with guilt. Although he didn’t waste much time on her, his insults were precise. He called her a wild beast that in nothing resembled the grace of a gondorian lady, a standing proof of the inexorable degradation in the lineage of Numenor that the ruling of Aragorn would not fix. In his conclusion, he didn’t forget to mention that Denethor would have rather been freed of a daughter than robbed of his eldest son. 

From all those claims, he presented at least one truth. 

The reminder of her father’s indifference was the last thing she needed at that precise moment. After acquiring a modest glory in the battlefield for the first time in her young life, being forced to think of Denethor was like having the victory being taken away. Her wins were twisted into flaws, making her feel once more relegated to the obscure spot he reserved for her back home. 

Only the sweet voice of Pippin bringing her back from the self absorption as they were riding away from Isengard managed to counteract the perverse effect. Given the rushed nature of their reencounter, he accepted no one else to take him merely because he wanted more time with her. The excited ramblings from her beloved hobbit about the escape from the orcs, his adventures in Fangorn, and his involvement on the attack plan of the Ents were enough to ease her heart.

On his part, Merry didn’t hesitate on reclaiming his share of the honors while hearing the tales from close, but he also understood that his cousin was trying to impress his lady. In return, Gimli told them in a prideful tease about the bewilderment that a certain gondorian shieldmaiden had caused among the Rohirrim through her courageous acts fighting alongside him, Legolas and Aragorn in the front line at Helm’s Deep. His comments made Pippin’s impulse to present himself in an heroic light increase with his admiration of her. 

It was simply lovely and she didn’t doubt in filling him with praise until he became a blushing mess hiding behind her. At the same time, he had accidentally reminded her of how proud Boromir would have been if he could have seen them together again after performing such great actions and that thought casted the sadness away. Time for celebrations was approaching and that brought a different, simpler reminder to her calmer mind. 

Until then, the people of Theoden had only met one side of her. Precisely the one she had forbidden at home, since they knew her as the warrior maiden of the Fellowship initially playing wolf on sheep’s clothing for Wormtongue only to reveal herself moments later. Since that fight the situation allowed her to never get back in disguise. The refined lady of Gondor once seen in Rivendell never stepped Rohan, but she thought it would be fun if she would make a comeback for the party. 

Let no one say ever again that she had no glimpses of the grace legends attributed to her bloodline.  

Presented with all the comforts that Eowyn could share with her, the transformation became an easy and midly fun previous step. It gave them time to have a good long talk together while taking part on a lady-like activity that wouldn't raise any concerns. The niece of Theoden had her own personal interest guiding a sudden want to perform feminity, one her friend knew that she wouldn't comment with anyone else. Revisiting her wardrove in the calm of her bedroom while talking of the latest events she didn't got to witness was a good start for both. For instance, she was a witness watching for her and willing to share details that her relatives didn't bother on comment to her before.

" He died doing what he loved, ... backstabbing his master. " The gondorian joked into her telling of Wormtongue's death. " Your uncle, infinitely kind hearted as he is, was still offering him a second chance. I think that worm realized he had made a strong bet on the wrong horse, but Legolas gave him no span to show the king any regrets. An arrow to his chest, quite ironical way to die considering what he did. "

Eowyn gave her a half smile, unsure of how to feel besides from a deep relief.

" His black heart craved only power, control over me."

The girl knew exactly what she meant. Her meticulous work hidding the most controversial aspects of herself from her father's sight weren't enough to keep her fame completely clean. Rumours had spread subtly, and to many men craving control those have came out as attractive. If the only daugther of the Steward was wild as the forest, every single one of them believed themselves to be the one that could tame her.

" You are free of him." She sweetly concluded, holding her hand and abandoning her sight from the beautifull garments to focus completely on her. " And we can still hate him in secret, if you wish. I have encountered my own amount of despicable noblemen in Gondor, but none of them has yet sold to the dark power hoping to receive me as spoil of war from the looting of his own countrymen. You resisted with courage, one of the kind that many soldiers in the battlefield won't understand. I do, and admire you for it. "

It was the most heartfelt compliment Eowyn had received in a good while and it was hard to explain why a surprising happiness invaded her.

" You, my friend? After obtaining glory for both of us? "

The gondorian was eyeing the blue fabric of a cute dress she was considering to choose.

A reminder of the sea, of her mother.

" Would you believe me if I tell you that your domestic feat remains more impressive to me than all my killings at Helm's Deep?" She suddenly confessed. " Being alone in Minas Tirith with Denethor would be a nightmare on itself. To that add one of my brothers dead and the other one exiled, while also having to flee from the advances of a repulsive man seeking to submit me through resignation. Inviting me everyday to accept him as some inevitable fate, remiding me I'm alone in the world ... I don't think I would have endured it as well as you did, always keeping your royal dignity."

Eowyn had sat on the bed and, dress in hand, her friend followed.

" If you think I'm strong, please look at yourself, because your strenght inspired me that night."

