#letter orc in person

[letter-orcs-art]

Life imitates art...

[vera-simik]

Again, a year closer to being 30... 😅✨

[vera-simik]

Ještě jednou a lépe 😄

Takže lidi, pěkně slavte zlato a nezapomeňte poslat Reinhardovi velký fakáč do pekla

[ameliathornromance]

The Orc who you had fallen for, was the King’s personal guard! Although stern and menacing, he had always been kind to you.

You, the daughter of a Lord who worked on keeping the Queen company, answering her letters and mostly stayed out of sight of the King and his guard!

Since your families fortune was dwindling, your brothers securing marriages to rich young ladies, that made you the only one who wasn’t looked to much. Being a young woman in a family on the brink of ruin, meant that there wasn’t much for you to do other than try and get into the Regents good graces, and hope that you’d find a rich man who could take care of you.

But you’d never had such interest in men. It was always the King’s personal guard who caught your eye. Something about his stoic demeanour always made you feel safe, protected.

At first, you tried to keep your feelings a secret, there was no way that your family would approve of you harbouring such feelings towards the Orc, let alone even think about letting you marry him.

On a fateful night, where the King and Queen held a party, you were delighted when he approached you. You’d never taken him for being the one to make the first move. Not that you weren’t grateful.

That night, the pair of you had danced in the gardens were no one would see you, shared stolen kisses and giggled and laughed like you had never done before.

The pair of you promised to keep this a secret – nothing good would come of people knowing you two were together.

Not even the other Ladies in waiting knew about your relationship.

It was like something out of a novel. A forbidden romance, only a fantasy that could become a reality for a few glorious hours each time the pair of you got together.

It felt good to finally have someone notice you, tell you that you were beautiful, worthy of love and attention. He would leave you gifts in your chambers, with sweet little notes. They were mostly pieces of jewellery, necklaces, bracelets and broaches.

There was a part of you that hoped that one day, you would walk into your bedroom and find a small velvet box, containing a precious ring with that signature singular diamond that signified an engagement.

In one of your secret meetings, you did ask, “why don’t we just run away? Get married and leave all this behind?”

He had let out a snort, “darling, you wouldn’t last a day out there without all this granduer.”

You protested, “I could! I’d do it if it meant we could be together forever!”

At that, your lover had shot a glower at you. It surprised you, you’d never seen him look at you with so much contempt. “Well that’s never going to happen.” He said, harshly. “So get that silly idea out of your head.”

Your heart had chipped upon hearing that. Would it really be so bad to be married to one another? In domestic bliss?

After that conversation, he was cold to you. Colder than normal. He dodged you at every opportunity, even if it was just seeing each other in the halls, he would turn and stalk off in the opposite direction.

While you hadn’t meant to offend him, his reaction to the idea of you two being promised to one another was certainly an unwarranted one. He didn’t need to be so mean about it… but you loved him, and thought that maybe a big gesture of showing him how much you adored him would bring him back around.

So, one evening, you decided to bring a gift to him and deliver it personally. He was always giving you nice things, why couldn’t you do the same?

It was hard, choosing what to get him. What do you gift an Orc who has nearly everything handed to him just for being the King’s personal guard?

After a while, you finally decided. Your family was known for housing a baking empire, and thus, cooking was one of your families forte’s. And so you made him a cake.

With swirls of pink icing and cursive lettering on the top of the cake, you boxed it up after a days hard work and waited until night fall.

Your Orc lived just on the edges of the Palace grounds, and you would be undoubtably spotted if you went during the day. Donning a cloak and pulling up it’s hood, you left your quarters and headed for the Palace grounds.

The guards changed their shifts, and using the unmanned Palace doors, you darted through and raced to the edge of the grounds.

Now that you were on your way there, you realised that you’d never even been to his house before. Your Orc had never invited you, nor had you been close to it while accompanying walks with your Mistress, the Queen.

A tiny little cottage sat just at the edge of the Palaces’ garden walls, warm, inviting orange light flickering in it’s windows, puffs of smoke wafting out of the chimney.

You sped up your already hurried walk. Great, he was home. As you got closer, you saw shadows moving about inside the cottage and the silhouette of a woman.

The smile that had been spread across your face faded, your walk slowing down as you approached the cottage door.

A female Orc appeared in the window, a huge grin spread across her face as she laughed to someone unseen. You recognised her from the kitchens, she was always happy to talk to you about baking if you were ever bored and went down to see what the cooks were doing.

It had been a little while since you’d seen her.

You kept your distance, not wanting to be spotted in the dim lighting. As you watched, you realised that this she was pregnant. She must be on maternity leave then, it would explain her sudden absence in the kitchens.

But… why is she here? In your lovers house?

She was still smiling, nodding to the other person in the cottage with her, before she laughed again and beckoned her company closer.

The box in your hands slipped and split open, all your hard work splatting across the grass as you watched the love of your life, the King’s Guard pull the pregnant Orc into a hug.

Your Orc, your lover gave her a tight squeeze and then kissed her on the lips.

You couldn’t help yourself, you stared in horror as they walked away from the window and vanished further into the cottage.

Vision blurring, you gripped your skirts and bent down to pick up the ruined cake in front of you. Scooping the remains of the sweet treat into what remained of the box, tears fell.

You couldn’t believe it. You, were the other woman? To a pregnant lady who clearly had your lover wrapped tightly around her finger?

All the words you had exchanged, all the compliments and reassurances of your Orc… were lies? How could he do that to you?

The tears became too heavy and you couldn’t even see the cake in front of you anymore. Fingers covered in icing, you put your head in your hands, stood and ran off further into the Palace grounds.

You didn’t care if they found the cake out there, it’s not like people in the Palace wouldn’t find it strange that you came back covered in sugary sweetness.

It’s not like you could tell anyone of your affair either, everyone would look down on you, gossip and then you would never have a good life after that.

And your family’s reputation would be in the gutter. Their daughter, an adulteress and homewrecker? It didn’t matter that you never knew, your standing would still be tarnished.

A quiet trickle of running water hit your ears, causing you to stop your run and fall to your knees, no longer able to contain your shrieks of heartbreak.

How could you have been so stupid? Of course there was no way that an Orc like him and a Lady like yourself could have gotten married… or that someone as amazing as him would have fallen for a woman like you.

Part 2!

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Taglist <3 (forgot to add when this post first came out, sorry guys!)

@sunndust @greenie-c

[strawberrypoundtown]

Orc x Halforc!Fem!Reader: Part 2

After returning to your tent, you attempt to sneak off to let off some steam. However, you get caught quickly and things escalate from there...

Contains: pregnancy risk, breeding kink, chasing, wrestling, pinning, physical restraining, degradation, spanking, biting

'Fuck, shit, god I can't do this. I have to think of something.'

You were more than a little embarrassed and flustered as you laid in your bed, pretending to be asleep. After finding out Gan was going to be the one watching over you, you had no idea what to think. You tried to play off your short circuit brain and after some small talk excusedyourself to go lay down, saying you had a headache. How were you supposed to find a mate when Gan is the one watching over you? Whenever he was around, you were a puddle. You couldn't think of any person you wanted as your mate other than him. He was the best option, surely. Your brother may not be keen on the idea, but the rest of your family would think he would be the best option for you.

The only issue was that you didn't know if he would even hope to feel the same way about you. He always treated you with nothing but respect and kindness, but something about it felt much more withdrawn compared to when he would act similarly with other females in the clan. He would seem to be more playful, flirty even. He was already almost 26, just a couple years older than you. He never seemed to want anything serious from what you had heard. Oh no. Maybe he only saw you as a sister? Maybe he just wasn't the type to want a mate?

You rolled onto your back and let out a sigh. You needed to let off some steam. You had to get out of here. You rubbed your eyes before carefully sitting up. Gan was right outside your tent. He at least let you have that much privacy, but it was almost worse that he was right there. You wanted him to walk in and take you already. You wanted his strong hands to hold you down and give you his big, hard cock. You wanted him to fill you with his cum. To make you all his. That would definitely help you relax.

