#our lady Galadriel of Lothlorien | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-fiction-witch · 2 months ago

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You Don't Know What You're Asking For

Media - Rings Of Power Character - Elrond Couple - Elrond X Reader Reader - Y/n (Daughter of Galadriel and Celebron, Basically taking the place of Celebrían) Rating - 15 Word Count - 3118

Elrond even to this day found immortality rather strange and somewhat uncomfortable. He watched friends age and wither while he still lingers. He watched castles turn to dust. He watched the peace he helped create be abused by whichever opportunist sought power and pride. Twenty years seemed to pass in a blink of an eye and all things seemed to fade away. But there were small joys to in immorality, the soft joy of winters end and the gentle blooms of spring, as well as the visits few and far between of those he cared for,

Today was such an occasion, the lady Galadriel was visiting, with her husband Celeborn and daughters, from their usual home of LothLorien,

He smiled, feeling his features ease into a relaxed and welcoming smile before waving towards the small party,

First to emerge was lord Celeborn, who then took the hand of his wife Galadriel to aid her down from the horse,

"My lord, it has been too many of these long years," she greeted,

Elrond gave a light laugh, "It truely has been long, too many years" he replied, returning the greeting with a bow and taking her hands, "You look as radiant as ever my lady,"

She smiled the two sharing a moment in peace after such a long friendship,

"Last I saw this place it was a barely pile of rocks and mortar," lord Celeborn laughed, "you have crafted her into a place grander than Lindon I think,"

Elrond laughed, raising one of his hands in a dismissive gesture, clearly proud of the work the elves and men of Rivendell had done, but humble enough to not openly say this at the lavish praise of his home, "I simply provided the groundwork, a place for the great people of middle earth to call home, and it bloomed into this" he replied,

"A second home for many I'm sure" Galadriel smiled just as three girls approached,

Last elrond saw them the two eldest where barely maidens, and the third didn't exist. Now three stood before him.

"May I introduce, Themyscira our youngest" she explained and the little girl no higher then a hobbit bowed in her little blue gown,

Elrond chuckled at the introduction, lowering down to kneel in front of the young maid, smiling as she bowed to him, "It is a pleasure to meet you, little one" he said, his voice warm and soft, gentle and welcoming as he took her tiny fingers into his hand giving her hand a proper little kiss,

"And of course, you will recall Mellimina" Galadriel nodded,

The last time he saw the middle daughter she was a meer child no taller then his knee, she now stood almost to his shoulder with long blonde hair like her mother in a soft yellow gown,

"It is a pleasure, my lord," Melimina bowed,

Elrond nodded remembering her as a little girl, He was surprised by how fast she'd grown and how grown up, "No need for that, mellimina" he said warmly, waving a dismissive hand, "I am simply a friend, no need for titles and formalities" he smiled taking her hand to give it a polite kiss too,

"And I'm sure you shall recall Y/n," Galadriel smiled,

And for a moment elrond was speechless, Y/n, galadriel’s eldest daughter, last he saw her she was barely a maiden coming into her own, she stood now at his shoulder, a bodythat would be a Syren call for any man, wearing a lilac gown with embroidered stars, with hair pins of silver stars gracing her locks, a elvish gem necklace around her neck,

She looks up at him with eyes like gems as she bows without a word,

Elrond stared in awe, his heart beating a little faster as he looked upon the woman who stood before him. She was not the girl he remembered, she was grown now, grown and stunning. All the air seemed to flee his lungs as he gazed into those emerald eyes, her image in front of him like a vision that he would gladly lose himself in for an eternity. He stared for a few beats, unable to speak as he returned from the trance and gave her a nod, praying to the Valar that nobody had noticed his stare or the pink hue creeping across his cheeks, he swallowed, trying desperately to regain his composure and force the words from his lips "I remember you well my lady," he smiled taking her hand and giving it a slightly prolonged kiss,

"I to recall you my lord, I admit such memories I am reminded of fondly, I hope such years have blessed you with good health since last we met?" Y/n smiled, she spoke like a proper elven lady, much like her mother

a warm, genuine smile played across elronds lips as he nodded in response. She was as poised and as elegant as he remembered, but now there was also a maturity about her, a beauty that he'd never noticed before. He would get lost in the sound of her voice had it not been for her question, "Yes- yes I am well," he replied, his mind suddenly blank as he found it near impossible to think of anything to say when he stared into those eyes of hers, he took a quiet breath, gathering his thoughts and composure as he prepared to speak. He was a powerful elf Lord and commander, and yet now, in front of this beautiful maiden all he could think of was the way her gown shone in the sunlight, the way her lips moved when she smiled and the way her necklace sparkled against her neck, "And you my lady.. you are well?" he asked, silently cursing himself at how awkward he felt in this moment. He sounded like a flustered fool, stumbling over his words

"I have been blessed by such peace," she nodded

Luckily Galadriel and Celeborn requested to prepare their room, the younger girls did also but,

“If it is all the same I would adore a walk of the Rivendell Gardens,” Y/n smiled, “The foliage this time of year is so divine,”

“Yes, yes of course I’d be happy to take you.” he nodded

Galadriel, Celeborn and the girls excused themselves, Elrond praying silently they would keep a safe distance. He turned his attention back to Y/n, now alone in the courtyard.

Elrond exhaled a breath he had been holding, a soft sound of relief, his nerves slowly fading as he smiled warmly at her and offered his arm to lead her down to the gardens, he walked slowly beside her, silently trying to come up with something to say "You've grown so much.. you were just a small girl last I saw you" he laughed softly

she smiled as they walked, her hands wrapped around his arm in a very lady like way,

"Yes, the years have been long since last we are one another. I believe it was when you came to visit lothlorien before the birth of Themescara, I was but a child then,"

"Just a small child yes," he agreed quietly, his mind wandering back to the memory. He could still picture her, running through the gardens chasing butterflies, her little dress covered in a dusting of dirt, he chuckled as a thought crossed his mind, causing him to look at the woman beside him "You did cause quite a bit of mischief as a girl"

"I suppose it is the blessing of all children, to be graced with such chaos" She smiled,

He chuckled quietly, the image of her small form tearing through the gardens still clear in his mind "Yes.. though not all children have quite the same level of chaos. I believe you were one of the worst"

"I suppose I was, but isn't that the job of a first born?" She laughed

he laughed with her, shaking his head and looking down at the ground, "No, my sweetling, the job of the first born child is to be a good example, good role to their younger siblings, not to cause chaos" he teased gently, his voice soft and warm

she softly blushed "I know, I straightened up of course, for my sister's and for the people of lothlorien,"

he smiled down at her, seeing the blush that had risen to her soft cheeks. He felt a strange flutter in his stomach, butterflies that he had not felt before, as he looked at her face. He swallowed a lump in his throat, his thoughts racing as he desperately tried to find something to say, "Of course.. and look at you now, such a proper elvish lady" he teased gently

"I do my best" she smiled "… Father says he must take me to Lindon" she said rather sadly

he felt a pang in his heart as she spoke, a soft frown on his face. "To lindon… why?" he asked, his voice quiet and sad. The idea of losing sight of her again, being unable to see her or speak with her left a sour feeling in his chest.

"To formally present me to the elven court, and the high king." She nodded "as daughter of lady galadriel and lord celeborn, I am to be formally presented at court, so I may be wed to a high elven lord" she explained sadly

his heart clenched at the sound of the last part of her words, a cold feeling forming in his chest and a bitter taste in his mouth. His mind filled with cruel images of her being courted by high elven lords, her gentle laugh heard in the halls when she smiled at some young commander, her arm linked with another mans. It filled him with a strange mixture of anger and sadness. he tried his hardest to keep the anger he felt from showing in his voice "So.. you will be wed"

"I must do what my father commands of me"

he felt the words like a stab to his heart, a deep sadness filling the place where the anger had been. He had held her as a child, watched her grown into woman and now, after all these long years he was so close to losing her again "You could refuse" he said suddenly, his grip on her arm tightening. He stopped and pulled her to a halt, forcing her to face him

"I do not wish to upset them" she said "I must do what is best for my people, must I not?"