" In some twisted way that escapes all forseen ends, justice was served. " Was her simple reply. " Your brother and my cousin are avenged."

The garment was carefully placed at their side as the guest rushed to hug her.

" Vengeance is not over, because you are going to look gorgeous for your crush and have fun. " She mischievously whispered. " Haven't you think about it? The hatred on Grima's eyes as he was leaving Meduseld was too focused on Aragorn, and now I think I see why ... "

The rohirrim lady looked up in shamefull surprise.

" No, you don't! " She attempted to defend herself in a playfull tone, breaking the contact. " That's not true, and I don't know how it occured to you, but ..."

" But Arwen is leaving with her kind, as far as I know, so I don't see an issue." The gondorian encouraged her. " I got to meet her in Rivendell, and I meet her father ... If I had one as wonderfull as Elrond, I would too seek to follow him. Besides, you are my best friend and Aragorn has become like a brother to me. if a mortal woman shall eventually come to cure his sadness, I would rather her be you. "

Her eyes were shinning with hope, but not only to the kind voice inspiring her yet a third kind of courage to face her growing feelings for the Ranger.

Loneliness fading, like ice slowly melting, to the certainty of knowing she had found a friend. Another presumably lonely young woman, at least in terms of companionship that could be found of other women, who had so quickly shifted such strong affection towards her.

" As my beloved friend that you are, I beg you not to feed my dreams so soon."

" Allow yourself to dream for a while, you deserve it" The foreign girl insisted. " If things don't work as we expected, we will deal with that later ... Together. "

She liked the sound of the last sentence, but kept her objections.

" How? Do you know the cure for a broken heart? "

" Let that brave heart of yours to take the risk, not only by the blade its strenght can be measured. " The gondorian concluded, then kissed her forehead. " If turns out my brother of the sword is not the one, I still have one more blood brother to introduce you to. And if you don't like that one, I'm pretty sure Merry has no hobbit lass waiting for him at the Shire. "

Her positivity and will to comfort her ended up getting a few chuckles out of her. Not exactly because of the jokes, but due to the happyness she found in her insistent support.

" I believe your love for the halflings is starting to put Gandalf's to shame."

The called out lady smiled, clearly on remembrance of her own infatuation.

" One stay in Rivendel and days of travel on our quest was all it took for Peregrin Took to win me over, and he wasn't even trying. " She began to tell. " There are some men of Gondor that think not much different from the says of Saruman about me: a wild beast, only to them I'm a fair one ... And all wildeness is up to be conquered and rulled, owned to make use of. They approach me like a mare in need of taming, thinking they will perform the miracle of my submission. Do you understand now how could I have fallen for one of hobbits that released the forest? "

She could have continued, but no more words were needed to make her understand the core of her reasoning on her feelings.

" Wouldn't you prefer the green one?" Eowyn pointed out, regarding the dress choice. " In homeage to Fangorn, and your love."

[scyllas-revenge]

I've been encountering post comments of people flipping out over the Bridgerton S3 teaser clip where Anthony sneaks a kiss on Kate while dancing in front of the ton. It made me realize that Boromir was quite bold and brazen with the way he interacted with Reader (Aerdis) in "Breathe".

Getting so close and intimate, publicly, with a lady who was not his wife or even anything?? All the pearl clutching!! 👀😂

Real question, though: what are your thoughts, opinions, or headcanons about social protocols and restrictions in Gondor/Minas Tirith regarding interactions between unmarried men and women? Do you see it as a climate similar to the Regency Era, or something less restrictive? I guess it wasn't super conservative, considering the Farawyn public canoodling... unless that was a great scandal in itself. 😂

Oooh I love this question! (and I'm so excited for Bridgerton S3!!) Here are entirely too many of my thoughts XD

You know how much I love your Breathe fic, and I think acting a bit outside of social norms fits Boromir very well- he seems like the type to feel every emotion very intensely, and while he's very aware of social norms, he's not going to let them get in his way for long. (be still my heart, fetch me my smelling salts at once)

That being said I don't personally imagine Gondorian society to be quite as restrictive as regency-era England, just because the regency era was SO restrictive. There were SO many social taboos and particular ways you had to navigate social settings, and while I'm not an expert on them all, a lot of aspects of Jane Austen's books still stand out to me as just insane, like never referring to your spouse by their first name, even when you're just chilling at home with your kids. No hand touching if you're not wearing gloves, no dancing with someone more than twice in one setting (unless you're making your intentions VERY clear), etc. And alongside that, you get a lot of class restrictions too, like only certain pastimes being considered "proper," and everything from manners of speaking and sitting and chewing your food can mark you as uncouth and poor (I'm thinking of Emma here, and all the minute ways Emma has to teach Harriet to be an upstanding member of society. It's exhausting!).

I think some of these taboos would carry over to Gondor, like needing a chaperone to hang out with a person of the opposite sex before you're engaged, and minimal touching or displays of affection (and yes, I think the Farawyn kiss was VERY scandalous, people were probably gossiping about that one for ages lol). But some of the smaller more restrictive social norms of regency society probably don't apply (unless I want them to, for heightened drama).