A gruff cough outside your tent broke you out of your horny daze, bringing you back to reality. You had to think of a way to get out of here. You needed to get away from Gan without him knowing. You can't think straight with him right there.

You could sneak out from behind your tent easily. You had a flap on your tent behind a chest, but someone might see you run off. You had to peak and see if anyone was there first, but Gan might hear you moving things and wonder what's going on. You sat on the edge of your bed as you pondered your options. You got up and snatched a smaller letter opener from your desk. You walk over to the chest and carefully using the sharp end to cut a small slit in the tent, just big enough to peak through.

You mentally pat yourself on the back for your creativity. You could sew it up if anyone noticed it anyways. At least that was one issue solved. You take a quick look out the small hole and didn't see anyone. Perfect. Time to try and move the chest in front of the escape spot as quietly as possible.

"(Y/n)?" You heard from outside your tent just ss you were about to stsrt moving the chest. The from entrance, thankfully. It was Gan. You loved it when he said your name. You sighed and figured it would be better to walk over the entrance. Maybe you could get him distracted with something else.

"Yes Gan?" You say as you opened the flaps of your tent, closing them behind you as you stepped out and stared up at Gan. He stared down at you and rolled his eyes.

"I was just going to ask how you were feeling. Were you thinking of going on a walk?" He said with a bit more sass in his voice than you were comfortable with. However, you face remained unfazed as you rolled your eyes yourself.

"No. I was actually going to ask if you could get me an apple. I'm a bit hungry and forgot to grab anything earlier." You asked him, genuinely a bit hungry, but you could easily find food outside of camp. You knew where the apple trees were. "Please?" You said, with a small pout. How could he say no to that face?

"Fine. Just don't go anywhere." He grumbled after a long pause. He avoided your gaze as he walked off towards the food tent. Now with Gan out of the way, you could slip out the back without anyone noticing. I mean, Gan would notice when he got back, but what was he gonna do? Tell your parents?

You quickly went back inside your tent, moving the chest out of the way before quickly peaking through the hole again. After making sure the path was clear, you lifted the flap and started to move through it. However, fate was not on your side.

"Hey (Y/n), I'm back with your app-" Gan freezes as he walks through the entrance of your tent, thrown off at first when he sees you halfway through a random hole in your tent. "What the-" you don't give him enough time to react, diving through the hole and bolting to the forrest. The advantage of being a bit smaller is that you were quick on your feet. "Ah fuck!" He yells in frustration, needing to go the long way around the tent.

You were already just a blurr in the distance by the time he got around the tent, but he could still see you. He chuckles to himself and takes off his armor and weapons, leaving them against your tent before running after you. He might not have been fast, but he was more known for his endurance... in more ways than one. He'd catch up to you eventually.

You were running as fast as you could, dodging and weaving between the trees. You were hoping you were losing him, but everytime you looked back, you kept seeing him in the distance. Why was he chasing you? He was always able to keep a pretty good pace with you, but in that moment you kinda hated him for it. Or did you love it? He could catch you so easily. Maybe he would claim you as his once he catches you. Or maybe he'd punish you? You couldn't tell which idea excited you more, but you couldn't focus on that right now!

You nearly trip on a tree root, jumping out of the way so you miss it, but not realizing the hill drop next to you. You yelp and stumble a bit, nearly falling, but you manage to catch yourself on a tree and pull yourself back. You use the second to catch your breath and stabilize yourself. You're about to start running again when you don't hear anyone behind you anymore... or see anyone for that matter. There was no way you lost hik that easily

For such a large man, he had managed to hide himself easily in the dense trees, his dark green skin helping him blend into the scenery as he moved between the foliage. He didn't understand why his heart was racing so much. Or why he felt himself getting excited as he got closer to catching you. He wanted to catch you and claim you. He wanted to make sure no other man would dare look at his mate. He wanted you as his mate. His one and only. He just had no clue how to do that. Maybe chasing you and getting you alone would help...

His footsteps quickened as he had heard you yelp, so he was fairly close to you, but he didn't see the edge of the hill. As your back was turned, he decided that tackling you would be the best way to capture you.

"Found you." He growled ominously before jumping out from around a tree. You screamed out and tried to dodge, but the attempt was futile. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to him as he waited for you guys to hit solid ground. But he quickly realized that he had made a mistake as you both started to tumble down the large hill. He had managed to keep you mostly protected throughout the fall, but had hit a tree and lost his grip on you, sending you tumbling your own way down the hill. You both landed at the bottom with a soft thud

He groaned in pain as he sat up, rubbing his head. He checked his body quickly, and other than a few scratches, he was fine. He looked around for you a bit panicked. He didn't know how far away you could have gotten. Thankfully, he spotted you only a few feet away, but noticed you were laying motionless on the ground. His blood ran cold as he rushed to your side, fearing the worst.

"Oh my god, (Y/n)!" He shouts as he turns you onto your back, only to be met by a swift, solid punch to his jaw from below. He groans in pain and turns away from you. After delivering the punch, you quickly get up and jump on his shoulders. You clamp your legs around his neck in a firm hold, causing him to fall backwards as he grabs at your thighs. It was like you were trying to kill him, but not because of lack of oxygen. If he didn't get out from between your thighs soon, he wouldn't be able to get away.

"Why were you following me?!" You yelled, not letting up on your grip. He could still breathe, but barely. He kept struggling, trying to get away from you before he got an erection. He had never had you do this to him like this before and he was enjoying it way more than he should. However, his struggling was causing his head to rub against your pussy through your clothes. You tighten your grip with your legs to try and get him to stop moving. "S-stop making this difficult and tell me why you followed me!" You yelled at him, letting out a soft sigh under your breath as he finally stopped struggling. You lightened your grip slightly to let him answer.

"I-I... don't... know... I... wanted... to.." He still struggled to speak because of her thighs, but she heard him. She let go of him, leaving him laying on the ground as he struggled to catch his breath. "I... didn't want you... to be alone out here..." He added between breaths, finally able to breathe normally for a few moments. However, he quickly couldn't breathe again as you jumped on his neck, your legs wrapping around his head once again, but from the front this time.

"I can take care of myself!" You yelled in frustration, your legs tight around his head, his face buried against your clothed pussy. He didn't dare move or breathe this time, hyper aware of every muscle in his body. You didn't think about what you did until after it was already done. You felt your core getting hot as you felt his tusks against your inner thighs, your face heating up. This felt like some sort of weird dream. Why did you do that?

He had to think of a way out of this before he passed out. His heart raced as he struggled to breathe once again, trying to get away from the sweet smell you just smothered him with. His erection grew and he was thankful you were facing away from it at least. Your pussy right in front of his face was all he could think about. He wanted to just rip your clothes off and make you ride his face, but it took all his willpower not to.

Instead, he wraps his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place with an iron like grip before swiftly turning, rolling the two of you so he was on his stomach. You had thought about this position too, but you were broken out of your thoughts as he quickly hoisted you up. He jumped up himself, your legs still around his head as he smacked you on a large smooth boulder. He was finally able to use his leverage to get out of your hold, gasping for air as he stood and braced himself on the boulder.

As he stood you finally saw it. His massive hard on was visible through his pants. He was huge. You knew he was big, but you weren't even sure if he was fully hard yet. He got that hard from all of that? You felt yourself getting even hotter and you were unable to close your legs yet. He had his hands firmly planted between your legs, keeping them spread open. He had to have known how you were feeling right now, right? He had to smell it when he was down there...

"What was that for?!" He shouts before groaning, reaching up with one hand to rub his jaw after the beating gave it. He looked down at your spread legs and stepped between them fully. He could see the wet spot between your legs and sighed deeply. He didn't think he'ddo this so quickly after being put in charge of taking care of you...

"Are you trying to kill me? Fucking brat..." He growls as he stares down at you, his arms pinning you under him as he leans over you. The sun shines through the trees and gives you both a beautiful glow. It really did feel like a dream, and both of you would agree. He just stared into your beautiful (e/c) eyes, only looking away to look down at your lips. Your faces were only a few inches away from each other's as you stared back at him. It looked like he was conflicted. Maybe you needed to encourage him a little?

