#no wonder the rohirrim think the whole place is cursed
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
interesting how in the FA "beyond lay the wilderness of Dungortheb, where the sorcery of Sauron and the power of Melian came together, and horror and madness walked", then in the TA the Fangorn-Lorien-Mirkwood triangle of Weird Sorcery Forests exists between the domains of saruman, galadriel, necromancer-sauron, and radagast
#silm#silmarillion#lotr#the hobbit#nan dungortheb#fangorn forest#lothlorien#mirkwood#nan dungortheb had the original spawn of ungoliant; southern mirkwood has the giant spiders (probably lesser spawn)#all three forests were thought cursed in some way (fangorn's huorns + general ominousness; the mini-girdle in lorien)#the weird dol guldur area in southern mirkwood). mirkwood also has the dream-river and the possibly-magic-affected white deer in the hobbit#plus the way it slopes just right to appear endless from within#like. that's a whole lot of maia-power concentrated in one area#and that's coming from at least four distinct ainurin domains (aule; melian/vana; melkor; yavanna)#five if you count the balrog as a separate umaia; and double yavanna if the ents count as well#not to mention nenya doing its thing#and at least one palantir and possibly some dwarf rings in the mix#and also the concerning amount of enchanted dwarf stuff + enchanted celebrimbor stuff#no wonder the rohirrim think the whole place is cursed#also on the other side of the mountains you have elrond with his ulmo-magic and melian-magic and vilya#but hes not as close to saurons borders so rivendell is just Cool Elf Magic and not Terrifying Sorcery lol
97 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Notes: Hello, my friends!
I hope you’re all having a great time with the holidays. I’ve been camping at my parents since before Christmas and I’m ready to go back to my own place...
I don’t have anything new to share with you all (sorry about it), so I decided to share something not so new...
The name of this fanfic is “If I close my eyes (Will I see you tonight?)”. It’s a Éomer/Lothíriel fanfic and it’s definitely not safe for work. It is hot and hot and kind of hot. At least it was the intention… lol
So anyway… It all started with dreams... Hot, intense dreams that had no place in their heads... But they just kept dreaming.
Which is a way too deep way to say that King Éomer and Princess Lothíriel have been getting some pretty hot dreams. They keep seeing themselves with the same person, over and over again.
But they don't know who they are dreaming about.
It's okay. They are about to find out.
And so are you. Careful, the next few lines are already intense ;)
Chapter 1
“Éomer!” His name was a cry of pure pleasure and it thrilled him. He made her like this, his proper lady -so quiet and soft spoken- wasn’t that quiet on their bed.
The sight of her under him was mesmerizing: her long, thick hair was spread on the pillow, the light from the candles revealing the red hidden in its dark color; her pupils were blown so wide, they almost hid the beautiful grey of her eyes; she was biting her plump lower lip, probably trying to hold back on her moans. He loved how she felt around his cock: tight, wet and so hot. She was made for him.
He thrusted hard against her, knowing she loved it by the way her thighs squeezed his hips. He watched entranced as her tits bounced with his movements. Uncappable of stopping himself, he grabbed one of them in his big hands and gave it a squeeze, before flickering the nipple with his thumb.
“Éomer.” This time she said his name in a moan.
Éomer leaned in her direction, then bit her jaw on the spot he knew it drove her crazy. “What? Too much for you, Princess?” He asked, his hips still moving against hers.
Her laughter was sultry and breathless and it almost made him spill right there. “I wouldn’t have married a Horselord if I didn’t like rough rides.”
Her words made fire run through his veins. “Minx.” He growled at her. “If a rough ride is what you wish, I’ll give you one.”
He grabbed her right leg and hooked her knee over his elbow, opening her wider to him. He pounded into her and her cries of pleasure got obscenely loud. However, Éomer didn’t care if she woke up the whole of Edoras; her cries were for him and he intended to enjoy them all.
His name became a chant on her lips as her fingers found her nub. He himself had showed her that special spot.
She peaked so beautifully that Éomer swore he saw Heaven.
***
King Éomer sat suddenly on his cot, his heart beating like he’d just finished a battle.
What had that been?
He could say it’d been a dream -since he’d been sleeping -but it’d felt so real. Too real.
It was as if he could feel the sensations on his skin -the sweat, the heat -, the smells -wax from the candles, lavender -but, most of all, he could feel her. It was like he was touching her skin, tasting her mouth; he could feel her cunt wrapping around his cock.