"But it may not be best for you" he said, gripping her upper arms now, turning her body to face him. "Being wed to some commander, some high elven lord, forced to live far out in lindon, is that truly what you want?" he asked, his voice quiet and pleading

"… I want whatever will make my family happy, whatever makes my people happy, whatever brings peace and tranquility is all I desire. And if my happiness is what must be the price then … So be it"

he felt a lump form in his throat, the thought of her sacrificing her happiness for others breaking his heart. He found himself taking a step closer to her, still holding her arms firmly, his fingers gripping the soft material of her gown "You can't possibly believe that. You deserve more than that, you deserve to be happy too"

"… I gave up many happinesses in the years since you last saw me. I suppose that's part of maturity, learnt to then away from that which use to bring you such joy…"

he stared down at her, his heart wrenching in his chest at her words. Without thinking, he reached up and cupped her cheeks, his fingers on either side of her face

she gasped her lips parted,

He swallowed, looking down at her. He noticed every feature now, the way her lashes framed her eyes, the rosy pink colour of her lips, the way her hair framed the soft curves of her face "You cannot give up on yourself" he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion "you cannot just accept that you will be unhappy…"

"… If I did what I knew would make me happy, I would have been cast out years ago" she whispered "there is… So much in this world I… desire. But my own pleasure and joy is not the life of a lady… Even if I so wish it could be"

he felt her words like a physical blow, his chest aching under the weight of emotion. Every part of him longed to pull her close, to hold her against his chest and assure her he could give her whatever she desired, to kiss those soft pink lips till he had taken all the air from her lungs. But he held himself firmly in place, his hands gripping her cheeks gently "And what is it you desire my sweetling…"

Without a single word, she moved to her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, he lips soft and tender, she smelt of lavender flowers and tasted of strawberries, her hands settling on his chest as she pulled back enough to see his eyes

he froze in shock for a moment, unable to believe the soft feeling of her lips on his. For a moment, it seemed to him that the earth had stopped turning, that the world was no longer moving. The press of her lips against his own was like a jolt of electricity that shot through his body. It took an almost painful amount of effort on his part to prevent him from wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him, crushing her body against his in an embrace, until she pulled back and he gazed down at her, his heart racing "that.. was what you wanted?"

"mhm," she nodded her fingers playing with his clothes a little,

he exhaled a shaky breath, his mind still swirling from the feeling of her lips on his own. The way she played with the material of his clothes sent a strange shiver down his spine, and it took a lot of effort to not press her back against the nearest tree and claim her for himself he gazed down at her, unable to look away from her beautiful face, her pretty pink lips "And what else do you desire, sweetling?"

she softly bit her bottom lip and pushed his arms to entrap her waist

he let her move his hands, the feeling of the soft material of her gown under his fingers like silk as he slid his hands down to her waist. He could feel her body under the fine material, every curve of her waist and hips, and it took all of his self control to not pull her body against his, "And what else?… Tell me, sweetling" he said again, his voice thick with desire and need

"hummm I think it's your turn to tell me something you desire, my lord."

he swallowed, his hands gripping the material of her gown, taking in the feeling of her body against his palms. He wanted her. He wanted her so badly that he ached from the want of her. He wanted to hold her, feel every curve of her body, to run his hands through her hair, taste her skin.. he wanted her so badly it was like a fire in his blood he took a quiet breath, trying to control himself "You.. I desire you"

she bit her lip a little harder, and she giggled a little as he pulled her against him, squeezing their bodies together, "as so I" she whispered against his lips

he swallowed a gasp as he pulled her close to him, the feeling of her body against his own sending a shiver down his spine. He could smell the scent of lavender and it filled his mind with thoughts, of tangled legs and the sound of her soft moans. He longed desperately to run his fingers across her skin, to find every sensitive spot on her body and claim it for himself, he lifted a hand to her chin, tilting her face so they were only inches apart "How am I to keep my hands to myself if you do that"

"I do not wish you to keep them to yourself" she softly giggled

a smirk slowly formed on his face as he heard her words, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her chin as he gazed down at her, "Oh sweetling" he whispered, his heart racing, desire and need filling his body like liquid fire "you don't know what you're asking for"

"I have had years to know what I am asking…" She whispered back

he exhaled a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he tried to control himself. The feel of her body against his own was driving him insane, the sound of her voice in his ear sending his heart racing. He knew this should stop, that he should pull away from her before it was to late, before he could no longer control the fire in his blood. but her words, her breath against his ear, her body so close to his, it was like a drug that he could not resist, "You don't know what I want to do to you, sweetling"

she softly Giggled "I do not, but I'd like to know."

he felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound of her laugh, her voice like sweet music to his ears. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the soft skin of her neck, just below her ear "I want to touch you. I want to hold you… I want to bury myself in you" he whispered quietly, his voice thick with desire

she blushed hard craning her neck to allow him more space to kiss

he pressed a line of soft kisses down her neck, his hands gripping her sides as he whispered against her skin "I want to hear you moan" he purred, his voice like velvet "I want to taste you, make you come undone in my arms" he continued to kiss down her neck, his hands moving to her rear and pulling her body against his as he whispered in her ear "I want to take you to my bed and keep you there, so I can hear the lovely noises you make when I touch you"

she giggled once more as he pulled her as tight to him as possible, his hands on her ass, her chest pressed against his, heaving as she gasps desperately, "Then what is stopping you?"

he felt a shiver of pleasure run down his spine, the way her body was pressed against his own like sweet torture. Her voice in his ear, the feeling of her in his hands making his heart race, his blood burn, "Nothing." he whispered, his voice thick with need. He took her hand and pulled her towards his chambers…

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thatfanficstuff · 7 months ago

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Color My World - Haldir (LOTR)

Pairing: Haldir x soulmate!reader

warnings: nothing beyond canon

The forest of Lothlorien loomed before a weary band of travelers, known to some as the Fellowship. Their steps were heavy with exhaustion, a mantle of grief weighing them down. Their companion, the wizard Gandalf, had fallen mere hours before. But they didn’t have time to stop, to allow their hearts a moment to heal. The orcs would come and the group needed to be safely within the depths of the forest before they did.

You walked beside Frodo in the middle of the group, your eyes darting between taking in the beauty around you and keeping an eye on your companions. Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy above you, bathing the world in golden rays. Even the bark of the trees glittered faintly with hints of gold. You could only imagine how stunning it would be if you had already met your soulmate. All the muted, faded colors you saw would be bright and vivid. You never wished for it more than at moments like this.

“Can you feel the trees watching us?” Frodo’s voice, barely above a murmur, broke the fragile silence.

You placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “There have been eyes on us since we stepped foot in the forest, little hobbit.”

He looked up in surprise and you squeezed gently as you gave him a soft smile. “No worries. All be fine.”

“Thank you for being here,” he said, his tone hovering between gratitude and fear.

“We all have our purposes in this life, Frodo Baggins. Mine is make sure you complete yours.”

As you continued, you ignored Gimli’s talk of elven sorceresses and enchantments. You were too focused on the force gathering along the edges of your senses. The elves had sent a welcoming party. Of a sort.

Suddenly and almost silently, the Fellowship was surrounded. Elves with arrows drawn in you and your companions faces. With an arched brow you stepped in front of Frodo and pushed the arrow aside that was nearly brushing your nose. Ridiculous. Arrows did much more damage if they had a little room to move.

“The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark,” a rich voice said as the most beautiful man you’d ever seen addressed Aragorn. The elf observed your group, taking each of you in. When his gaze met your own, he lingered ever so slightly before turning back to the king. “Why do you enter the woods of the Lady of Light?”

The quiet words stoked something deep inside you, a yearning that had followed you your whole life. A cascade of vibrant color burst forth with the marchwarden at its center. Greens deepened into a multitude of shades. The golden undertones of the trees shimmered with new life.

As he and Aragorn spoke, every syllable from his lips only brought more beauty to your world. And every word bound your soul more tightly to his. You wove your fingers together, a poor effort at self-restraint as you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze from his profile. You’d heard so many stories of this elf and now, seeing him in person, he was everything you could ever desire in a mate. And he was far too important for someone like you. Finally, you tore your eyes away as he turned to lead the Fellowship deeper into the trees.