You couldn't help yourself. You slowly reached your hands up and touched his chest gently. He was so warm and sweaty, and after the fall, dirty. You ran your hands up the sides of his neck and gently held his face. You felt him lean into your hands as he closed his eyes and sighed. You used your thumbs to gently caress his large tusks as he melted into your touch even further. You couldn't help but smile and giggle to yourself a little.

"I'd never thought the might Gan would be such a helpless little baby when it comes to being held." You snickered a little, his eyes shooting open before glaring at you. You gave him an evil smile before hooking your fingers on his tusks and tugging them towards you. He let out a groan in response before the look in his eyes turns into something more evil. He suddenly grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head

"You think that's funny? You fucking tease..." He growls at you. You haven't seen him like this before. You kinda like it. Without a word, he takes one of his hands and cups it under your head, lifting your head to meet his in a rough and passionate kiss. Your bodies rubbed together as he held you down and made out with you, not wanting to let you go Your tusks rubbed together as he loosened his grip on your wrists, pulling away slightly. Seizing the opportunity, you wrap your arms around his neck and brought your lips back to his. You'd been waiting too long for a chance like this. Your legs wrap around his waist as you press your body into his, scratching his back as you let out soft breathy moans whenever your lips manage to part for a moment.

He stumbles backwards a bit in surprise, his hands immediately grabbing your ass as he keeps you held close to him. He may not have expected this reaction, but he won't complain. He moans with you as he continues to kiss you, but slowly moves his hands up your body towards your shoulders.

As you start to grind your hips against him, he pushes you back onto the rock, your arms releasing, but your legs still locked firmly in place around his waist. Your back was arched as he pinned your shoulders. Both of you were panting from the kiss, both your lips puffy and almost raw. He has a moment of clarity and wants to make sure this isn't to try and trick him into not telling anyone about this.

"What's going on with you? You've been off since I was assigned to you. You've never given a guard this much trouble when you get caught outside camp. Why me?" He asked, determined for answers. Did you hate him that much that you wanted to run away? He was so confused as to why you were kissing him then.

"Because I want you..." You mumbled, bashful as you turned your head away from him. You let go of your grip around his waist with your

"What?" He asked, a bit thrown off by your answer.

"I want you! I have no interest in anyone else in the clan. I know you may not exactly feel the same way, but I needed to get away from you to even have a chance of finding someone else. I can't think of anyone but you when you're around..." You admit, sheepishly. Your face flushes and you avoid looking him in the eyes. "I just want you as my mate... if you'll have me."

He was staring at you dumbstruck as he tried to replay what he just heard in his head. Did you just confess? His head spun as he tried to find the words to speak, to reciprocate how you feel, but decided that actions would speak louder than words. His hands moved down to your hips and pulled you to the edge of the boulder. You were about to ask what he was doing, but he interrupted you by pulling your shorts up and exposing your ass for him. You didn't have time to react before he delivered a swift smack to your ass, earning a squeal from you.

"You had to take the moment didn't you? Spoilt brat. I wanted to ask you properly after showing you I can protect you. Couldn't even let me try and be a gentleman for you..." He said lowly, making your heart race as you froze and starred up at him. You didn't think you'd actually get this for, so you weren't sure how to react to any of this. All you knew was that you wanted him to keep going.

Another slap sounded on your other asscheek as he pushed your knees back against your chest. He directed your arms to wrap around your knees as he crouched down in front of your exposed pussy. His hot breath against your sensitive clit gave you goosebumps. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you before he finally dove in, giving your pussy long, slow licks from your entrance to your clit. You moan out and squeeze your legs closer to you as you let him do what he wants. He toys with you like that for a while before using his mouth to focus on your clit.

One of his hands migrate to your pussy, one of his large fingers sliding into you and curling against your g-spot gently. You arch your back as you let out another moan, but cut it off by biting your lip. His free hand slaps your ass again as he continues to lap at your clit with his tongue and finger your pussy. His hand stays on your ass and gropes the soft flesh as his tusks rub and scratch against the back of your thighs.

You pussy trembled as you tried your best not to squirm. As much as his hand was nice, you wanted to cum on his dick. You wanted him to fill you up and give you his little orcling. Now that you knew he felt the same, your whole body felt hot. His hands in and on your body felt like fire.

"Fuck..." He stopped suddenly and pulled away, taking off your shorts completely and quickly taking his own clothes off as you slowly let go of your legs and spread them. "You're so fucking sexy. I can't believe you're so willing to be my cum slut already..." He held his cock and rubbed it against your pussy. He was worried about hurting you, but after your pussy juices coated his cock after only ruling against you for a few moments, he decided to just go ahead.

You were eager for him to finally thrust into you. Even just his warm cock rubbing along your pussy lips and clit was making you feral. You'd jump on him soon if he didn't get a move on.

He lines up his cock carefully with your slick hole before easing his cock into you. You both moan loudly as your pussy strains slightly to take him in the best way. Your arousal only increased, making it easier for him to get more of his cock into you by the second. When he's about halfway into your pussy, you're already nearly completely full and he pauses.

"W-why are you stopping?" You whimper, not wanting him to hold back. He gives you a wicked grin before grabbing your hips and lifting you. He flips you over onto your stomach while you're still half on his dick. The sensation made your body quiver in pleasure before you turn your head to look back at him. He leans over your body and braces himself on his elbows over you, one of his forearms positioned under your head for you to rest on.

"I wanna fuck you like the bitch you keep acting like. Maybe then my dirty slut will calm down and be a good girl for me." Gan groans in your ear before thrusting the last of his cock into you without warning. You screamed out a moan out of shock, biting down on his arm as your eyes rolled back for a moment. Your tight pussy quivered around his cock as he shuddered from the sensation of having your warm, wet pussy around him. He could live like that, minus your teeth, but his hips start to move on their own as he moans in your ear.

"F-fuck, you're so tight... you're gonna milk my cock and give me a kid... everyone is gonna know you're all mine soon." He said breathlessly. As much as he was trying to act tough, his heart was melting as he fucked your brain out. His thrusts got faster and rougher as he listened to you moan through your bite on his arm with every thrust.

You tried to thrust your hips back against his with each thrust, but there wasn't much you could do when your whole body was pinned down. You felt your climax building quickly as Gan finds his pace, rubbing perfectly against your g-spot and hitting your cervix in a way that made you feel dizzy. His large, full balls kept slapping your clit with each thrust. Your jaw slacked as you released your bite, moaning even louder.

"There we go. Good girl. You're gonna behave for me, right? You gonna cum for me? I want my slut to cum on my cock and milk me..." He grumts, you only able to weakly nod your head as he just kept fucking your pussy until you exploded. Your pussy squeezed his cock so hard he couldn't move for a moment and you screamed. Your orgasm felt like you got hit by lightning, but he just keeps fucking you. Your pussy shuddered around his cock as you keep cumming, each thrust making you more overstimulated than the last.

"Fuck yes. I'm gonna cum too, princess. Take it all, please." Thankfully, he doesn't last much longer than you. His thrusts get faster but more sloppy as he chases his orgasm. He moans and groans as you whimper and lick the bite mark you left on his arm. The sight makes him groan as he thrusts inside you one last time, burying his cock deep in your pussy as he cums. You finally stsrt to come down from your orgasm with a loud sigh. You feel his warm cum fill you, but whine as you feel some of it start to drip down your legs.

He was still so hard. He rocks his hips gently against yours as you moan. Your poor sensitive pussy kept being bullied and you loved it. He kisses your shoulder gently and sighs.

"I love you, (Y/n)... I'd love to be your mate..." He whispers in your ear as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tenderly.

"I can tell..." You giggled breathlessly. Although you were exhausted, you didn't loose your sense of humor. "I love you too..." You whispered before turning your head and kissing him on the cheek. Due to how hard he was, and how he seemed to already be ready to go again, you two were going to be there for a long time...