Overall, I'm going to say that 1. social norms probably are bent out of whack a bit both during and a while after the war, just because people had more important things to worry about, and 2. Boromir and Faramir are a half-step away from royalty in Gondor, so their behavior probably gets a pass most of the time anyway.

As for the class restrictions, I think once again Boromir gets to bend a lot of rules here- he's probably very aware of how other nobles behave vs commoners, but I don't think he cares much and is probably a bit sick of all the hoops higher-class people have to jump through just to navigate a basic social situation. I also think that, because he's a soldier, he's more attuned to the rest of his citizens than other nobles might be. Plus he's had to cook his own meals, take care of his own horse, clean and sharpen his own weapons, mend his own clothes while on the road, etc. Nothing is beneath him by now. That was probably true for a lot of people during the war regardless of wealth or class, so I'm imagining a bit of the class division kind of dissolving, at least temporarily, after the war. Everyone emerged from it in different places with a different view of the world than when they started.

Finally, I personally really like the idea of some Ancient Roman influence on Gondor (they have aqueducts, I just know it! And I love the idea of Gondorian women wearing those Ancient Roman woven hairstyles) but unfortunately I haven't been able to find much on Ancient Roman societal norms online outside of how they approach meals (which we can tell from the books and films doesn't really apply anyway). So that idea might be a bit of a dead end.

Anyway, thanks for the ask!!! And sorry I wrote such a long rambling response, but you hit me with such an interesting question XD I couldn't help it!

[periantari]

In honor of Gondorian New Year yesterday

Faramir and Eowyn wondered at the new sign, but believed it to be a sign of good- that the Captains of the West had fulfilled their mission in the impossible way. The Ring-bearer had succeeded. And amidst sonorous song that rang through the city, the Great Eagle flew by bearing tidings of hope, and Faramir knew in his heart that Frodo had managed past the Dark Lord to fulfill his Quest. He did not know it but his face was wet from tears and he saw that Eowyn also had tears of joy gathered in her eyes. So many tension filled nights of discussing the Great Wave and Gondor succumbing had now abated.

All of Gondor was alight with song and hope. Faramir and Eowyn continued to embrace each other and Merry and Bergil joined them and laughed and had signs of relief. Their loved ones may yet make it. Merry could not wait to be reunited with his kin. It had been too long had he not seen them, and he hoped with all his heart that they were all right. Bergil hoped his father would return from the Black Gate- he was all he had and he needed him to return back alive.

Eowyn still held onto Faramir and she saw that his face was kind and throughout the days at the Houses of Healing had felt even more unexplained attachment and trust building. This was a man whom she can trust and she had seldom met a man of quality like this one.

Faramir could feel his initial heaviness lifted if not only a while, but he felt hope for the New Age even though his losses still hung in his consciousness. This Lady of Rohan was light and he believed hard as it may be– that he was meant to guide Gondor with the New King into the New Age.

[themoonlily]

Éothiriel story ideas, part x

some time after the Ring War, Éomer comes to Minas Tirith along with some of his own councillors to find himself a queen

it so happens that Imrahil's people are also in the city looking for a suitable husband for Lothíriel

Éomer is feeling reluctant about the affair and is impatient, which leads into him unintentionally causing a scene with a potential bride candidate

the lady in question wants nothing more to do with him

his councillors ship Éomer off to Emyn Arnen before he causes more trouble and scares off any other ladies

Lothíriel happens to be visiting Éowyn and Faramir (probably because she also has Feelings about the prospect of a marriage with some stranger and is trying to avoid suitors)

for some reason Éowyn and Faramir are summoned to Minas Tirith, leaving the two guests to their own amusements

these amusements include: complaining to each other about meddling councillors trying to control their lives, offering shoulders to cry on, he gives her punching lessons in case she ever gets in a tight spot with a suitor she doesn't like, she gives him advice about Gondorian women, picnics in the woods, trying and failing at fishing, falling in the river together, getting scared because of a very great thunderstorm and sneaking off to the other one's bedroom to cuddle, kissing practice, eloping together

they literally elope and inform the councillors and Imrahil's people that there's no need to continue looking for brides/husbands because they've already got married

(this all was possibly orchestrated by Éowyn and Faramir who thought Imrahil and Éomer's councillors had the wrong idea)

they live happily ever after

[marietheran]

LotR reread - book 2, chapter 6 - Lothlórien

I was never that great a fan of dwarves, but all those moments of cultural significance Tolkien gives Gimli are something*･✧

And I love the fact that he gets to see his people's ancestral realm, despite it all, and even be something of a guide to the rest of the fellowship at times.

That was in the previous chapters, but kudos to Gandalf for frequently consulting Gimli even though he ultimately had the greater knowledge of Moria

"Though Orcs will often pursue foes for many leagues into the plain, if they have a fallen captain to avenge" implies an interesting sort of semi-loyalty, even when not pressed by the person commanding it.