You weren’t certain how far you walked or how many stairs you climbed before you were greeted by the ethereal presence of Celeborn and Galadriel. You half listened to the conversation about the fate of your wizard as your attention kept flicking over to Haldir who stood to the side looking straight ahead. It felt odd that you were so connected to him and he didn’t even know you existed. That he knew nothing of your bond. It was for the best, you knew that, but it didn’t make your heart hurt any less.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned your head to find Galadriel looking at you though she spoke to the Fellowship as a whole. You bit back a gasp as you heard her lyrical voice in your head. “Within these woods, bonds deeper than the roots of the mallorn trees are forged. You have felt the stirring of such a bond, child of the outside world. Your connection with Haldir is stronger than you know. An intertwining of souls, a sharing of strengths. Together, you harbor magic that will aid you on your quest.”

“Magic?” you thought back.

Rather than answering, the corner of her lips curled into a knowing smile and she gave you a small nod. “When you need it the most, it will be there,” she said aloud. Your companions frowned in confusion but you ignored their questions as Haldir showed all of you to where you would be spending the evening.

You managed to leave the elves without Haldir finding out who you were to him. Your friends found it odd that you refused to speak louder than a whisper until you were well on your way down the river but you simply waved off their questions. It was better this way. No matter how utterly alone you suddenly felt.

Days turned into weeks. Frodo and Sam had gone off on their own. Boromir had fallen. Gandalf had returned. And now you stood with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli at Helm’s Deep alongside an army made up mostly of old men and boys. Hope was fleeting that most of you would make it through the night. Gandalf had told you to look for him at the dawn but that was many hours away.

You stood on the wall watching a storm roll in while the others prepared themselves for battle. You’d taken care of that hours ago. A horn blasting drew your attention. Elven archers marched toward the keep. You grinned, feeling hope for the first time in days. The smile fell as you saw who was leading them. Haldir. He wasn’t supposed to be here. It was too dangerous. He was supposed to be safe in Lothlorien.

You watched Aragorn greet him, Legolas by his side. Haldir glanced up when they finished, his gaze finding yours. He studied your face for a moment before nodding a greeting. You nodded in return then slipped away into the crowd, making sure the rabble were as prepared as possible for the coming attack.

While Aragorn moved through the ranks of elves on the wall, you stood with Legolas and Gimli. The hordes of orcs and Uruk-hai approached, banging weapons on the ground as they came. You rested a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder trying to calm him as he bounced around. “Steady on,” you told him as you prepared your bow.

And then they came in a flood of anger and teeth. Chaos reigned around you as you slashed and dodged. Rain fell in heavy drops as lightning flashed in the sky and thunder roared. You focused solely on the opponents around you until King Theoden called for a retreat to the inner walls. Aragorn grabbed your arm and pulled you along as he yelled for the men to fall back. When he turned and yelled Haldir’s name, you turned with him.

Haldir acknowledged the order a breath before he was surrounded by iron and hate. A blade stabbed toward him even as he cut the wielder down.

Heat surged through your veins as fear swamped you. You unleashed your fury with a cry torn from the very depths of your soul. The world seemed to slow as a shimmering shield surrounded your soulmate, deflecting the blade that would have run him through. His eyes found yours, wide with astonishment.

You ignored Aragorn calling your name as newfound strength flowed through you. You weaved through the melee, each step bringing you closer to Haldir’s side. Finally, you reached him and helped dispatch the orcs that swarmed him. When there was an opening for you to move, you grabbed the breastplate of his armor and pulled him toward the stairs. “Move, Marchwarden.”

The battle was over after a last minute save from the Rohirrim and the Ents. As soon as you had a moment to breathe a breath you weren’t convinced would be your last, Haldir grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side where you could have some semblance of privacy.

His hands cradled your face as his thumbs traced your cheeks. He looked you over with wonder.

“Why did you say nothing when first we met?” he asked. “Why keep your connection to me hidden?”

You grasped his wrists in your hands. “If the bond was complete, formed on both sides, what would happen to you if I died on this quest?”

The silence stretched as he studied you. “A partial truth at best, hiril vuin.” (my lady)

You sighed and looked away from him, unable to meet his eye as you confessed. “I did not wish to be a burden upon you. I feared the revelation would be a disappointment.”

He ran his thumbs along your skin again to bring your attention back to him. “You are the furthest cry from a disappointment. Your courage, your strength, your heart…they are gifts more precious than the rarest jewels of my people.”

You searched for any signs of deception from him. Finding none, a smile crossed your face. He mirrored it before leaning forward to press his lips to yours. It took only a moment before you returned the gesture with equal fervor.

For a moment, you could forget about your quest. Forget about the death that surrounded you. Because here in the midst of so many endings, was your beginning and you intended to hold onto it with all of your heart.

#haldir x reader #haldir fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #haldir x soulmate #lotr soulmate au #soulmate au

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phoenixrisesoncemore · 1 year ago

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Why Eru Didn’t Trip Gollum: Providence, Free Will, and Con-creation in The Lord of the Rings—Part 5 of 5

[Go back to PART 4: Examining the Threads]

Part 5: Re-weaving The Tapestry

Threads of Fate

Peter Jackson was not wrong to be concerned that the implication (true or not) that the Ring was destroyed by accident would not sit well with some portion of his viewers. We yearn for some sense or meaning in the apparent chaos and happenstance of life; that storytelling exists at all may be sufficient evidence of this. Yet it is also true that we shrink in terror at the idea that our actions are not our own, that fate has us in a deterministic grasp. It is such a deterministic force that Plato in his Timaeus called ananke or “material necessity,” a force innate to matter which even his demiurgic God could not overcome.

The characters in The Lord of the Rings seem interested in and aware of some form of mysterious order at work in the world. “Chance,” “luck,” and “happenstance” are repeatedly invoked in the text and often with a wink and a smile: whether it be in Bilbo’s “chance” encounter with the Ring just before the Necromancer is driven from Dol Guldur, “if chance it was” (250), Gandalf’s “chance” meeting with Thorin in Bree which leads to the events of The Hobbit, the “chance” encounter of the three traveling hobbits with Gildor’s elves in the Shire at just such a moment as to save the hobbits from the Black Riders, Tom Bombadil’s fortuitous and life-saving “chance” encounter with the same hobbits in the Old Forest, their “lucky” meeting with Strider in Bree, Boromir and Legolas’s “fortuitous” arrival to Rivendell at just the right time, or the “good fortune” of Gollum’s faulty footing. Yet, amid all this talk of fate and chance and luck we are given constant references to the fate-altering power of free will.

Choice absolutely does have a real effect on the world of Tolkien’s Middle-earth. Bilbo’s choice to extend pity to Gollum may “rule the fate of many” (59); Frodo realizes that he is “free to choose” (401) on the seat of Amon Hen; Faramir chooses not to follow the summons to Rivendell he hears in his dreams, leaving his brother Boromir to do so instead; most importantly, Frodo’s acts of pity enable the destruction of the Ring. This is no deterministic universe. In Middle-earth free will is absolutely real. So how can forces like “fate” and “choice” interact in a coherent way?

In her paper “Providence, Fate, and Chance: Boethian Philosophy in The Lord of the Rings” Kathleen E. Dubs recalls the words of Galadriel in Lothlorien after she has refused Frodo’s offer of the Ring:

They stood for a long while in silence. At length the Lady spoke again. ‘Let us return!’ she said. ‘In the morning you must depart, for now we have chosen, and the tides of fate are flowing.’” These ideas (free will and fate) are not incompatible if we view them in Boethian terms, for free will operates within the order of the universe, fate being merely the earthly manifestation of that order. And here we can see more clearly than before that free will sets that order in motion; Frodo’s and the Lady’s choices have determined the direction of that order, have set the tides flowing. It has not worked in the reverse direction. For ‘determinism’ to be applicable here, it would have to be defined anew. (40)

Perhaps we might say that in Middle-earth when you choose, you are set on a course to your “doom.” These threads of fate, chosen and redirected by acts of free will, are heading towards something, some destination, some “doom,” and if you’ve been paying attention at all, you’ve likely noticed “doom” appearing a lot among these last several thousand words. It is surely no coincidence that the geographical goal of the quest—the setting for the climax of the action of the plot—is a place called The Cracks of Doom inside a mountain called Mount Doom over a magma pool called The Fire of Doom. It is here that many choices shall finally join together to “produce the situation” that ultimately allows the threat of Sauron to be overcome.