[sserpente]

For Old Times' Sake

Synopsis: When your landlord drags you before Lord Gortash to settle your debts, your life gets turned upside down. It is not the fear of imprisonment that paralyses you at Wyrm’s Rock—it is him. Enver Flymm, as you’d once known him, a shy and clever boy and your only childhood friend. Will he recognise you and show mercy, help you out?

A/N: My obsession with Gortash is getting out of hand. I don’t think I care.

Words: 2853 Warnings: angst, homelessness, mentions of death and abuse

The number on your tax letter was bright red—quite possibly scribbled on there with the previous tenant’s blood. Three thousand and five hundred gold pieces. That was more money than you had ever seen in your life.

“I’m a little short.”

The half-orc—your landlord—rolled his eyes. “By how much?”

“Um…about three thousand and four hundred ninety-nine gold pieces.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“I’m not, I…I am trying to find work right now. I was preoccupied with organising a funeral and scraped together the last of my savings to buy my parents a coffin. I will start paying off the debts and all the money I owe if you give me just a little bit more time…”

The half-orc scoffed. “Funny, that’s what your parents always said too. Just a little bit more time. I’m done playing games, kid. In times like this, the Fist can’t let this keep happening. You pay your rent, you pay your taxes, you contribute to the city’s safety—and you face the consequences if you cannot do so.”

It was this new Steel Watch mainly that ate up most of the tax money. An entire Foundry had sprouted from the ground down by the docks seemingly overnight. They were rather scary automatons and they were not known for their mercy.

“It’s Friday,” the half-orc continued. “We are settling this once and for all. Your missing payments are biting a hole into my coin purse.”

Your eyes widened. Each Friday, Lord Gortash—the city’s new hero, protector, and saviour—held public hearings where citizens could voice requests, concerns, or other pleas. You’d never seen the man in person. He looked handsome enough on the posters, you’d read about his good deeds and heard about his generosity. But apart from that, he was a stranger to you. You’d known a young boy once called Enver though—Gortash sharing the same first name could only bring you luck, no?

Perhaps…perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. You could make your case—explain to him that when your parents died from sickness, the remaining debts from all the medication that didn’t help in the end had been passed on to you.

You inherited a small house with broken windows, corroding wood and a serious rat problem in the cellar rendering food rations useless. Not that you had many to spare. You’d always wondered what a full stomach felt like.

“Will you come with me willingly or do I need to get a Fist?”

“This really isn’t necessary, saer. As soon as I’ve found work—”

“I am done making exceptions. We are leaving for Wyrm’s Rock. Now.”

You didn’t want to make a scene, not here. Not with the Steel Watchers within reach. With a sigh, you folded the letter from your landlord and handed it back to him, then followed him through the Lower City to Wyrm’s Rock as if you were walking to the gallows.

The place was packed. You’d expected little else. Lord Gortash was very much in demand. There was a long queue when you arrived, several Fists positioned at every possible entrance along with some patrolling Steel Watchers to ensure no one cut the line.

Five minutes turned into ten minutes, ten minutes into twenty. With every passing second, you felt the nervousness tightening its iron grip around you more. The punishment for evading rent was eviction, for one, and imprisonment for another. But perhaps Lord Gortash would hear you out.

It took another ten minutes before you were called up to the audience chamber. As if he was worried you’d try and make a run for it now, the half-orc grabbed your upper arm, dragging you with him. At the far end of the hall, two Steel Watchers were positioned on either side of a pretty throne in front of which stood a handsome man with short black hair and elegant black armour.

“Lord Gortash…thank you for your time,” your landlord began. He bowed—and so did you. Gortash’s eyes skimmed over the half-orc with mild interest before moving on to you. Dark orbs boring into yours, stirring…recognition within you. His face…you could have sworn you’d met him before.

“How can I be of service, hmm?” he asked with a sly smirk. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest. That scar on his chin…that little boy you knew from your childhood…a boy named Enver…

“E-Enver? Enver Flymm? Is…is that you?”

Your landlord’s head whipped in your direction, the disrespect apparent, even more so when Gortash began to frown. Who were you to call the archduke by his first name? But this…this was different. You knew him. He was…or used to be…your friend.

“It’s me!” You told him your name, excitement washing over you like a wave. “R-remember me? We used to play together as kids. You…you just disappeared one day. I never found out what happened to you and your parents wouldn’t talk to me…”

Your landlord cleared his throat before Gortash could answer—the archduke’s face, however, was painted with recognition. He did remember you.

“Whatever, Lord Gortash, this…tenant of mine has been behind with paying rent for months. I am currently missing nearly four thousand gold pieces which she claims she’ll be able to ‘pay back soon as soon as she finds work’.”

Enver knew your family was poor, they always had been. He himself didn’t have a lot growing up. While other kids would brag about the new toys that they got for their birthday, Enver got a beating out of asking for some simple tools for his special day. He’d always been a tinkerer.

“I see. I am going to deal with this. Would you excuse us for a moment?” Gortash finally spoke.

Taken aback, your landlord nodded. Dismissed. You breathed out audibly. Good, this was good. You’d get to tell him your side of the story and he’d help you, he had authority now, he had the power to…

“You have chosen a criminal career then?”

Your heart dropped. “C-criminal? I’m not a criminal.”

“You refuse to pay rent. And tax evasion too?”

“I don’t refuse. I simply…I can’t, I have no money left. You…you remember my parents, right? They passed two ten days ago. We spent all we had on medication and healers and that was after they started struggling with their health. They couldn’t work as much anymore and so we fell behind.”

“Hmm.”

He tilted his head and for just a brief second, you saw the young boy flash before your eyes again. You couldn’t help but smile despite your sad circumstances. Gods, you were a childhood friend of the archduke… Now that your parents were gone…perhaps you wouldn’t be all alone after all.

“I…I thought about you a lot. You were my only friend back then. I always assumed your parents sent you off to some private school outside the city to give you better opportunities or…or that an incurable sickness claimed you. Just earlier today I thought I once knew a little boy who would have loved these Steel Watchers. And now it turns out it was you all along. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I put my talent to good use.”

“You did. I remember when we were little kids we would roam the streets and search the city for old metal parts. You’d tinker away and build your own toys with them. This one time you made me a dancing ballerina, do you remember? You…you found this old music box a merchant had abandoned. The music was all distorted at first but…you made it work again. That was the best toy I ever had.” You paused. All of a sudden…you were mourning him. Mourning your childhood friend you thought you had lost for good.

“What happened to you? Where did you go?”

Gortash’s brown eyes locked with yours. But then, his expression hardened. “That matters not. Your landlord expects a solution for his dilemma.”

Your face fell. “You…you could help.”

“I could,” he mused. “But I am the archduke of Baldur’s Gate now, my dear. If I start waiving laws in favour of an old acquaintanceship, people are going to start questioning my reliability.”

“But—“

“Your landlord is in the right. If you cannot afford rent, he has the right to evict you. I am going to spare you the dungeons—for old times’ sake.”

“Enver…”

“That is Lord Gortash to you. We are not children anymore.”

Your lips parted. “Is…is that it?”

“Yes. You are dismissed.”

You didn’t even notice your tears until they wet your cheeks. You turned around without a word of goodbye, without a formal bow. Your landlord was seemingly pleased as you rushed out. You didn’t wait for Enver to tell him the good news.

As of right now, you were homeless. And even though you hadn’t seen your only friend in years, against all reason, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

You just didn’t understand. Enver used to be such a sweet boy. Innocent, full of visions and dreams, shy, quiet. Everyone who knew him including his own parents labelled him as ‘odd’ but you knew better.

Now, he was the reason you’re homeless. Wait, no. That wasn’t right. Your landlord was the reason you were homeless. Enver had simply honoured the very rules set in place before he became the archduke. Perhaps he was right and he couldn’t make an exception—it would be unfair on others. He could have sent you to prison but he didn’t. That had to be enough.

As you made your way through the Lower City past merchants, civilians, and Steel Watchers a few weeks later, wondering if you’d be able to have a meal today, the sudden tumult right in front of Basilisk Gate had you pause. You frowned, hurrying toward the crowd of people that had formed before the gallows. Three men with nooses around their necks stood on the wooden platform, in front of them, facing the citizens, stood Enver.