“Béma!” Éomer cursed as he got up from his cot.
He was rock hard and he felt like a green boy, who couldn’t even have one dream about women without risking spilling on his pants.
But… It hadn’t felt like a dream; it’d felt like a memory. A damn good one at that.
However, it wasn’t a memory, since Éomer had never seen that woman before. A shame, because she was beautiful.
Probably too beautiful for the likes of him.
Éomer shook his head, trying to disperse the self-pitying thoughts. What was wrong with him today?
He could see the grey light that announced the sun would soon be rising. His men would be up in a short time, preparing to leave.
They were getting close to Minas Tirith, on their way to Éowyn’s wedding. Éomer felt the familiar heaviness in his heart from thinking about it. He was happy for his sister -he truly was -and Faramir was a good man -he’d be hard pressed to find a better one -but it still meant his sister was going to leave him alone.
He’d be the only one left in Edoras.
At least the depressing thoughts had taken care of his erection. He was about to spend the day riding, a hard cock would be big inconvenience.
***
Lothíriel gasped as he pounded into her. Her hands had nothing to grasp -the table’s surface was too smooth -and she’d probably have bruises on her thighs from where the table’s edge was digging into them.
However, she wasn’t complaining; not with how he felt inside her -so hot, so big, so hard -or with the feeling of his breath on her neck, his hands on her hips and the sound of slapping flesh.
Heavens, that man made her wanton. And she loved it.
His hand glided over her hip bone, until he found her pearl and flickered it with his thumb.
“Oh my…” She chocked on a curse. She hadn’t become that shameless yet.
She felt the rumble of his chest against her back as he laughed. “What was that, my Lady?” He asked, his hips slowing their pumping against her, until they were just lazy movements.
“Don’t stop.” She whined.
“Why not?” He asked, his breath hot against her ear. He was still moving, but it was torturously slow. “You prefer to be fucked hard?”
She gasped. “Don’t say things like that.” She spoke, but -deep down -she loved his words and he was quite aware of that.
“You love my words.” He teased, then bit her neck gently. “As much as you love being fucked.” He punctuated his affirmation with a sharp thrust of his hips.
Lothíriel was so close she almost sobbed. “Please…”
“You’re my Queen. You never have to beg me.” He told her before pulling her face to his.
She saw a flash of blonde hair before his mouth covered hers. It wasn’t really comfortable to kiss him like this, but she didn’t care.
Especially when he ended the kiss, pushed her down until she was flat against the table’s surface, then proceeded to royally fuck her.
***
Princess Lothíriel gasped as she woke up.
Her heart was about to explode on her chest, her nightgown was bunched up above her navel and she was covered in a layer of sweat.
What had that been?
What kind of dream was that?
Lothíriel had never heard words as vulgar as those, and the act itself… What was all of that?
She didn’t even know men and women could do things like that!
Or could they?
The princess sat in her bed and shook her head. What kind of wanton and shameful thoughts were those? What was wrong with her?
And the feelings in her body…
She was boiling hot and could still feel fingers on her skin, lips on her neck. The princess was startled to notice she was wet between her legs, and she wondered if it was sweat. However, she was also throbbing there and didn’t want to get anywhere near it to check.
Her governess would rap her knuckles if she even dreamed about the thoughts inside Lothíriel’s head.
The princess got up from her bed and sat by her vanity. She picked her favorite hair brush -the one that once belonged to her mother -and started dividing her hair in locks, them combed then gently, trying to calm her thoughts.
She had many things to do today; Minas Tirith was bursting with the preparations of Faramir’s wedding to the White Lady of Rohan. Her cousin had always been loved by the people of the city and Lady Éowyn was the slayer of the Witch King; it was bound to be a big event.
King Elassar’s own wedding had been a grand affair, and, even though Faramir and Éowyn didn’t want something as grand as that, it was still the celebration of the union of two beloved figures and two great nations.
And that meant…
The Rohirrim were coming. She’d finally meet the men that saved her family in battle.
She’d finally meet the King of Rohan.
Notes: Hope you enjoyed it!
Let me know if you did!