All Rivers Lead to Doom

Perhaps we can also conclude that the climax of The Lord of the Rings is described in passive terms by Tolkien because we are meant to view it as the setting of the revelation and working-out of a long-developing pattern, the outcome of which was clear all along. Tolkien says he “did not ‘arrange’ the deliverance in this case: it again follows the logic of the story” (Letters 251) and that “following the logic of the plot, it was clearly inevitable, as an event” (252).

The actions that take place when Frodo, Sam, and Gollum finally meet their “Doom” are merely the last in a long row of dominoes: most of the necessary actions that would lead to the overthrow of Sauron are in the past, and most of the consequential choices have already been made. We could speculate about where that line of dominoes started. A reasonable place to point to is the moment when Bilbo puts his hand on the Ring “blindly in the dark” (Tolkien, Lord of the Rings 55). However, we could also push it back further to Gandalf’s meeting with Thorin in Bree, or even further still: there’s a lot of “setting up” that Sauron does to himself. The choice to partly incarnate himself in a destructible object made him far more vulnerable, especially as it is an object that engenders in people such overpowering lust for it that they’d do something as unwise as dancing on the edge of a precipice above boiling magma.

As we can see, an important part of this pattern is evil’s propensity towards creating the circumstances of its own self-destruction, a theme so important that Tolkien includes it in his Legendarium’s creation myth. In “Ainulindale,” the first chapter of The Silmarillion, the Ainur are asked to compose and perform a Great Music together, improvising on Themes supplied by Eru. This Music will later become a blueprint of sorts for the universe. When Melkor, Tolkien’s analog to the Christian Lucifer, attempts to disrupt the Music by overpowering the other Ainur with his own repetitive and loud improvisations, Eru admonishes him and warns him that for all he tries to disrupt the Music and make it solely his own, his Discord shall ultimately work against him: “For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined” (17).

Gandalf’s proverb “oft Evil will shall evil mar” (Tolkien, Lord of the Rings 594) expresses a reality that is part of the metaphysical foundation of Tolkien’s Secondary World. It is, therefore, metaphysically and thematically appropriate that Gollum’s lust for the Ring and glee at its return leads to his literal fall. The necessary conscious act of good intent—throwing the Ring in the Fire—was one no one was capable of. As Paul Kocher explains in his early piece of literary criticism of Tolkien’s work, Master of Middle-earth, “The irony of evil is consummated by its doing the good which good could not do” (45).

The sudden revelation of a salvific pattern—created via the weaving together of a fate derived from choices both good and bad—at the moment when all hope seems lost, represents perhaps the perfected mode of eucatastrophe. “Eucatastrophe” is a term Tolkien coined to describe “the happy turn” in fairy-stories (as he defines them), and it first appears in his essay, appropriately titled, On Fairy-stories. On Fairy-stories was written during the early years of Tolkien’s work on The Lord of the Rings and may be considered the conceptual background to the kind of narrative story-telling at work in his epic (Tolkien On Fairy-stories 15). In his description of eucatastrophe Tolkien says “[Eucatastrophe] depends on the whole story which is the setting of the turn, and yet it reflects a glory backwards” (76). This glory is the sudden realization, whether in the mind of the reader or the characters, that those events which had seemed to be chance or luck—especially bad luck—when experienced within the flow of the story, have in fact worked together for their deliverance.

In light of the above, I would argue that the “Eru tripping” interpretation contradicts both the dramatic intention of the scene and the very notion of this “backwards reflecting” eucatastrophe by adding a singular, direct, and unilateral cause for the Ring’s destruction in the very moment before this destruction happens—a cause which, because it is performed directly by Eru in the manner of a miracle, needs have no regard to the long line of causes which precedes it. This same undermining of dramatic intention applies to the interpretation that claims a curse tripped Gollum. Would a curse need a long line of causes behind it to function? In both cases, these other causes are superseded and become unnecessary. Additionally, the passive approach sounds much more like using Discord itself to bring the Music back into accord with the Theme. But if Gollum’s fall is passive in this sense—the end result of many, many choices woven together into fate—then what does Tolkien mean by his comments about the “Writer of the Story?”

Perpetual Production

Just because the cause of Gollum’s fall is passive, just because Eru didn’t “trip” Gollum, does not mean his fall is truly “accidental,” because Eä—the universe and the entire playing out of the events within in it—is conceived, in-text, as a Story or Drama[8]. In his essay “Over the Chasm of Fire,” Stanford Caldecott notes that Sam’s comments after the climax of The Lord of the Rings have a much more literal meaning than Sam may even realize: “‘What a tale we have been in, Mr Frodo, haven’t we? I wish I could hear it told!’ (…) Sam has bridged the gap, and seen their own lives as part of a great tale full of wonder and meaning, that stretches from the beginning of time to its mysterious end” (32).

When Tolkien uses the words “Writer of the Story” he makes it clear he is not referring to himself (though the humorous comparison may well be on his mind[9]). In this aspect I think the “tripped” interpretation is absolutely correct: “the Writer of the Story” is a reference to Eru. My disagreement comes in what it means for Eru to “take over” the story.

The world of Middle-earth is a pre-Christian one, far more like the fading pagan backdrop of the world in Beowulf than the Christian allegory of Narnia, but Tolkien was also quite devoutly Catholic, his faith a potent and foundational part of his worldview (though it should be noted that to say this is not the same as to say it was the entirety of his worldview or that he was always of one mind on matters of faith and theology). Just as the characters in The Lord of the Rings appear to be aware of some sense of fate at work in the world, many also attribute to that fate a kind of rational intention outside the bounds of mere determinism. As Gandalf says to Frodo regarding Bilbo’s discovery of the Ring: “Behind that there was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker” (56). This guiding or shepherding—but not controlling—of people and events is Providence. Tolkien repeatedly refers to Providence when describing the events of the climax of The Lord of the Rings.

No account is here taken of ‘grace’ or the enhancement of our powers as instruments of Providence. Frodo was given ‘grace’: first to answer the call (…) and in his endurance of fear and suffering. But grace is not infinite, and for the most part seems in the Divine economy limited to what is sufficient for the accomplishment of the task appointed to one instrument in a pattern of circumstances and other instruments. (454)

Frodo had done what he could and spent himself completely (as an instrument of Providence) and had produced a situation in which the object of his quest could be achieved. (325)

What form Providence takes within Eä is less clear. What or who was “guided” such that Bilbo found the Ring? And in what way? Did Eru “cause” Gandalf to reach Bree at just such a time as to meet Thorin, setting in motion Gandalf’s hunt for a burglar? Or did he “cause” the same for Thorin? Did he make the floor of the goblin tunnels below the mountain crumble under Bilbo, landing him directly in the Ring’s path? Or did he guide Bilbo’s hand “blindly in the dark” until it brushed against cold metal? We cannot say with any certainty. These providential interventions are such that, if they do in fact exist, we do not or cannot see them. We cannot verify them, and in the moment they seem easily attributable to a variety of other causes or merely to “accident.” Unlike The Silmarillion’s explicitly stated and miraculous interventions—the awakening of the Elves or the Drowning of Numenor—we are never told what these providential interventions are or when they take place. We can only, like Gandalf, suspect them, in the way a particularly sharp movie goer might suspect a certain event or turn of phrase was an instance of foreshadowing: we recognize them as making “story-sense.” Thomas Hibbs describes the Eä we are presented with in The Lord of the Rings as a universe in which “individuals can have confidence that there is an order for them to discern and tasks for them to fulfill, since a providential world is one in which human history has the structure of a plot, an intelligible dramatic unity” (178).