What in the hells was happening?

“…so let this be a fair warning. These are the consequences of disobedience. I am not going to tolerate disrespect. I have led this city to glory—and I ask for recognition and your trust in return.”

Your frown deepened when Enver gave a court nod to the hangman. The very moment the trap doors gave way under the prisoner’s feet was the moment you looked away—but not before the archduke’s eyes met yours.

“I am telling you,” you heard a citizen whisper to another, “there’s something foul about this man. He acts like a bloody Banite.”

A Banite. You swallowed. That was a serious accusation. Surely, a sweet boy like Enver wouldn’t turn to Bane worship.

“My words exactly,” the other citizen responded, “I heard he is friends with the chief editor of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette and only what he approves of gets printed.”

A scoff. “Talk about propaganda.”

You’d heard enough. With your heart in your mouth, you stepped away, attempting to disappear in the crowd and perhaps ask for a gold piece or two. You flinched when a Fist touched your shoulder and flipped you around to face her.

“Lord Gortash has requested your presence. You will follow me.”

“W-why? What does he want?”

She didn’t respond. And if you refused to follow her? You didn’t want to find out.

You hadn’t expected to return to Wyrm’s Rock any time soon, nor that you’d be led up the stairs to Lord Gortash’s private quarters. The place was imposing. And of course, when you spotted him behind his desk, he was accompanied by two Steel Watchers.

“Ah, hello, my dear. Have you been faring well?” he mused. You could have been mistaken—but it was almost like you sensed scornfulness swinging in his voice.

“I am homeless. How do you think I’m faring?” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

“Oh, don’t give me that reproachful tone. We are all bound by laws and order, my dear.”

You blinked. “What do you want from me?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“You do?” Hesitation mixed with suspicion. After seeing him hang people in public today…you weren’t sure a proposition would do you any good.

“It’s quite simple, really. Serve me and I shall give you a roof over your head.”

“Serve you?”

“I’ve had my Watchers keep an eye on you. It is quite noble of you not to resort to stealing. Surely, you understand why the citizens of Baldur’s Gate are becoming more and more hesitant to spare a few coins, though.”

You’d read in the Gazette only yesterday that the tax rates were going to be increased yet again starting next month. Both the Fist and the newspaper itself had become very vocal about their dismay when it came to the poor and those in need. It was concerning—terrifying, even.

“Being archduke comes with a lot of responsibilities. My hands are full with political duties, I need people around me to run errands for me and assist me. What do you say? For old times’ sake?” he continued.

“You want me to work for you?” Only weeks ago, you would have jumped at the opportunity. You and your childhood friend reunited at last. Him being the archduke, you being his assistant, his right hand. Now, however, the request left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. You did not agree with his cold-hearted choices to hang usurpers. There was always a more peaceful solution. Imprisonment, for one.

“Do you know what people are whispering, Env-…Lord Gortash? They have suspicions you could be a Banite. You hung people for disobedience! How is that a fair judgement? How can I work for you if this is how you—”

“One of them plotted an assassination against me. You have no right to question my rule, my dear. Lest you’ll end up like them.”

Your lips parted. He didn’t even deny it. He…he didn’t deny he was worshipping Bane… Damn all appropriation. “Enver, please, what happened to you? You used to be such a sweet boy, you comforted me when the other kids picked on me, you—”

“My parents, my dear, sold me to a Warlock. I disappeared because I was shipped off the hells to serve a devil called Raphael in his House of Hope. I faced years of degradation and abuse until I finally managed to escape. I had nothing, I was nothing. The Black Lord picked up the pieces that were left of me and made me what I am today. And I am giving you a chance now. You have potential. Serve me and we can rise together.”

You blinked, processing his words. Sold? To a devil? No wonder his parents had refused to speak about him after his sudden disappearance. The torment he must have experienced…you could almost understand why a tyrannical god like Bane would infiltrate his dreams and promise him power and glory.

“I…I don’t know about this, Enver. This…this is tyranny.”

“In times like this, tyranny is what people need. They don’t listen—and they need a strong leader to help them make the choices that are best for the city. As of right now, free will is their greatest enemy.”

“Is that truly what you think?”

Enver’s expression darkened. He took a menacing step forward. All of a sudden, you felt so much smaller than before.

“I will not have you belittle my faith.” He paused. “I expect an answer. Now.”

You were torn—way too much so. This answer should be a decided No. Working for a Banite, for a worshipper of one of the Dead Three…it was wrong. It should be wrong. And yet…you were hesitant. Not only did Enver promise to end your homelessness but also an alliance. You were clueless as to how he assumed you would be of any use to him but you’d be damned if you didn’t admit that ever since he’d stepped into your life again…it felt like a part of yourself had returned to you. Against all reason, that made you happy. Relieved, even. You weren’t entirely alone—and you certainly wouldn’t be if you accepted his proposal.

You took a deep breath. “F-fine. I…I accept. I…I don’t want to lose you again.”

If he’d expected you to agree, he didn’t expect this. For just a split second, his composure faltered, surprise and something ever so soft washing over his face. It was gone again as fast as it had appeared.

“Splendid. A wise decision, my dear. I shall have one of the empty servants’ rooms prepared for you. Unless of course, you’d rather stay with me?” he mocked.

“You know, I would actually like that,” you said with a weak smile. Because you’d missed him. Banite or not, you were grateful he’d found his way into your life again. Not all was lost—perhaps you’d be able to talk to him. Help him be a better person just like he’d helped you be one when you were young. You’d find a way. For old times’ sake.

A/N: I already have an idea for a Part II.

[vera-simik]

Hell yeah!

Iceland, Earth

Submitted by Anonymous

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Nested Stories

Have you ever read a novel, novella, or short story and realized that the characters within the narrative were reading or watching a story of their own? If so, you have experienced a literary device known as a story within a story.

A story within a story occurs when some sort of tale is told to characters who exist within the main narrative of a work of fiction.

Also found in live theater, TV shows, and film along with written books, this literary technique implants a nested narrative within the main story.

Sometimes, the nested story contains its own story within a story.

This creates a multi-story set where multiple narratives exist within the framework of a larger plot, thus forming the literary equivalent of a Russian doll.

A popular variation on this embedded narrative is a technique known as a frame story.

In a frame story, the main narrative itself is a story within a story.

An example can be found in the novel Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.

The main narrative of the novel, involving Dr. Frankenstein and his monster, is told via a series of letters written by a man named Robert Walton.

Examples: Story Within a Story

If you have ever read the “Mad Trist” narrative embedded within Edgar Allan Poe’s Fall of the House of Usher or “The Grand Inquisitor” story in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Brother Karamazov, you have read classic examples of a story within a story.

Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, Count Jan Potocki’s The Manuscript Found in Saragossa, and Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales use frame stories to bracket their main narrative.

In film, The Princess Bride features a frame narrative told by Peter Falk to Fred Savage.

Here are some additional examples of an inner story appearing somewhere within the first story presented to a reader:

The Odyssey by Homer: One of the most fundamental examples of frame storytelling is Homer’s The Odyssey. The entire narrative is recited by Odysseus himself within the royal court of King Alcinous in Scheria.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski: In this novel, the main character finds a manuscript that itself refers to a documentary retelling a real-life event in the world of the book. Dense and layered, the book contains multiple stories within a story. Other science fiction novels with embedded stories include Cloud Atlas, Red Orc's Rage, and The Man in the High Castle.

William Shakespeare’s Hamlet: Hamlet features a play within the play. The embedded play’s storyline is too similar to events occurring in Hamlet’s own life, and he brazenly interrupts.

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad: This novella is partly a conventional story within a story and partly a nest story within a frame story. Its main character, Charles Marlow, tells his fellow sailors of a haunting episode from his own life story. The main plot unfolds as a flashback within Marlow’s own life and is told in first-person voice.

One Thousand and One Nights: Commonly known as Arabian Nights, this written work features an unnamed narrator telling of stories that themselves are told by the character Scheherazade. What’s more, many of Scheherazade’s stories have their own inner story, so the Russian nesting doll effect applies here as well.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[tanadrin]

Hi! Apologies for the potential annoyance, but I've heard some people say that Tolkien's work has some racist connotations, specifically in relation to the Orcs and the Elfs. Is this true? How so?