Mysterious Allusions to Aragorn/Arwen Counter: 2.875 (why must there be so many that might be more general, but...?)

I have decided that the bad reputation Lothlorien has among some Gondorians is, more or less, due to the fact that once in a while a young scholar will realise the Lady of the Golden Wood was there for most of history, and set out to interview her, be rather indelicate about it (this is her family, after all!) and get summarily thrown out.

"But from the West has come no word/ And on the Hither Shore/ No tidings Elven-folk have heard/ Of Amroth evermore"

Elves can forget! "That is but part for I have forgotten much". I don't know if it's common fanon that they can't, but I have met with it, and it's not true.

The description of the night spent among the trees, and the elves speaking in whispers while Frodo is half-asleep... something about it moves me.

A Lorien elf with gold hair... hmm, clearly it isn't nonexisten among the elves of Middle-earth. Lothlorien did have a population that included some Noldor (including maybe some more part-Vanyar than just Galadriel), but this seems more like it might be a silvan elf.

Aragorn's handling of the blindfold situation does cast him in a very good light.

Frodo seems to be able to look at the world with elvish eyes, here in Lorien, maybe, everything seeming both new and ancient...

"...but whereas the light perceives the very heart if the darkness its own secret has not been discovered." vs. "And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it."?

Allusions to Aragorn/Arwen Counter at 3.875. Admittedly, "Arwen, beloved" is more than an allusion, but it's in elvish so no one understands it at first.

"And taking Frodo's hand in his, he left the hill of Cerin Amroth and came there never again as living man." *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

I'm beginning to fall in love with Aragorn again.

That last quote is weirdly phrased though... does it imply he came there not as a living man? or is it just a poetic expression?

[essenceofarda]

When Fate Calls: Chapter 2

When Fate Calls updated!

Read Chapter 2 | Start from the beginning

Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth volunteers as a nurse and is assigned to the Third Marshal of Rohan's army. At first, no one takes the princess seriously, thinking she's one of those Great Lady Nurses, all show and no backbone, but she quickly proves them wrong, and Éomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark, can't help but be inexplicably drawn to the feisty princess.

Faramir is the Captain of the Rangers of Gondor and is assigned to train new recruits, one of whom is a young soldier named Dernhelm from Rohan. The two quickly become friends and comrades in arms, though Faramir begins suspecting that Dernhelm has a secret that he's not divulging. And as time goes by, Faramir can't deny the feelings he's starting to develop for Dernhelm...

Éowyn is tired of being left behind while those she cares about risk their lives for the greater good. She wishes for nothing else than to fight for her people's freedom and survival. She disguises herself as a man named Dernhelm and joins the Gondorian army, where she meets and befriends her superior officer, Faramir. Things get complicated when the two start falling in love...

WWI inspired LOTR AU.

Main POV characters: Éomer, Lothíriel, Éowyn, and Faramir

[annabawritersdream]

Gondorian OCs: The Lady of Ithilien

Calatári

DOB: FoA 28

DOD:

Lady from Dol Amroth attending Enna's school. Her maternal grandparents are from a village not far from the Desert of Lostladen (Harad), her mother shuttled between Ithilien and Minas Tirith and her father is an elf. Her name means "Queen of Light."

Title: Khatun (Harad); Lady (Gondor)

Fancast: Anya Taylor-Joy

Daron

DOB:

DOD:

Native of Dol Amroth. Son of a former soldier serving Prince Imrahil created lord following the War of the Ring. He marries Lady Tulisa of the Blackroot Vale.

Fancast: Gethin Anthony

Maira

DOB:

DOD:

Enna's maid in Minas Tirith

Fancast:

Finduilas of Lamedon

DOB: TA 3007

DOD:

Youngest daughter of Angbor the Fearless, Lord of Lamedon, she marries Faramir a few years after Éowyn's death. She gives the Steward two children: Faelivrin "Fae" and Eradan. She's Elenna's stepmom and the two of them have a great relationship. Hers and Faramir's is initially an arranged marriage, but the two quickly develop a mutual respect which eventually turns into affection and love.

Fancast: Laura Berlin

Faelivrin "Fae"

DOB: Around late FoA 16/early FoA 17

DOD:

Third child (and second daughter) of Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien. Her mother is Finduilas of Lamedon, Princess of Ithilien and Lady of Emyn Armen.

She looks up to her big sister and utterly adores her. She's basically Enna's mini-me. She adores her siblings (she has a necklace with their initials) and loves pearls. She legally marries Şehzade (later Sultan) Orhan and receives, upon marriage, the title of Haseki Sultan, thus becoming a queen of Harad (I still don't know which kingdom or province specifically)

Fancast: Isla-Merrick Lawless (child); adult fancast is yet to be decided.

Eradan

DOB: FoA 18

DOD:

Fourth child (and second son) of Faramir of Gondor, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien. His mother is Finduilas of Lamedon. He marries Aeliniel.