Tolkien even wrote an in-universe debate about the very topic of the nature of Eru’s involvement (or lack thereof) in the events of Arda where he makes the nature of Eä as Drama explicit and diegetic. Called “Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth” and appearing in Morgoth’s Ring (the tenth volume of The History of Middle-earth series) this debate between the elven king Finrod and the wise woman Andreth centers around what Tolkien calls “Oinekarmë Eruo (The One’s perpetual production), which might be rendered by ‘God’s management of the Drama’” (329). While nothing in The Lord of the Rings approaches the explicit and diegetic nature of this debate, the early exchange between Gandalf and Frodo mentioned above—Gandalf’s voicing of his suspicion that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring—reproduces to some degree the same opposition of viewpoints. Gandalf ends with the statement “and that may be an encouraging thought,” to which Frodo replies “it is not” (56). Frodo shares Andreth’s cynicism and does not find in the idea the comfort that Gandalf does.[10]

Providence (for Tolkien) is not Miracle

As we have already discussed, some of Eru’s involvements in the Story—the awakening of Elves and Men and the Downfall of Numenor—appear to describe a mode of involvement that is singular, direct, and unilateral and which we might define as “miracle.” In his essay “Conflict and Convergence on Fundamental Matters in C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien,” Ralph Wood notes the attributes of Tolkien’s idea of miracles:

But for Tolkien as not for Lewis, miracles are unique acts of God; they are not special demonstrations of what God always does through the operations of nature. There is, in fact, an implicit Thomism at work in Tolkien’s understanding of miracles. As Brian Davies observes, Aquinas “thinks that miracles come about by virtue of the creative activity of God and nothing else. The whole point about them is that nothing subject to God’s providence, i.e. no cause other than God (no secondary cause), is at work in their occurrence” This is not to say that God does violence to the created order, or that he “intervenes” to disrupt its natural processes. On the contrary, St. Thomas insists that God is totally present to every existing thing, so that all events are always the effect of God’s will. Yet miracles are not worked through secondary causes, not even through their divine compression, as Lewis argues: they are brought about by God alone. (325)

This description of miracles as those events which work through no secondary causes is echoed by Purtill in J.R.R. Tolkien: Myth, Morality, and Religion:

By definition miracles are an intervention from outside of ordinary life that cannot be expected, counted on, or prepared for. Unless you take on the impossible task of writing a story from God’s point of view, there is no way in which you can show a miracle as an event following from the characters and circumstances of the story…. (154)

A “miracle” then is not an event that we could say “follows the logic of the plot,” as Tolkien describes the events of the climax of The Lord of the Rings. For Tolkien, miracles are fundamentally unlike the actions of Providence, which holds free choice among rational creatures as sacrosanct and seems to work within Eä almost as an undetectable force of nature. Christin Ivey uses the image of an “underlying current” to describe this force:

With Providence’s active involvement in guiding Frodo’s free will, Tolkien presents Providence not as stoic ‘clock-work God’ but as an underlying current, flowing together the free will choices that determine the earthy derived plan of fate; ultimately leading into compliance with the thematically cohesive divine design. Helen Lasseter concludes: ‘While guiding all events and actions to an ultimate good, Providence never denies creatures their freedom… [Tolkien] shows that the person is integral to a providential world order; yet the person’s inherent limitations, exposed through personal failure and defeat, reveal the constant presence of a higher and greater authority within the world.’ (196)

For Eru to use a miracle rather than the actions of providence it must be necessary to use a miracle rather than the actions of providence. If Gollum was so near to falling, why not let it be that he fell? What does Eru tripping Gollum say that isn’t better said by allowing Gollum’s own glee to destroy the Ring? Gollum’s madness and lust is a better cause dramatically, thematically, and theologically. And if it were as simple as tripping someone into the Fire, why didn’t Eru do so with Sauron just after he made the Ring? There is no reason for it to happen now rather than then. Alternatively, he could have torn the Ring off Frodo’s finger. He could have prevented Sauron’s fall into evil entirely. Or he could have prevented Melkor from singing at the very start, ending evil before it began. But he doesn’t.

The events in the Cracks of Doom constitute a providential eucatastrophe, not a miraculous deus ex machina. Eru does not “enter” the story to intervene at the last moment—Eru has been present all along. This is consonant with what we know of how Eru deals with concentrated incarnate evils in the world. Eru does not often jump in with miracles, and when he does it is never to stop atrocities from happening. The destruction of Numenor, for example, does not kill Sauron and does not prevent all the harm the Numenoreans have already done.[11] Eru leaves the stopping of evil to others (and to evil itself).

Providence is not a “change of plan.” Providence is the plan. It is not Eru working alone. It is not “miracle.” Eru may not have tripped Gollum, but he gave Gollum, Frodo, Sam and every other rational being opportunities to make choices which, in concert, produced a situation that led to the Ring’s destruction.

Rending the Web of Story

There is one last important point. The universe of Tolkien’s Legendarium is a teleological one. Providence is leading towards… something, some meaningful end, though those who have never been outside of it are at an epistemological disadvantage when it comes to puzzling out what that end is. While Tolkien never completely formulated an entire eschatology for his Legendarium, he did note one important feature of what would come “after” Eä: a Second Music in which the Children of Eru (Elves and Men) would join the Ainur in song.

This Music, like the first, is not merely ornamental, or a work in and of and for itself. Like the First Music it is a pattern, a blueprint of things to come, things that will be made Real, and it is a work that humanity will participate in. This hopeful view of eternity—one that is echoed in Tolkien’s allegorical short story “Leaf by Niggle” when the protagonist sees his own creation given material reality after his death—is one that Tolkien appeared (at least at times) to believe was active in the real world. As Tolkien says at the end of On Fairy-stories: “All tales may come true…” (79).

Most importantly, however, is this: this communal art making shared among all the human beings in the world is not something that happens only at The End. The Children of Eru are fundamentally sub-creative beings, art-makers, who are made precisely in order to express the infinite variety of Eru’s infinite Being through their own unique creations. These creations are not limited to what we would traditionally call “art works.” As scriptless actors in the Drama, the very choices of the Children of Eru are their art, their sub-creations, and that makes their very choices infinitely important. In The Flame Imperishable, Jonathan McIntosh thoroughly situates the metaphysical underpinnings of Tolkien’s Secondary World in the metaphysics of Thomas Aquinas, including the notion that all human action represents a kind of shared creative activity with the Creator:

In our acts of sub-creation, God has chosen to create through us, as it were, not in the sense that we are made the intermediate agents or instruments of his creation, but in the sense of our sub-creative activity becoming the locus at which God carries on or continues his own work of creation. (…) Human praxis, as it were, is a kind of human poesis, human doing a form of human making, inasmuch as every human action seeks to bring about an alternative state of affairs, and therefore to realize a “secondary world” or reality that is alternative to the one currently realized. (181)

These choices, all adding up to join together as the threads of fate—and more importantly these choices made in fellowship—reflect the Music as it was meant to be: a pluralistic effort of infinite variety. The pity shown to Gollum, for instance, the salvific force which, while not functioning alone, is given special attention in Tolkien’s commentary, is not just pity, but many acts of pity by many different players: pity in fellowship.

So who was responsible for the Ring’s destruction?

In a very real sense, they all were. Everyone whose choices interlocked in order to produce the circumstances at work at the Cracks of Doom, even Sauron, even the Ring, itself, is responsible, to varying degrees, for the Ring’s destruction. It may not be out of line to include in this group even every rational being who had ever lived up to that point. Because that is how The Music, the blueprint of Providence, is meant to work.

The stories of Tolkien’s Legendarium are conceived as a kind of mythological history of our own world. Tolkien, in fact, introduces himself to us in the prologue to The Lord of the Rings not as author, but as translator of long lost documents recording the events of pre-history. Tolkien wants us to know that we are living in Eä in an Age long after the fall of Sauron and the fading of the Elves, that we are reading a story about a world that is itself a story—and that story happens to be our own. It’s story all the way down. Which means our choices are inviolable, too; Frodo’s agency is also our agency. The web of story is torn asunder, and suddenly we, like hobbits, are forces that shape the universe. It is our choice-making—our art-making!—that expresses the infinite variety of God just as much as Frodo’s does.