Tolkien and racial politics is interesting, but I think a lot of people's analysis of Tolkien and race is bad. You can compare him to fantasists like Robert E. Howard and H. Rider Haggard and other writers who do actively care about race as it was politically and scientifically conceptualized in the 20th century, and their racism is of a totally different order, and far more explicit, than anything found in Tolkien. And people misread Tolkien's style, because language around race has shifted rapidly in the last 50-75 years, and they take as racialized words like "swarthy" which in context are used to mean things like "a white person with dark hair and a tan" and not "a black person."

Tolkien's not progressive on race, because Tolkien was not politically progressive. The impression I got from his letters is that he was a pretty generic well-educated conservative--disdaining both fascism and communism, not super worked up about homosexuality despite his Catholicism--but also not super interested in the day-to-day of politics either. He doesn't care about representation in his stories, and he's not worried about what people might read into his work, so I think some unconscious biases are definitely in evidence (e.g., in his depiction of the Haradrim). But also a lot of his literary models are from centuries before modern racial categories were constructed. He's definitely not importing nearly as much of the scientific racism and eugenics and other 20th century baggage as many of his contemporaries are in their fiction.

"Tolkien is racist" is certainly not true in the same way as "HP Lovecraft is racist" is. He's also not unproblematic. But a lot of great books are problematic! And I think Tolkien has a lot of good things to say that interact in interesting ways with the parts of his work that are problematic, and give the reader a lot to chew on.

[queers-gambit]

The Rings of Power

requesting rules and masterlist

requests are OPEN where to watch: Amazon Prime / Amazon Video

Shadows of the Past

the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

word count: 5.1k+

🖤 reader insert 💔 small angst 🐑 filler ❤️‍🩹 literal hurt and comfort 💍 established relationship 🛑 abrupt ending 🍭 insinuated friends to lovers 🐝 oneshot 🙊 general language and content warning 🥊 depiction of canon-typical physical violence and / or aggression 🩸 depiction of injury and blood 🔏 not edited

read here

Tower Scrolls

during the Siege of Eregion, Elrond barters for his fiancé's life, and her life's work.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

word count: 4.1k+

🖤 reader insert 🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🐑 pure filler, no worth 💍 established relationship ⚠️ spoilers 🐝 oneshot / stand alone 🙊 general language and content warning ☠️ canon-complicit character death 🥊 depiction of physical violence and / or aggression and / or abuse and / or torture 🩸 depiction of injury and blood 😵‍💫 wonky brain went wonky 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

Match Made in Grey Haven

you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

word count: 2.9k+

⏳ kinda AU timeline: takes place before TROP 🧸 fluff 🎭 small drama 🥰 romance ❤️‍🩹 small hurt and comfort 🍭 friends to lovers 🐍 small family angst: dead parents 🥦 healthy family relationships 😵‍💫 wonky brain went a little wonky 🧠 depiction of mental health: anxiety and maybe being shy? 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

part two: The Risk

after your wedding, you and Elrond embark on your honeymoon touring Middle-earth. your company is attacked on the road by Orcs. help comes from an old friend.

word count: 7.1k+

⏳ AU timeline 🧸 little fluff 🥰 romance 🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💍 established relationship 🍭 friends to lovers 🙊 general language and content warning 🥦 kinda healthy family views 🥊 depiction of physical violence 🥂 alcohol consumption 🩸 depiction of blood and injury 👰‍♀️ wife reader 😵‍💫 wonky brain went VERY wonky 🔏 not edited 🛑 kinda abrupt ending ?

read here

Commander

being on opposite sides of the Rings eventually sends your husband back into your arms, and between your legs. haha, nice.

word count: 4.6k+

🖤 slightly reader insert 🎭 drama 💔 angst 🥰 romance ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💦 smut 💣 small relationship angst 💍 established relationship ⚠️ slight spoilers 🔏 not edited

read here

Bait and Switch

Adar knows you by surname and reputation, but makes a fatal mistake: underestimating the mutual desire to reunite with your husband.

word count: 7.7k+

🖤 reader insert 🎭 drama drama drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💣 relationship angst (reader's a POW) 💍 established relationship ⚠️ spoilers 🐝 oneshot / stand alone 🙊 general language and content warning 🥦 healthy family dynamic 🥊 depiction of physical violence and / or aggression 🩸 depiction of blood and injury and slight gore (Reader bites off Orc finger) 💛 requires maturity and imagination 🩺 depiction of medical phenomenon (cauterization) 👰‍♀️ wife!reader 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

requesting rules and masterlist

[teawithmadalice]

THE DRAGONS DAUGHTER

Thranduil x daughter!OC • CHAPTER 2

SUMMARY: Thranduil lost his beloved daughter 500 years ago, on his search for the white gems of Lasgalen- his wife's final gift to him, he finds a young elf who reminds him of his lost daughter.

OR Thorin confronts Thranduil, and he reminisces.

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

1 • 2 (YOU ARE HERE) • 3

The halls of the kingdom of mirkwood were large, tall and extravagant, with curving branches of trees and wooden walkways wrapped around stone, even the dwarf prisoners could not insult the domain.

King Thranduil sat poised a top his throne, elevated above the kneeling not-king dwarf, peering down and sneering cruelty, "Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand, a quest to reclaim a homeland... and slay a dragon."

The elf scoffed, standing from his carved wooden throne and descended the tall steps that lead up to him, approaching the kneeling dwarf. "I myself, suspect a more prosaic motive- attempted burglary or something of that ilk"

Thorin Oakenshield stood up, meeting the elven kings eye.

"You have found a way in, you seek what would bestow upon you the right to rule- The Kings Jewel. The arkenstone." Thranduil spoke, a reserved knowing smile flittering across his features.

"it is precious to you beyond measure, I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that i too desire, white gems... of pure starlight."

Thorin Oakenshield son of Thrain knew of the stones he was talking about, the white gems of Lasgalen, gems owned by the former queen of Mirkwood, and taken from her cold corpse by orcs and later found by wandering dwarfs, taken to their kingdom of erebor and stashed amongst the hoards of gold. It was soon after that, not even ten days later, that a fire breathing dragon of the name of Smaug wreaked havoc on the Dwarvish Kingdom. The gems of Lasgalen were lost amongst the horde stolen by a dragon.

"I offer you my help."

Thorins gaze hardened, "I am listening."

"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine"

The dwarf scoffed, "A favor for a favor."

Thorins Oakenshield remembered the day the dragon had come for Erebor, slain his kin, killed his brothers, sisters, the young and the old.

Thorin Oakenshield remembered looking up and seeing a vast elven army. An army that could have turned the tides. An army that could've saved his people and reclaimed his home.

Thorin remembers how he screamed at the king of Mirkwood, begging the elf for aid.

He remembers how the elven king turned around and refused to join the fight against the great dragon Smaug, and how in consequence the battle was lost.

"You have my word, from one king to another'

"I would not trust Thranduil, the Great King, to honour his word, should the end of all days be upon us!" Throin sneered, his posture growing with his anger as he seethed.

"YOU! WHO LACK ALL HONOUR?! I HAVE SEEN HOW YOU TREAT YOUR FRIENDS! We came to you once, starving. Homeless. Seeking your help. YOU TURNED YOUR BACK! YOU, TURNED AWAY FROM THE SUFFERING OF MY PEOPLE! THE INFERNO THAT DESRROYED US- IMRID AMARÂD URSUL" (to die a firey death)

Thranduil was blinded by grief, although the dwarfs did not know that, the day he marched towards the battle of dwarf and dragon. His actions are a haze, and he could not recall the events that happened the days after he heard his wife was dead and his young babe missing, he is told that he sent a letter to the Kingdom of Erebor, requesting for the return of his late queens necklace, the letter was answered with a short formal reply.