Happy New Year to all of you! See you soon ;)
#madame baggio#fanfiction#eomer#Lothiriel#eomer x lothiriel#The Lord of the Rings#chapter 1#images not mine#if i close my eyes
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
two blogs part 2
“the upstairs neighbors are being really loud and my tarot deck told me to relax can you believe this bullshit”
THE URUK-HAI
Ah, Uruk-hai. What could possibly be worse? I am here to tell you that what could be worse than being kidnapped by uruk-hai is if someone is fucking mowing a lawn outside and people will not stop walking around and moving furniture upstairs. Dump my body in a ditch and write ‘CAUSE OF DEATH: AUDITORY PROCESSING DISORDER’ on a scrap of paper tucked under my tongue. Anyway Pippin is not having a much better time than me. He wakes up from a nightmare lying tied up on the ground, looking at his scared (and also tied up) best friend. And FINALLY some Pippin interiority! He is dismayed that he has been worse than useless on this journey and also, obviously, that he is now at the mercy of a bunch of orcs. I like that his primary characteristic in Fellowship was that he kept trying to look tough when he thought he wasn’t... but as we’ll see he really is tough and resourceful!
The orcs notice Pippin is awake and start being mean to him immediately. One of them says “Curse the Isengarders!” out loud, which seems like a pretty bad idea unless you assume this orc is looking for a fight. I guess the fact that orcs have no common language between tribes is just a plot point that allows Pippin to understand what they’re saying? Basically they are just arguing about whose orders supersede who else’s orders. Some of them are even Moria orcs, and just want to do a revenge murder; why the hell did the professional warriors let them join?? Like it’s clear that the Mordor party and the Isengard party have sort of good reasons to cooperate, but I’m honestly surprised they didn’t just chase off the Moria orcs as soon as they showed up. Like who even are these guys? They don’t work for either of our masters. Deadweight. At any rate, Ugluk of Isengard doesn’t seem to want to let them leave now?? Just to show how In Command he is.
The orcs fight and a bunch of them get killed. Pippin takes the opportunity to cut his bonds on a dead man’s knife and retie them looser. Just in case. Then the party sets off again, and somehow Pippin actually manages to fall asleep while being carried by an orc. These hobbits, I swear. Anyway he wakes up later and is given some kind of... alcohol? Opiate? Some kind of painkiller. Merry gets ointment for the cut on his head, but because of Tolkien’s weird Thing this is portrayed as creepy and awful. Ugluk also tells Merry ‘You'll get bed and breakfast all right: more than you can stomach.' What. Ugluk you’re really bad at threats, that doesn’t even make sense. Well, they let Merry and Pippin run on their own legs, anyway. Everyone was tired of carrying them. The Moria orcs say they can’t run in the sunlight; Ugluk threatens them into silence. Aww.
Later they decide to run home through Fangorn--over a hundred of them. Oh holy shit how many orcs are there here?? I was picturing more like 40... but it sounds like after the northerners leave there’s around a hundred left. Apparently the Mordor orcs come back too, and there’s some delightful boasting:
‘What else did you come back for?’ said Uglúk. ‘You went in a hurry. Did you leave anything behind?'
'I left a fool,' snarled Grishnákh. 'But there were some stout fellows with him that are too good to lose. I knew you'd lead them into a mess. I've come to help them.'
'Splendid!' laughed Uglúk. 'But unless you've got some guts for fighting, you've taken the wrong way. Lugbúrz was your road. The Whiteskins are coming. What's happened to your precious Nazgûl? Has he had another mount shot under him?’
Sorry I kind of like Ugluk. He’s... fun.
The riders start to catch up, and the orc party camps out in the dark, waiting for them to attack. This seems pretty dumb--even if Rohirrim have better night vision than most humans and their horses “can see the night breeze” (ah yes... horses.... famously nocturnal animals...) it still makes more sense to attack at night. Well, while that standoff is going on, Grishnakh of Lugburz shows up and starts trying to get into Pippin and Merry’s pockets. Pippin decides to trick Grishnakh into thinking he has the Ring... for some reason?
'My dear tender little fools,' hissed Grishnákh, 'everything you have, and everything you know, will be got out of you in due time. You'll wish there was more that you could tell to satisfy the Questioner, indeed you will: quite soon. We shan't hurry the enquiry. Oh dear no! What do you think you've been kept alive for? My dear little fellows, please believe me when I say that it was not out of kindness: that's not even one of Uglúk's faults.'
Oh I looooove the way he talks. Merry succeeds in making him angry and frantic--he’s running out of time! And he runs toward the forest with both of them. But unfortunately, riders. He gets very murdered. The battle moves away, Merry and Pippin are left alone in the dark, and so obviously the very first thing they do is have some lembas. Hobbits!! After having their tea (at midnight. whatever.) they crawl off toward the Entwash. Merry, who unlike Pippin has actually looked at a map in his life, says they ought to go through Fangorn despite the warnings. So they go to the eaves of the wood and look back out at the battle taking place at sunrise.