Fancast: Henry Proctor (child)

Jannis Niëwohner (teenager/adult)

Gilraen

DOB: FoA 3

DOD: After FoA 220

Princess of the Reunited Kingdom, first daughter of King Elessar and Queen Arwen. Her name was supposed to be Celebrían, but then Aragorn asked Arwen if they could name her Gilraen and Arwen accepted. Though she loves him, she thinks her brother is an idiot and she totally thinks Elenna shouldn't marry him. Outspoken and at times excessively blunt, she has a bad relationship with Arwen. She loves the sea and spends most of the time in Dol Amroth just to get away from her mother and her brother. She's friends with Elenna and Adanel.

Fancast: Kaya Scodelario

Lóthuil

DOB: FoA 16

DOD: After FoA 220

Princess of the Reunited Kingdom, second daughter of King Elessar and Queen Arwen. Her name means "Spring Flower". She's much more of a lady than her sister, but she too is very blunt and loves archery (both sisters are great at it). Eldarion has a soft spot for her and she'll enter Enna's service for a time.

Fancast: Marina Moschen

Meleril

DOB: FoA 19

DOD: After FoA 220

Princess of the Reunited Kingdom. Third daughter of Aragorn and Arwen. She's betrothed to Elboron.

Fancast: Mariya Andreeva

Mörwen

DOB: TA 2941

DOD: Shortly after FoA 120 (presumably FoA 122-123)

King Elessar's first cousin; her father being the older brother of Gilraen, Aragorn's mother. (that's totally another OC and I don't have a faceclaim for him since he won't even be mentioned in the story).

Gilraen (Aragorn's daughter) is extremely fond of her and spends most of her time in Dol Amroth in her mansion. Morwen married a nobleman from Dol Amroth who is deceased. She's widow with no children of her own and loves Gilraen as if she were her own daughter. She's also close to Lóthuil, but doesn't see much of the latter since Lóthuil is not particularly fond of the sea (if the two of them meet, it's definitely in Minas Tirith).

Fancast: Selen Öztürk

Maelivrin

DOB:

DOD: FoA 23-24

Lady of the court. Background for the character is yet to be decided. I only know she'll give the Herald a major trauma. Everyone calls her Maeva (she likes it way better than her given name and it's one of the many reasons why her parents nearly disown her. Not the main reason, but one of the many)

Fancast: Francesca Del Fa

Ethelia

DOB:

DOD:

Lady of the court. Born to a Dúnadan father and a Rohirrim mother, she resides in Gondor. She'll marry Selim.

Fancast: Anna Popplewell

Beregil

DOB:

DOD:

Faramir's assistant/herald/scribe/helper. He's prone to distraction and is very clumsy, but he's extremely loyal to the Steward and genuinely wants to help him.

Fancast: Angus Imrie

Imrolas

DOB:

DOD:

His father was from Dol Amroth and his mother from Lossarnach. He's Beregil's equivalent for King Elessar. He's the king's dutiful secretary, scribe, occasional helper.

Fancast: Daniel Portman

Estella

DOB: Late Third Age

DOD:

Former member of Lady Mörwen's household in Dol Amroth, she now tends to Princess Gilraen. She's the princess's governess, best friend and confidante and her only member of her household. Gilraen loves her because she feels she can actually talk to her. She loves her more than she loves Arwen.

Fancast: Burcu Gül Kazbek

Este

DOB: Late Third Age

DOD:

Princess Lóthuil's governess before she enters Enna's service in Ithilien. She's very strict but kind of loveable as well

Fancast: Burcu Güner

Galahad

DOB:

DOD:

Gilraen's future husband, a fisherman. He's from Dol Amroth.

Fancast: Alfie Allen

Devleriel

Fancast:

Annúnien

Fancast: Anita Briem

Aldariel

Fancast: Léa Seydoux

(Unnamed)

Mistress of Eldarion and mother of his daughter Aerin.

Fancast: Gabrielle Anwar

Aerin

DOB:

DOD:

Daughter of Eldarion, Crown Prince of Gondor, and [still unnamed mistress].

Fancast: Bia Arantes

Elphirion

DOB: TA 3020

DOD: FoA 22

Elenna's second husband and father to Anárion

Fancast: Richard Madden

Vairenya

DOB:

DOD:

Elphirion's mistress chosen by Enna herself.

Fancast: Rebekah Wainwright

Anárion

DOB: FoA 19

DOD:

Son of Elenna and Elphirion

Fancast: Aybars Kartal Özson (child); Archie Barnes (teenage years/early adulthood)

Giluen

DOB: FoA 19

DOD:

Daughter of Elarien and Erionwë. Half-human/half-Maia

Fancast:

Daerion

DOB:

DOD:

Crown Prince Eldarion's tutor. Born into poverty, he entered the court of Minas Tirith as a servant to Denethor, Steward of Gondor when the late Steward took him in. Denethor taught him the ways of the nobility and granted him an education.