If we allow ourselves to step into Tolkien’s Secondary World we may stop for a moment and take him seriously: one day we will sing the Second Music, but even here and even now we are all—already—con-creators with The One.

And that (may be) an encouraging thought.

Notes in Part 5

8. It should be noted that my intention here is not to explore the moral and ethical questions present in this interpretation of divine beings and their moral duty, or lack thereof, to intervene in the world for the sake of Good, including whether or not this is consonant with the operations of a loving creator, or produces a satisfying or comforting theology. Whether such a “way of things” is Good is its own worthy question (and has been debated for millennia). It may, however, also be a question for which there is no truly satisfying answer.

9. Tolkien is paralleling himself with the Other Writer when he says that he did not “arrange” the action. Perhaps he’s being cheeky: the Other Writer didn’t “arrange” the action either: it “follows the logic of the Other Writer’s story.”

10. In their debate Andreth is of the mind that Eru, if he exists, has little to do with his Children, since Men have no encounters with him or with his regents (the Valar) as the Elves claim they do. Finrod, on the other hand, argues not only for his continual presence but for the goodness of his plans and intentions, a perspective which Andreth, a mortal woman “doomed to die” points out is molded by Finrod’s privileged position as an immortal Elf. It is tempting to see Tolkien in this debate providing a fictional outlet for his own lifelong struggle with the reality of evil and death and the question of how this reality can coexist with a benevolent Creator—that is, his struggle with the Problem of Evil. One wonders if Tolkien is both Finrod and Andreth in this instance, just as one wonders if he is both Gandalf and Frodo.

11. Eru imposes to stop the armada not because they were evil, but because allowing Men access to Valinor was a catastrophic failure of their nature and future purpose.

Works Cited is listed in [PART 1]

#Why Eru Didn't Trip Gollum #tolkien #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #Con-creation #tolkien metaphysics #eucatastrophe #athrabeth finrod ah andreth #providence #free will #miracle #Eru #Gollum #Frodo

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sugarfreeballoon · 4 months ago

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Unrequited (Elladan Ending)

(Same warnings and notes apply)

Bursting through the crowd and sending two people crashing into each other, Elladan rushed to you, wrapping you in his arms in a rib cracking hug. You collapsed into him, embracing the warmth and safety emanating from him while sobbing in his arms. He lifted you off the ground, arms still tightly around you, and carried you off, setting you down next to his horse. “Let’s go home,” he said, eyes glistening with tears. You nodded in agreement, and he pulled you back into another hug before helping you onto his horse. Climbing up behind you, he nodded to his brother. “Let’s go.”

The journey home was uneventful, with the group only ever stopping when you needed something. Elladan attended to your every need, only leaving you alone when you needed to use the bathroom. He was constantly holding you in some way: an arm around your waist when on horseback, an arm linked with yours while walking, a hand clutching yours at night. His brother had brought you a change of clothes, and they’d stopped by Lothlorien to give you a chance to wash and rest peacefully for one night. You’d apologized profusely to Lady Galadriel for running away, but all was forgiven in the end. Your heart was beginning to feel that same old ache again, the ache you felt when someone was nice to you. It was as though you felt you didn’t deserve it. But even though you were consumed with guilt, you couldn’t stay away from Elladan. He was a stronghold you could hide away in and feel safe.

When the group finally reached the borders of the valley, you requested to stop. Walking to the edge of the border, you looked at Elladan with concern. “Is he mad?”

“Is who mad?”

“Who do you think?”

He sighed and looked away. “No, he’s not mad. Concerned, most definitely, but not mad.”

“Are you sure you’re telling the truth? What’s wrong?” You touched his arm. “You seem upset.”

He looked down at his feet. “You’ve been thinking about him this whole time, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to say to him and how he’ll react.”

“Did you ever think of me?”

“What?”

“After I left you in Lothlorien, did you think of me?”

You nodded forcefully. “Of course I thought of you. I missed you so much. Painfully so, even.”

He looked up in surprised and touched your arm. “I did not mean to cause you pain.”

Chuckling, you put your arms around him. “It’s not as though you did it on purpose, El.”

“Even so, if thoughts of me were hurting you—”

“Then that’s on me.” You buried your face in his chest. “I’ve never been more grateful to you.”

His strong arms enveloped you. “I have to be honest with you, Y/N. I don’t want to cause you more pain.”

You pulled away and looked at him in surprise. “What is it?”

“The unrequited love you feel for my father...” He released you from his grasp. “I feel it for you.”

“What?” you said, confused. “You feel the love I have for your father?”

“No, no. I feel…no, I love you, Y/N. With all my heart and every fiber of my being, I love you. I never said anything because I knew you loved him and I worried confessing my feelings might put unneeded pressure on you when you were already struggling, especially since I knew your heart belonged to another, but these past weeks we’ve been travelling have made me feel closer to you than ever before. Perhaps I am misreading our interactions and your intentions, but I felt now was the time to say something. If I wait any longer, it might be too late to say anything.”

You blinked back tears. “Oh, Elladan…how long have you felt this way?”

“Four years.”

You gasped. “Four years?”

“Repeating again, are we?” he said, a smile crossing his lips.

You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. “El, you should have told me sooner.”

“No, Y/N, it wouldn’t have been fair. I know you would have felt guilty about not returning my feelings.”

Sighing, you looked over the valley. “Perhaps you’re right. Still, I would have liked to have known. I might have realized and returned them a lot sooner if you had.”

“A lot…sooner?”

You took one of his hands in both of yours. “You haven’t misread my attentions, El. Ever since we set out for Lothlorien, I have felt a great love for you. A grateful love that turned into a longing love when you left me. A love that left me shaken to my core in devastation, thinking I might not see you again. It was you that befriended me first when I arrived in Imladris. It was you that gave me hope that your father could help me. You were my best friend and greatest ally. Although I found myself pining after your father, there was always love for you in my heart. I left because I knew he would never love me and I knew not having him love me would be painful, but I failed to see that being apart from you would destroy me. And it did. I thought I was dreaming when your brother called out to me in that village. But when I saw you, I knew for certain that it was real. Not just the fact that you had come, but the fact that I loved you more deeply than anyone else, including your father. I couldn’t bear to be apart from you after that. It’s the only reason why I came back. If you hadn’t been there to show me you still gave an ounce of care about me, I might not have had the courage to. And when I saw that you were equally as desperate to be close to me, I knew you felt something for me too. I wasn’t sure how strong it was, but I decided I wouldn’t be letting you go this time.” You pulled the back of his hand up to your lips and kissed it gently. “I love you, Elladan, with every fiber of my being and I never want to be apart from you ever again.”

He swallowed, blinking away the tears in his eyes. “Y/N…”

You shook your head. “Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll really start crying.”

“I won’t cry then,” he said, softly, pulling you close and tipping your chin upward. You closed your eyes and felt his lips embrace yours in a kiss that brought your confidence back to life. Every fear, every doubt, every thought of hatred for yourself faded into the background as he kissed you passionately. His arms held you against his chest as your wrapped around his back and clutched the fabric of his shirt. You had no idea why you’d been so consumed with thoughts of his father when he had been standing right behind you, holding you up, this whole time. You knew you’d felt gratitude and love for Elrond, but standing here and kissing Elladan made you reconsider every emotion you’d ever felt. Why had you denied yourself this happiness? For four years, he was thinking of you when all you could think about was yourself. But there was no time to beat yourself up now. You had to make up for four years’ worth of lost time. Elladan needed to feel the intensity of the love you had for him, and you were going to show it to him. The kiss you were sharing was passionate, needy, and full of relief at finally being able to be together. One hand had slipped up your back to tangle in your hair, and you were holding onto him for dear life as your lips moved against one another in harmony.

“Um, excuse me,” Elrohir said, coughing, and you and Elladan practically flew apart. The twins refused to make eye contact with each other and Elrohir cleared his throat. “I think we should be going now. We need to make it back before nightfall.”