'To whom it may concern,

We understand you wish to reclaim the Lasgalen Gems, However due to Section F, Clause 5 of the Dwarvish code and regulations for Gold and Treasury affairs, which states: "Any belongings of any value found on a deceased person discovered by an inhabiting Erebor dwarf is rightfully property of the Dwarven King of Erebor, and cannot be reclaimed after being added to the Treasury horde." We cannot fulfill this request.

Regards, The sector of Gold and Treasury keeping for the great kingdom of Erebor.'

Thranduil is told that when he heard news of the great dragon Smaug spitting Dragonfire onto the Dwarven kingdom, he laughed.

No, his reaction could not be explained with the mere word 'laugh'. He was maniacal, his eyes were blown wide and he was erratic, he ordered a troop of 2000 elves strong to march for the lonely mountain the next dawn.

No elf knew if they were truly going to the battlefield to fight that day, their king had not explained the plan of action, but no elf had the courage to ask the grief striken king his reasoning, not even his closest advisors.

When Thranduil stood on the hill and looked down on the grotesque scene of fire and blood, he did not pity or grimace at the picture. Those insolent, greedy, cruel beings didn't deserve to live. Their deaths would be a mercy, and middle earth would be a better place with them gone... So Thranduil, Great King of Mirkwood, turned away.

Thranduil lowered himself to the dwarfs level, faces inches away from each other. "Do not talk to me of dragon fire, I know it's wrath and ruin." He spat, as his face contorted, skin shredding to reveal a large scar that covered the expanse of his left cheek- a scar left, undoubtedly by dragon fire

"I have faced the great serpents of the North. I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon, but he did not listen. You are just like him."

His face reverted to its previous appearance, porcelain skin shifting back into place, some sort of cosmetic magic to restore the elven kings perfect image. He slinked away from the dwarf captive, signalling his guards to detain him once more as he climbed the stairs to his throne once more

"Stay here if you will and rot - 100 years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I'm patient. I can wait..."

•••••••••

Aewneth knew from even a young age she shouldn't have survived.

Her origins were like a puzzle, a heap of jumbled up mismatching pieces that all had a place, but her fumbling hands couldn't seem to get them all too fit- and even if they seemed like, even for a second, that they were all falling into place, the picture they made was still too blurry to be seen.

But she was good at puzzles.

She was born prematurely, she assumed, her mother had abandoned her because she thought the girl was too weak to be among the strong wood elves of her kin. Miraculously, she survived a few seasons in the wilderness- maybe a pack of wolves or a lonely bear mistook her for a cub, or perhaps just took pity on her weak miserable circumstance and provided for her.

She was malnourished, and premature, still looking like a new born, the townsfolk of Laketown decided to sacrifice a babe to the dragon Smaug in order to gain favour, but did not want to send their own flesh and blood, so they sent her, an abandoned elfling orphan.

And for whatever reason, Smaug did not burn the girl and eat her when she was placed at the mouth of the cave in which was once the great Dwarven kingdom of Erebor, instead he took her in, gave her books and clothes, taught her ancient languages thousands of years old from when the 6000 year old dragon was just a hatchling.

And that is what the puzzle illustrates.

The picture is clear, but blurry. The picture is complete, but pieces are still missing.

Aewneth was good at most puzzles, but this one she still hasn't gotten right, but she was wise enough to know that.

Her room was once the kings quarters, it was a large room, with a view of the hoard from above, she could look from her window and see the slumbering dragon beneath the gold, the glistening gems that reflected the torch lit room like stars. The kings quarters was once rather drab, with stone grey walls, archaic, minimalist lines and patterns carved into the wall and no colour- but having inhabited the place for 500 years, Aewneth had added her own touch to the place.

The walls were now covered in painted murals, she had copied the illustrations of flowers, plants and trees she had found in the many books of the great Erebor library onto the walls. The soft blankets and elegant clothes she had scavenged from other rooms were tailored to fit her taller physique and were hand embroidered with bugs and greenery.

Aewneth could not remember ever seeing the outside world with her own eyes, although she knows she has once- when she was an infant, before she was given to the great dragon Smaug.

So she sought inspiration though depictions, paintings and novels, because Erebor had no windows, it was a dark, dingy forge, dwarves did not need to leave the mountain and had no yearning too, while most would feel it was oppressive and imprisoning, the she-elf had never known anything different.

She knew she did not belong here. A sense of unease and discomfort had settled in the pit of her stomach all her life- but she did not know where she did belong.

She was not a dragon like her adoptive father, she was not accepted by her birth mother, and the people of lake town did not care for her either

And perhaps the day that a small halfling stumbled into her father's hoard, and woke him from his 60 year nap was a blessing from fate, or a gift from Eru Ilúvatar. Whoever set this chain of events in action changed the life of Aewneth, lost princess of Mirkwood, for better or for worse, that is yet to be decided.

••••••••

WOOOOO!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! I hope you all have a great day and don't get into too many family arguments, I know i probably will 😂

not proofread

TAGLIST:

@sunroxic @trishfullertonwriting75 @ringwraith1261 @sanwhs2 @aduialel @kittysspam @prettyself @dipping-dots @carnivore-spikachu @monchaeri3 @kaorisakamotofan

[letter-orcs-art]

Art v Artist 2024

[vera-simik]

There's been a challenge on insta which required to dig up some photos from 10 years ago.

I still have (and fit into) all of the pieces I'm wearing here. Minus the shoes, they're dead 😄

Might look for the clothes & post a recent pic for comparison 😄

[inthehouseoffinwe]

I saw your cool post about the Sindar's treatment of the silmaril. I think the strange logic behind Luthien/Dior/Elwing's claim to the silmarils is likely a consequence of Tolkein's Catholicism and "turn-of-the-century" worldview leaking into the work (which can be seen in multiple other examples, particularly Miriel being portrayed as a "bad mother" who doesn't obey her husband and ruined her son's life by refusing to come back to life ASAP and Indis is the "good woman" who steps up to serve Finwe, whose descendants are favored by the Valar). He thinks that an important/beautiful item ought not to truly belong to its creator, but to the "public benefit" and therefore under the Valar's true possession (although I personally wonder what benefits the silmarils ever brought to anyone, other than pathological addiction to their light). Ultimately, handing over the silmaril is a sign of absolute obediance to the Valar and the only reason they fight Morgoth. So it appears that they value obediance more highly than their duty to protect the children of Eru from Morgoth, which is in line with Catholic principles of the supreme will of divine beings.

Furthermore, Tolkein builds Arda on the very notion that certain races (elves, and above them, Maiar and Valar except Sauron and Morgoth) are just ontologically pure and superior (biologically/racially divine) to all others. So even if they do something wrong (commit theft), they are somehow still right if it is not against Eru's will. The support for this is in Letter 183, he says "...So even if in desperation 'the West' had bred or hired hordes of orcs and had cruelly ravaged the lands of other Men as allies of Sauron, or merely to prevent them from aiding him, their Cause would have remained indefeasibly right." This notion is obviously highly problematic under modern standards of morality and equal rights for all. Nonetheless that is probably how Tolken legitimized Luthien and her descendant's theft of the silmaril -- they are part-Maia, superior by nature to all other elves, especially those that have kinslayed. It would explain why Dior wasn't burned by the jewel when he killed dwarves for it, and why Elwing justifies her claim to the jewel as "my grandma wore it and my dad died for it" without actual legal entitlement to it. Granted, trauma is also an explanation, but the explicit reason given in the text appears to be based on an assumption of innate superiority through part-Maia heritage (as Luthien was only able to retrieve the silmarils through Maiar powers and love for Beren, when no full elves could).

So all of these premises are very objectionable by secular standards of equality, governance, and property law. But Tolkein was a devout Catholic who grew up and fought for the British Empire, which also espoused a racial heirarchy. And all of this bled into the Silmarillion and created certain incongruencies in the treatment of various characters.

Hi Anon, thanks for sending this!

I'm going to break this reply down into points for the sake of coherency, but there is something I want to address first:

I am not Christian and whilst I’ve grown up around several, cannot speak for all their beliefs in detail. However, having had my own faith completely warped to make points which are the opposite of what I believe, I avoid using religion as a base for discourse unless I am certain of what I am saying, and have made sure it won't be interpreted the wrong way.