Fancast: Aidan Gillen

(Unnamed)

DOB:

DOD:

He marries Erien, daughter of Boromir (more info to be added)

Fancast: Sam Heughan

Ivonneth

DOB:

DOD:

A relation to Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.

Fancast: Miriam Dalmazio

Tulisa

DOB:

DOD:

She's originally from the Blackroot Vale. She marries Daron, a minor lord of Dol Amroth who is friends with Elphir, Erchirion and Amrothos.

Fancast: Saadet Aksoy

[laurelsblue]

First part of my Stewards’ wives series for LLA.

Wilwarin - mother of Hurin of Emyn Arnen.

Lindissë - wife of Hurin of Emyn Arnen.

Tasarë - mother of Pelendur.

[moonrainbowfish]

Lotr and Hobbit characters I ship my mutuals with

@the-second-tonks Boromir

I've said it many times before, but Boromir would adore you with all his gondorian heart. He deeply cares for you and sometimes tells you stories about his childhood and life in Gondor. He enjoys sparring with you and he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, but should you ever find yourself in great danger, Boromir will always be there to save you. Even if it will cost his own life.

@beenovel Samwise Gamgee

This hobbit would love to be around you. He appreciates how kind and loyal you are, because he is the same. Your afternoon's are often spend with the two of you cooking, or baking for eachother, trying out new recipes and getting culinary creative with the food. He'll give you the most beautiful flowers everyday, grown in his own garden and whenever you need something Sam will always be there for you, worshipping and loving you, like you deserve.

@tolkien-fantasy Galadriel

From the moment she saw you, the lady of light only saw brilliance and greatness in you. And she really loves you, she does. Your creativity and resilience is something to admire and sometimes she can't help but smile when she sees you. Your beautiful face in her hands as she glances down into your gorgeous blue eyes and kisses you. It's moments like these she wishes would last forever, for every hour spend with you, is one of many, she will treasure forever.

@emsilverblades Thranduil

The elven king would find your strength quite alluring. It's not everyday a mortal was able to make him flustered, but you surely knew how to make him weak in the knees for you. He sees great queen/king material in you and in his mind you're already ruling over Mirkwood by his side. You'd be the heart of your kingdom, loved and cherished by everyone and mostly by Thranduil. His beloved and gorgeous Emmilia. Capable of making everyone fall for her in mere seconds.

@smelly-fozzy Kíli

Kíli would absolutely be fascinated with your colorful hair. You're a beauty and someone he thinks he'd wanna spend the rest of his life with. He'd try to include you in his pranks and he thinks you're a really jolly person to be around with. His eyes gleam like little stars everytime you tell him facts about mythology and folklore and everything you know about it. You're clever, funny and a true friend. How could this dwarf not adore you?!

@sehnsuchts-trunken Éomer

I picked the blonde horse man for you, because I remember you saying you really liked him. And looking at him I can honestly imagine Éomer falling for you too. He would love those stories you write, becoming quite intrigued with them (and you) asking if you'd like to spend the evening with him after his royal duties are over. You complete each other and Éomer would kill an entire army of orcs, just for you. I won't be long now before he would ask for your hand in courtship and maybe even marriage.

[thelandswemadeofpaper]

Kurma of Enni: a farmer and a fisherman that, alongside his oldest sons, was forced to go to war and die in the Dark Lord's name. Husband of Viya and Tenka, father of seven children.

Kurko: only surviving child of Tenka, a boy of ten and seven, one of the two youngest sons, spared from the same war that killed his father and brothers because of his age at the time. A great admirer of the history and the sea, the last one leading him to form a odd friendship with a girl that does not belong to the dry lands.

Vika: Kurko's half-brother, son of Viya. Has more of a tempestous personality and deeply resents their situation, harbours rage against Gondor and their treatment of the East, is proud of his culture and sea heritage, and desires the freedom he was denied. Has an affinity with magic, whose combination with his long-held ambition for power and revenge, however well-intentioned it might be, presents a danger for Dhurara's more friendly approach towards the West.

Kurya: only daughter of Viya and Kurma, works in her family farm. Latter called Kuhina (sea-bride) for her refusal to settle down and get married, claiming to only she will never love someone more than the sea, become a great sailor latter.

Freggo: a simple widowed merchant and former great artists. His son, Briegga, is a childhood friend of Vika and Kurko.

Dhurara: the rebel leader of the horseman tribe Karuk, is Gretta's greatest rival. A former hunter turned soldier, he is proud of his culture and wishes to mediate the hostility between the people of Rhun, allying himself with Gondor and Rohan against the dark enemy. He is a fierce man with noble ambitions, yet he might be in conflict between his desire for freedom and the moral hoes of leadership, which may risk the lives of others or use them as pawns. Later, he is called Urion, the 'fire-son.'

Gretta of Karuk: the self-proclaimed 'King' of the West, is a greedy and malicious man who serves Sauron with the intent of gaining and maintaining his position of power among his own folk. A skilled warrior and a influential lord, he is one of the generals who has lasted the longest in the dark army. Gretta is involved in dark magic and harbors an unsettling obsession with the Eldar. It is rumored that his father, Graham, killed the Blue Wizards.