“O-of course,” Elladan stuttered, turning to you with a slight blush on his cheeks.

You laughed. “The sooner we get back, the sooner we can resume.”

Elrohir sighed. “Yes, think of it that way, if you must.”

Elladan scooped you up into his arms. “Let’s go, Y/N. I still have much to prove.”

“You have nothing to prove, El.”

He kissed your lips sweetly. “I love you, Y/N. I can’t wait to show you how much I love you every day.”

You buried your face in his shoulder. “I love you more, Elladan.”

#silm fic #elladan x reader #silmarillion fanfiction #silm fluff #silm oneshot

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marietheran · 8 months ago

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LotR reread - book 2, chapter 8 - Farewell to Lórien

Oh, you can see Tolkien fought in a war and now makes sure his heroes need not eat army crackers...

Galadriel's song...

The geography of Aman seems a bit weirdly squeezed together if I was to analyze it though? "by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree"... strand is shore, Ilmarin is the palace of Manwë and Varda, the golden Tree can only be one thing, and then it is said to shine "beside the walls of elven Tirion"... And Galadriel knows how all of it fits together. Hmm, I suppose it's best ignored. But the poem is beautiful.

"But if of ships I now should sing, what ship should come to me/ What shop would ever bear me back across so wide a Sea."

"Hythe" - new word. Apparently means "small port, landing place"

"Drink, Lord of the Galadhrim! And let not your heart be sad, though night must follow noon, and already our evening draweth nigh."

Aragorn/Arwen Allusions Counter at 3.875

All this talk of ending and fading is :(

This is really interesting, but, while it is properly the domain of elves, it seems that dwarves also care for the stars -- as much as Men, I suppose. Or Gimli at least.

"Then I say to you, Gimli son of Gloin, that your hands shall flow with gold and yet over you gold shall have no dominion."

"Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únòtimë ve rámar aldaron!" is the part that I can both recite from memory and understand. Or at least, I understand almost every single word on itself, not bothering about grammar, and know how they fit together.

Quenya is pretty...

"Varda is the name of that Lady whom the elves in these lands of exile name Elbereth" <- here, and only here, upon my first reread of LotR after the Silm did I finally realise that Elbereth = Varda.

"I do not wish to drown my grief in cold water."

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If you look at the timeline in the appendices, the irony of it all is that Gandalf (now, Gandalf the White) arrives in Lothlorien exactly one day after the Fellowship leaves...

#lotr reread #original post #the professor's mythopoeia #lotr

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the-journey-was-the-point · 5 months ago

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An Argument

A short, emotional fic told from Callonduin's POV!

Summary: After spending a lifetime apart, Callonduin overhears what his twin thinks of him.

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For most of his life, Callonduin played the part of the ideal ellon, excelling in his studies and combat training, never giving his father cause for worry. He figured his father had enough on his hands taking care of Calarphain, Callonduin’s sickly twin brother. Calarphain was brought to Lothlorien as a child for healing, and their father stayed with him there ever since.

Many years went by before Callonduin's behavior began to shift, gradually becoming more unruly, more delinquent, culminating with him dropping his duties in Rivendell without a word. He proceeded to travel around Middle Earth, partying in taverns and instigating brawls for sport.

For months he lied to his father, wrote him letters of an uneventful life at home, but during their “working vacation” out east, his father revealed that he knew of Callonduin’s deception during their entire trip. “They tell me of your alarming behavior,” his father had said, referring to the letter he received from Elrond’s attendant, Lindir, “that you behave recklessly when fighting orcs, that you disappear for several days at a time, then come home smelling of blood and ale.”

Before leaving their convoy, Callonduin apologized to his father and promised to return to a normal life in Rivendell.

Of course, what he actually did was loiter in a small town along the Anduin. It was pure luck that a band of dwarves would pass through and inform him that Fíli was requesting his presence in Erebor.

“Please, behave.” Fíli had all but pleaded him, as the crown prince was to officially present his intended traveling companions to his uncle, King Thorin.

Did Callonduin behave? Well enough, he cleans up nicely when he wants to. Did that mean his deception went unnoticed? No, and now not only was King Thorin unimpressed, but Calarphain was mad at him too.

Callonduin wandered around Erebor afterwards and upon hearing his brother’s voice, followed the sound to a room, a study perhaps, where Calarphain was speaking with someone the older twin couldn’t see.

“When I learned I was going to meet my brother, I wondered what type of person he was. Father made him sound remarkable. Turns out he’s… out of control, and boorish, and irreverent, and so cruel to our father! He’s not at all what I was expecting.“

Callonduin was a seasoned warrior, one of Rivendell’s best, and the youngest apart from Lord Elrond’s sons to have been part of his personal orc-hunting party. He has been on the receiving end of an orc’s unforgiving warhammer, and yet, these words from his brother hurt so much harder in a way Callonduin couldn’t explain.

“Sorry, were you expecting Glorfindel?” Callonduin snapped, making himself known.

Calarphain spun around and froze at the sight of his brother leaning against the doorway. The older twin's lips were curled up slightly in what would have been considered mirth if not for the tumultuous look in his eyes. Unused to dealing with hostility, Calarphain could only stammer.

“Were you expecting I’d be a paragon of Elvish virtue?” Callonduin continued, “If you knew me at all, you’d know that what I am is at the bottom of the barrel! But how can you? You never wrote.”

“Father wrote to you,” Calarphain replied at last, voice raised, “and you always made it sound like you were fine! And I did write to you.”

“Yes! Short notes attached to father’s letters!” Now Callonduin’s voice was raised as well. “ ‘Hope you’re doing well,’ ‘Happy Midsummer’, and nothing more. You never even visited.”

“I was sick, Callonduin, you know this! I was sick, then I had my apprenticeship with Lady Galadriel–”

“Hundreds of years,” Callonduin interjected, “and you couldn’t make time for one summer with me?”

Silence fell between the two, and Callonduin allowed it. Callonduin wouldn’t deny his flaws, he was very aware of how far he had fallen, but he detested how his brother held him up to an imaginary ideal, when Calarphain never took the time to know him.

He took a shaky breath to calm the well of emotions that threatened to drown him. “Maybe I am out of control, and everything else you said... but if you’re disappointed because of what you expected me to be, that's your fault Calarphain, not mine.”

Callonduin stormed out, not bothering to wait for his brother's response.

#the hobbit #the hobbit oc's #oc stuff #callonduin (oc)#calarphain (oc)#my fics #edited from the original!

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morally-grey-girlbosses · 1 year ago

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Propaganda under the cut.

Rachel

Ok in tower of god everyone's trying to climb the eponymous tower because if you reach the top you can have your greatest desires fulfilled whatever okay Rachel is trying to climb the tower and for whatever reason she was the only person to visit our socially isolated protagonist who lived in a fucking cave and was essentially his only friend (this is before they're climbing the tower). in fact the whole reason the protagonist is climbing is because he wants to be with her and you know what she does? she fucking. fakes an injury and then pushes the protagonist to his death while he's caring for her injury, which he only survives because of his plot armor. she KEEPS BACKSTABBING all her new allies just for a chance to get to the top and yet our protagonist keeps finding it in his heart to forgive her. she's awful and horrible and yet somehow. she is still climbing that thang and you've got to give her credit for that