In general, there's a disturbing trend of painting people who follow a religion as inherently backwards or oppressive. No time is taken to understand their beliefs, the complexities behind them, and if these beliefs are even being understood and applied within the right context.

Tolkien using his faith as a base for his fictional world is not inherently bad nor should it be seen that way.

With this in mind, let's dive into things!

1. Breaking the Miriel/Indis narrative into simple good and bad does a disservice to the characters and the author. We simply don’t get enough time with the characters or this part of the story to make a clear cut statement.

I don’t see Miriel portrayed negatively at all. When Tolkien speaks of the effects of Miriel's death, he writes them in the shadow of what actions Fëanor and Finwë took because they could not let her go, rather than blaming Miriel for leaving. Fëanor is what he is because of what he (and Finwë) chose to do with his mother's memory and absence.

Miriel herself is treated gently, her exhaustion deemed reason enough for her departure, and her death written in ambiguous terms:

‘She went then to the gardens of Lórien and lay down to sleep; but though she seemed to sleep, her spirit indeed departed from her body, and passed in silence to the Halls of Mandos.’

She is not blamed for leaving, rather the opposite. It seems she had no choice in the end. Other elves blame Finwë for his decision to marry again, not Miriel for leaving:

'...many saw the effect of the breach... judging that if Finwë had endured his loss and been content with the fathering of his mighty son, the courses of Fëanor would have been otherwise...'

Later on when Tolkien writes of Finwë’s preference for his eldest, Finwë is put in the spotlight for making a bad decision/reacting the wrong way to his loss. Miriel remains innocent.

'But the shadow of Miriel did not depart... from his heart; and of all whom he loved Fëanor had ever the chief share of his thought.'

Miriel being a 'bad mother' seems to stem from fanon interpretation.

Indis is also interesting because we see little to nothing of her as her own character. I would argue if she really was the 'good woman' she would have stayed with Finarfin and supported him in maintaining her husband's legacy rather than returning to the Vanyar.

Regarding her children, Fingolfin is written as someone as guilty as Fëanor in the initial instigation: another prince who let his pride and arrogance blind him to the point where he was picking fights and vying for leadership as much as his half-brother. His later decisions may have been better, but I don't see corrolation between Indis marrying Finwë and him becoming a great (but guilty) king. Finarfin too is left to his own merit, and we don't hear much about her daughters.

(I’d add that under this argument, Elwing should be punished for abandoning her children. Instead we see her descendants rise to become great kings and wise elves. We could say not being allowed back to ME is a punishment, but that’s a different discussion.)

But in essence, I think the early 20th Century ideas of a good/bad mother/wife aren't seen here.

2. I agree that Tolkien has a 'public benefit' approach to things. Interestingly, the Valar's apparent right to the silmarils only occurs after the Trees go out, as they are supposedly a way to restore them.

There is a strange relationship here regarding the Treelight. The light was supposedly for everyone, and Fëanor’s creation is seen as his even by the Valar. Then the trees go out and suddenly everyone has a right to the stones. Now morally you can argue Fëanor should have given the silmarils, but in terms of ownership, they are his. The light was for everyone. He took what was for everyone and made something his own from it that everyone acknowledged belonged to him.

I also agree that the Valar demanded obediance over their duty to protect to children of Illuvatar, however disagree on the allignment with Catholic principles which leads me to the next point.

3. Tolkien has stated in his letters that the Valar made a mistake and essentially went against Eru when they raised the Pelóri (I can't remember the letter number) to fence off Valinor, and left the men and Elves in Middle Earth to suffer.

He makes it clear that the only truely divine and supreme being is Eru, and the Valar, though emmiseries or angels of a sort, can and do mess up. They should not have been silent and left Beleriand to Morgoth and Middle Earth to Sauron. Manwë especially fell into pride and arrogance.

4. Regarding letter 183 ‘the West’ referred to are people within Middle Earth specifically, such as those of Gondor and Rohan. The point Tolkien’s making is regarding larger causes vs the good and evil people are capable of.

People can do bad things, but these actions do not necessarily mean their ultimate Cause is wrong. There is a difference between an action and the reason for it, one does not necessarily negate the other.

In this case, he says if the West (Gondor, Numenor, etc) bred orcs to attack men working under or around Sauron, the action would be wrong. But this doesn’t automatically make their ultimate goal of defeating Sauron wrong - Sauron is still a very real threat and must be defeated for everyone's sake. What happens regarding people who use brutal means of achieving this goal is separate to this goal.

This is something I think we can still agree with.

5. We can trouble Maia = inherent goodness/supremacy considering Sauron, Saruman, and the Balrogs, but I see what you mean.

However, I think the problem lies with how Tolkien percieves the Fëanorians more than the Sindar and Melian's line. Tolkien believes the light within the Silmarils ultimately belongs to the Valar, and everything that happened because Fëanor didn't means the Noldor have no claim to the gems. Going back to letter 183, the Cause of the Fëanorians is Wrong. They can do good things like fighting Morgoth, but remain ultimately 'bad.'

With this thinking, basically anyone has more of a right to the Silmarils than the Fëanorians. Luthien is superior to other elves because she hasn't hurt anyone or been the aggressor more than because she is part Maia. That's just a bonus and gives the impression she is less inclined to evil.

Furthermore her Cause is good. And her actions, driven by love, are portrayed as good. For Tolkien, she fulfils every need to take the claim of the silmaril.

Regarding Dior, I think here is when we see some of that Empire mindset rather than a religious one. Killing the dwarves for something they actually have more of a claim to screams colonial violence the British Empire was well known for.

I don't think the Maia heritage actually matters. It's Luthien who is generally referenced when they speak of her descendants, and I think that's because of her actions more than her mother.

6. Now all this in mind, we have to remember Tolkien uses a named narrator, and to keep within that he says he is merely translating writings into modern english. As such we can pull literally anything and everything written into question, to the point of taking something he believes about the writing and completely flipping it around.

Final Thoughts:

Arda was no doubt shaped by Tolkien's personal beliefs in empire and religion. But in reading the text only through this there is a danger in broadsweeping whole ideas into binary right and wrong when the points he is making are much more complex. Ultimately he deals with the human, and keeps to a loose style to evoke thoughts and discussion. It's important to remember that in any discussion of his work, we can hold opposing opinions and still be right. We don't have to follow his singular narrative.

~ Sorry this got so long, but you raised some very interesting points and ideas and I wanted to spend time on them. I know I haven't spoken much on the silmaril itself so if I missed something, please feel free to send another ask :)

[vera-simik]

At least once a year since... 2009? 😄

Praděd, jesenik mountains, czech republic

[ameliathornromance]

The Other Woman - Orc x Reader Angst

The Orc who you had fallen for, was the King’s personal guard! Although stern and menacing, he had always been kind to you.

You, the daughter of a Lord who worked on keeping the Queen company, answering her letters and mostly stayed out of sight of the King and his guard!

Since your families fortune was dwindling, your brothers securing marriages to rich young ladies, that made you the only one who wasn’t looked to much. Being a young woman in a family on the brink of ruin, meant that there wasn’t much for you to do other than try and get into the Regents good graces, and hope that you’d find a rich man who could take care of you.

But you’d never had such interest in men. It was always the King’s personal guard who caught your eye. Something about his stoic demeanour always made you feel safe, protected.

At first, you tried to keep your feelings a secret, there was no way that your family would approve of you harbouring such feelings towards the Orc, let alone even think about letting you marry him.

On a fateful night, where the King and Queen held a party, you were delighted when he approached you. You’d never taken him for being the one to make the first move. Not that you weren’t grateful.

That night, the pair of you had danced in the gardens were no one would see you, shared stolen kisses and giggled and laughed like you had never done before.

The pair of you promised to keep this a secret – nothing good would come of people knowing you two were together.

Not even the other Ladies in waiting knew about your relationship.

It was like something out of a novel. A forbidden romance, only a fantasy that could become a reality for a few glorious hours each time the pair of you got together.

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