Estevane: one of Gretta's wives and mother of one of his many sons, is a Gondorian noble woman exiled due to her involvement in dark arts. A cunning and ruthless woman, she shares her lover's ambitions and desires, aspiring to one day be worthy of becoming queen of the East. Ironically, her name in Elvish means 'beauty and hope.' Has the epithet of 'witch of the west' among the people of Rhun.

Araya: daughter of the strongest Chieftain of the Penthu, Lord Akkanan, is a great singer and a well-known beauty. As her lord father rose to power, an alliance was formed with the Karuk King, Gretta. She was offered as a bride, along with a generous dowry. I read the summary of Girls of Paper and Fire recently and the idea of a rebellious concubine seens awesome (I hope she murders Gretta)

Cyssa: The sharp Lady of the Shevan Clan, from which Tenka hailed before her union to Kurman. Tenka served as an ossamê —a a maiden apprentice learning the duties and customs of her role from an older relative before her marriage. Her clan is a old and respected family from the eastern tribes.

Heka, Priya, Naviya, and Peli: kinswoman of the Kurvan

The M'anglik: an intellectual group dedicated to the study of diverse knowledge about the world, including the sea, the stars, and healing arts. Its members are known as the Shariah.

I can't hardly blame Tolkien for spending so much time creating names and cultures, its so fun!

I - finally - have courage to actuallly develop the crossovers and plots I have been writing and slowy creating in my head

And making up names and customs for my favorite Arda's people (my beloved Easterlings) is awesome. I need to be careful so I don't 'sanctify' them, for lack of better words, as much some people love to make them Feminism, Queer Accepting, Not-Racist, Unflawed just like some people do in real life with Native American Cultures.

I genuine thinking about men having more than one wife like some cultures had, not that I approve or fetish it, its just...historical? In some parts of Middle-East? I just don’t want to make Arda Eastern Culture...perfect?

What I can do to make them more 'feminist' is that, since so many men die in Sauron's army, and Easterlings are mostly trying to survive in a bad enviroment, its won't be historically incorrect for women to take men roles becaus of necessity

My Easterling names and words so far

Enni:

Kurma

Tenka

Vika

Viya

Kurko

Kurya

Naku

Rutta

Nysa

Wyla

Penthu:

Freggo

Briegga

Brinna

Adhina

Kuhina

Mharai

Inra

Runa

Welfa:

Oresha

Araya

Suriki

Yefa

Karuk:

Gretta

Dhurara

Kulthan

Valko

kheda (widow)

bri (beauty)

hina (bride)

ku (sea)

van (clan)

nel (woman)

nul (man)

Nelva (literally 'house of women', the place where widows and women whose husbands are away live with their younger children and orphans)

The tribes are deeply intertwined due to the constant exterminations of their people done in the past, both by Edain and Orcs alike, many parts of their cultures were lost, but those that remained were adapted among them

Although they can no longer say they have 'nobles', each tribe is divided into clans, each one proud eith their crafts and all following the same naming system. A single syllable added to the sufix '- van', while they don't have surnames, the firstborn naturally has the syllabe in their names (like the head of Tuivan could be named Tuikan or Tuimer), in daughter or a second son's name its optional

The Karuk and the Welfa are more present in the Sauron's army than the two others tribes, for their weapon and horse skils are more prized there and, with exception of Enni's boat-building and navigation skills, the sea tribe mostly contribute by farming and fishing. The Penthu are forced to give up their elaborate arts and gifts in exchange for more useful crafts produced in mass.

However they have an upper class, those who remain wealthy and powerful despite the ruin of their homeland and its inhabitants, allying themselves with the Dark Enemy in search of glory and participating in the terrorization of their own folk

This is my first time actually writing beyond just random making ideas like that post in 2022

I still starting and I want it to be a crossover, so still in making

Easterling, a simple term, often spoken with anger, fear and mockery, soon lost his original meaning. A vast word that embraced all the folks that lived beyond the Sea of Rhun. From the wild Karuk horsemasters, the skilled artesans of Penthu with their pottery, glasses and paint, the fierce warriors born in Welfa, and those that lived and died in the cold blue rivers of Enni.

[arofili]