Out of the shadows the hobbits peeped, gazing back down the slope: little furtive figures that in the dim light looked like elf-children in the deeps of time peering out of the Wild Wood in wonder at their first Dawn.
GOOD IMAGERY, very sweet. Our hobbits almost stay, but it looks like Ugluk and a few others are about to get away into the forest, so they end up running. You were soooo close guys. Now instead of meeting their companions straight off, they’re going to end up with
TREEBEARD
They follow the Entwash for a while until they find a stony outcropping they can climb up. They go on quite a bit about how old and treeish the forest is (no duh) but when the sun comes out Pippin “almost feels he likes the place.”
'Almost felt you liked the Forest! That's good! That's uncommonly kind of you,' said a strange voice. 'Turn round and let me have a look at your faces. I almost feel that I dislike you both, but do not let us be hasty.’
Here he is! The reason I say HOOM every time I am thinking for the last ten years. Tolkien actually describes him as fairly humanoid, although he is fourteen feet tall and also has fourteen toes. He says he’s an ent, but doesn’t know what Merry and Pippin are. He sings the whole “all the creatures there are” song, which is very endearing, and doesn’t find them in the list. I love Treebeard’s preoccupation with true names; he doesn’t want to tell his (and at any rate, it would take a very long time to say!) and he’s absolutely honored by Pippin and Merry’s confidence when they tell him who they are. He also does some cute monologuing, and mentions Gandalf, “the only wizard who really cares about trees.” Surely Radagast must care a little, if only for birds to nest in!
Treebeard knows a lot of tongue-twisters. He knows one about Laurelindorenan (which is almost a tongue-twister itself); he would have advised people to stay away from queer Lothlorien just as Celeborn advised our heroes to stay away from Fangorn! So insular... He talks a lot about the old days, and sings some too. I love him very much. I find it hard to summarize anything to do with Treebeard if I read too far ahead; at any rate we come to a place that may be called Wellinghall, and the hobbits tell him of their adventures. Treebeard is troubled by Saruman and wonders what to do about him. He gets himself worked into a right frenzy over Saruman’s awful doings--and then says, now, I mustn’t be hasty. He’ll call a council tomorrow, but for now he explains the curiously sexist reasons all the entwives are gone.
Entwives like order, and they like to direct things to grow just so, whereas ents are more nomadic and live as herdsmen and wanderers. What the fuck Tolkien. Can you just... not... I’m not sure he has properly talked with a woman in his life. Anyway, the gardens of the entwives have been destroyed by Sauron, and nobody saw where the entwives themselves went. IMO the safest bet would be east of Sauron’s domain; he probably doesn’t have a huge amount of interest in spreading out there, far from the organized resistance in the west.
So. Entmoot. Takes place in the Derndingle. A dingle, by the way, is a landform also known as a dell, sort of like a very small valley. Not to be confused with a dale, which is both derived from the same Old English word and apparently has an almost identical definition. Thanks, Wikipedia. I’ll be sure not to get those confused. Anyway after a few hours Treebeard comes and finds the hobbits to tell them it will take a couple of days to explain everything to the other ents; he’s brought as a companion for them an ent named Quickbeam, who is so hasty that he has already decided what he wants to do about Saruman. Yowza. He’s a fun guy, laughs a lot, likes to sing. They stay at his ‘house,’ and he talks about the beautiful rowan grove he used to live in, and how the orcs destroyed it. “That seemed to the hobbits quite enough to explain his 'hastiness', at least in the matter of Orcs.” At last, after three days, the ents have come to a decision. Their war song is so delightful--its unstoppable rhythm!--that I have to put the whole thing here for you.
To Isengard! Though Isengard be ringed and barred with doors of stone; Though Isengard be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare as bone, We go, we go, we go to war, to hew the stone and break the door; For bole and bough are burning now, the furnace roars - we go to war! To land of gloom with tramp of doom, with roll of drum, we come, we come; To Isengard with doom we come!
Burarum! “We are made of the bones of the earth. We can split stone like the roots of trees, only quicker, far quicker, if our minds are roused!” Treebeard says this might be the last march of the ents--Saruman is powerful, after all. But better to face doom this way and destroy Saruman than to wait as he grows ever stronger for doom to find them! The ents are going to war!
6 notes
·
View notes