men of middle-earth ❅ northmen ❅ headcanon disclaimer

          Ealdor was the seneschal of Edoras, an old man in the time of the Lord of the Rings, though in his youth he had been strong and doughty, a great hunter and falconer. He served as a mentor to Háma, the doorward of Meduseld, who learned from Ealdor how to anticipate the moods of the King.           Yet this was only so helpful when Théoden King was ensorcelled by Gríma Wormtongue, the treacherous son of the much wiser and nobler counselor Gálmód. Nonetheless, Háma abided by the rules of the King’s House when Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Gandalf arrived at the Golden Hall, insisting they surrender their weapons before seeing the King. Yet in his heart, Háma was grieved at Théoden’s fall, and chose to allow Gandalf to keep his staff despite knowing of the wizard’s power with such a tool.          This decision allowed for Gandalf to throw off the enchantments of Saruman from Théoden and send Gríma scuttling back to his true master, but Théoden still could not let this oversight go unreprimanded, and Háma was temporary relieved from his position as the doorguard. Háma then released the King’s sister-son Éomer from captivity, arrested Gríma, and recovered the King’s sword Herugrim from Gríma’s hoard.           Háma was loyal to his king to the last, riding with him to the Hornburg and falling before its great gate in the ensuing battle. Théoden deeply grieved the loss of his faithful companion, and buried him in great honor under the shadow of the Hornburg, Personally casting the first earth on his grave. After the War of the Ring, Háma’s orphaned son Haleth was taken under King Éomer Éadig’s wing as his squire, in honor of his father’s noble memory.           Despite Háma’s efforts, Gríma Wormtongue fled to Saruman after Théoden’s mind was freed from thralldom, and he informed his master of all he had learned while spying for him in Meduseld. He had not been the most faithful of servants, having revealed Saruman’s double-crossing of Sauron when the Nazgûl came to Rohan, though he attempted to conceal this betrayal from Saruman. When Gandalf rode to Isengard to confront Saruman, Gríma threw a “heavy rock” at him, which was actually the palantír of Orthanc, a precious artefact, and for its loss Saruman punished him severely.           Exiled from Isengard, Saruman and Gríma travelled westward in the guise of beggars, eventually reaching the Shire, where Saruman had been quietly exerting his control under the name “Sharkey.” By the time of their arrival, Gríma had become so degraded and wretched that Saruman shortened his nickname to “Worm” in derision. Under his master’s orders, Worm killed Lotho Sackville-Baggins, and may have eaten him; yet his hatred for Saruman only grew, until it overwhelmed his fear and he was spurred to action by the words of Frodo Baggins after Sharkey’s defeat, slitting his oppressor’s throat and darting down the road. Thus Gríma Wormtongue found his final escape: not through flight out of the Shire, but into death, as hobbitish arrows found their mark, making him the final casualty of the War of the Ring.           Gríma’s dreadful actions were shamed by those Rohirrim who remembered him, but many others who died in the War were greatly honored in songs and poems. The Song of the Mounds of Mundburg honored those who fell in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, and the minstrel Gléowine immortalized Théoden King in his own song, though only the last stanza survived into history. That the whole poem was not lost was thanks to his niece Idis, a woman of the court who became a handmaiden to Queen Lothíriel. Idis was a dear friend to her queen, helping her and her Gondorian handmaidens adjust to their new life in Meduseld, and she grew especially close to Lothíriel’s friend Morwen, and after an extended courtship, the two ladies were wed in a great celebration organized by the Queen herself.

[atlas-born]

My ocs Eadrith and Auzzarg from my Middle Earth: Shadow of War fanfiction series (I’m still writing it. Will post when finished eventually).

Eadrith is the daughter of a well respected commander in the Gondorian army, sent to Minas Ithil with his family to help deal with the orc threat. Will the fall of Minas Ithil, Eadrith is captured and in her attempt to escape bumps into (quite literally) Auzzarg, an ex Feral Tribe Warchief turned Outlaw tribe founder. He takes a liking to her. Over time, with his guidance, Eadrith is trained into a warrior and discovers her purpose in battle and command, a great improvement on the boring and mundane life of a Gondorian Lady engaged to marry into royalty.

This image depicts an earlier moment in their relationship when Eadrith is more helpless, before her buff babe glow up, and Auzzarg takes full advantage of that (consensually of course).

[thelordofgifs]

In the interests of being a fair and balanced poll-maker I have been obligingly reblogging the Lothrandir propaganda through gritted teeth BUT. VOTE VIDUMAVI SERIOUSLY. She marries Valacar and then moves away from Rhovanion to Gondor and literally changes her name to Galadwen in order to fit in with the Gondorians!! But they’re all racist and oppose the marriage because Vidumavi isn’t as long-lived as the Númenoreans and they make all these nonsensical complaints about how the blood of the kings is being diluted and other gross stuff and probably are always really rude and unfriendly to poor Vidumavi :( even though the text says she’s a “fair and noble lady” and also she lives to “a great age for her own people”. Also she’s the mother of the bestest boy in the legendarium but that goes without saying obviously. Vote Vidumavi!!!

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo:

Lothrandir vs Vidumavi

Lothrandir:

Dúnadan and member of the Grey Company [Lord of the Rings Online]

Very Good Boy who just wants to vibe with the Lossoth in Forochel becomes one of the main scouts for the Grey Company. Also (spoilers) one of the most annoying prisoners in Orthanc

Vidumavi:

A princess of Rhovanion who married Valacar of Gondor. The ascension to the throne of her son Eldacar, who was hence not fully Númenorean, led to the civil war known as the Kin-strife.

married the (future) king of gondor in her own hometown. one of the most interesting romances in the wider legendarium imo

Round 2 masterpost