Galadriel

ok so by the time LotR rolls around she’s a fancy queen in a whole special girl kingdom but she STARTED as the youngest daughter of the youngest son of a king, with five million cousins and three older siblings who were all older and probably better-respected than her; and then some shit happens and the king dies and they all decide to leave Elf Heaven in order to chase down the guy who killed their grandfather, and she is SPECIFICALLY noted as wanting to leave because she wants to rule a kingdom of her own, and she can’t do that in Elf Heaven where there aren’t any openings to rule bc everyone already has a king. so she goes with most of her extended family to try and make their way across the ocean and back to the continent their grandparents travelled to Elf Heaven from, where they hope to avenge the king and also rule some kingdoms (although it’s worth noting!! that other people already live there, and they all KNOW this), and then some more stuff happens and some of her cousins on the “leaving” side start a fight that escalates into a pitched battle where they kill! her mother’s father’s people! (bc she’s also a princess on her mom’s side, lol) and in some versions tolkien decided that she actually fought AGAINST her cousins and killed some people in defense of her mom’s side (which is a BIG DEAL for an elf to Choose to do). after this, her dad is like “actually i Will Not be leaving with you people, murder is Not Okay and i’m going back home to ask the gods for forgiveness and if you had any sense you would too” but galadriel decides SHE’S STILL GOING. anyways then some more stuff happens and her entire extended family on her dad’s side dies, but not before killing some more of her extended family on her mom’s side and also (indirectly) her favorite brother; amongst all this she spends some time as a handmaiden in her great-uncle’s court but eventually decides that that’s not enough for her, so she packs up and heads further east to found her own kingdom, which incidentally will be populated not by her own close family’s subjects, but by some people who at one point were subjects of her great-uncle and may or may not have decided to leave his rule. and then once all the first age drama has died down, even though there is very much a new, undisputed high king of their people on her father’s side who’s still ruling (and doing a damn good job of it), she just Doesn’t swear fealty to him or join his court. instead she founds her own realm. some more intrigue happens and sauron stuff too and she’s forced out of power so she leaves; there’s a war, the king of the place she’s been staying in dies, and then a while later there’s Another big Problem and his son (the new king) just dips, so she just Executively Decides that she’s gonna be in charge of his people now, and THAT’S how she became the Lady of Lothlorien. and then she hangs out being Queen (functionally, if not nominally) there for like two thousand years while occasionally going other places to use her vast magical powers to fight sauron but mostly she just protects her fancy special kingdom. and then LotR happens and she does some mind magic on the entire Fellowship which is also at least a LITTLE creepy, and she admits that she’s Very into the idea of having the power of the One Ring, but doesn’t take it bc she’s got Wisdom now (and also imo bc she’s HAD her chance to rule a kingdom for a very long time so she doesn’t crave power now in the same way she did when she was young). and tolkien writes about her like she’s Perfect but genuinely she’s kinda fucked up and power-hungry! good for her!

#poll #tournament poll #round 1 #rachel tower of god #tower of god #galadriel #lord of the rings #lotr

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wordsvoyage · 7 months ago

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III. The Seal Of Faith

Lothlorien

After the events of lord Elrond's council, you stayed there for a few days. You missed Rivendell, Arwen, and lord Elrond. You felt the need of a friend who was going through a similar situation, and this was Arwen. She was so kind and also worried about what was happening with Aragorn. But even with them by your side, you were restless and anxious. You were so restless that you even went out with Elrond and his soldiers on patrol where you killed a pack of orcs. This helped but not for long.

The time came for you to leave and return to Lothlorien as your mother had summoned you. Your way back was a bit more dangerous as you encountered orcs twice. The second time was just outside of the forest of Lothlorien. This attack was more deadly than the first one as one of your guards was killed. Thankfully, you managed to slay almost all of them before entering the woods where you knew you would be safe. The rest of the orcs followed in the woods but were soon killed by the patrolling group led by your older brother, Haldir. He was a real soldier, the marchwarden of Lothlorien. He gave up his right to the throne because his true calling was to be a soldier and to fight, to protect. Once all the orcs were killed and you were safe, you headed to the castle deep into the woods. You felt tense, scared, you knew you could not do anything else for now. You were going home and you knew you had to calm down as you did not want to burden your parents even more. You did not know what the future held but you had the feeling you were not going to be just a princess anymore and that you would have to fight for everyone and everything you loved. With those thoughts in your head, you headed inside the castle, something you had done plenty of times, just this time it felt much more different. You were different and you were finally ready to welcome your faith.

***

In Lothlorien you were back to your old life of a princess of the elves being prepared to be the future queen. Galadriel was teaching you how to control the powers you possessed and inherited from the Noldors, your ancestors. Since your mother used to be a soldier, she also wanted you to train with the guards and with Haldir. You also decided to go more often on patrol with them around the woods. Your mother and father were not happy with this but you were firm - you were not fragile and you would not be just a princess looking pretty in a hall somewhere.

During all this time, your mind always wondered back to Legolas and the Fellowship. You wondered where they were, how they were, were they safe. Either your mother was unaware of their path or she just did not wanted to bother you even more. Galadriel and your father Celeborn could very well see how scared and worried you were. Galadriel knew she could do nothing about this, you were in love and you were scared for the one you loved. She understood that very well. But not only they noticed that, Haldir did as well. With the time passing you started dreaming bad dreams about death, so bad that you stopped going out of your room. You just had no strength in you. You stayed there for a few days, only going out on your balcony to think and cry a couple of times. One day, as you were sitting on a bench on your balcony, you heard a knock. It was one of your maidens and after a bow, she said:

- My lady Arise, excuse me for bothering you. Your brother, lord Haldir, is outside and is asking if he can enter your room.

- It's okay, he may come in. Thank you - you entered your room and smiled to the girl. She went outside and in a couple of seconds, your brother Haldir entered. He closed the door and smiled to you.

- Arise, I hope you are alright. I came to ask you if you would want to go out on a patrol. It's been days since you have gone out of your room. Mother is concerned about you. I am concerned about you, plus I miss our time spent in the woods.

- I am alright. - now that he said he wanted to go on a patrol with you, you thought how much you missed the outside world, the woods, your brother. You knew staying in your room would not help. You got up from your bed and faced Haldir. - I will join you on this shift. Just give me a few minutes to prepare.

- Of course, my lady Arise - he said and went out of your room.

In a few minutes, you already were dressed in your uniform. You strapped on your sword, a couple of daggers, and a bow with arrows. The last thing you put on, was a hood and you went out to join the rest of the party.

***

Thankfully, that day there were no troubles on your patrol. You did not encounter any orcs or unkown folk trying to get to the woods. It was almost nightfall, as you were preparing to head back to the castle, Haldir sensed a danger. You all sensed, or rather heared it. Loud noises coming from the border of the woodland realm. You headed towards that direction with weapons drawn and ready. You had your hood, your sword drawn and ready. The party found the group of strangers and surrounded them. As you got closer, you saw they were no strangers - they were the Fellowship. The Fellowship had their own weapons drawn, including Legolas. Haldir appeared in front of them and started talking as you got closer:

- The dwarf breaths so loud, we could've shot him in the dark.

Seeing him, Aragorn spoke out:

- Haldir of Lothlorien, we come here for help. We need your protection - as he was talking, you appeared out of the group of elves, removing your hood. As Aragorn and Legolas saw you they both bowed with their heads, followed by the rest. Legolas looked at you. - Lady Arise.

You could see them and how tired they were so you knew you had to allow them entrance. Haldir was hesitant because of the Ring. So you and him took the group and moved them elsewhere as it was getting dark. You had a meeting with Haldir, Legolas and Aragorn to discuss this matter. You were relieved to see Legolas and the rest safe and sound. But you noticed that Gandalf was not with them. You knew your mother Galadriel would like to see and talk with them so you talked Haldir down and you brought the Fellowship inside the castle.

As you were going up to the throne hall, other elves had started to gather for the evening. When you entered the throne hall, the Fellowship gathered at the end of the stairs and as for Haldir and you, you were on the side, waiting for the queen and king. They appeared as a vision and started going down towards the group. You noticed the group was so taken by your mother's beauty and grace, as if they saw a vision. Your father Celeborn started talking:

- The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy, is now gone. Eight that are here, yet nine left Rivendell. Tell me where is Gandalf for I much desire to speak with him? I can no longer see him from afar.

But you knew that Gandalf did not pass the borders, so did your mother. You knew that he has fallen. Your heart was heavy.

- He is fallen to shadow - said Galadriel.

- He was taken by a creature of shadow and flame, - started Legolas as he was looking at your mother - a balrog of Morgoth.

After this meeting, your mother allowed the party to stay in for the night at the castle. To get some rest, some supplies. You showed them where they would be staying and then went to your room. You could hear the lament filled with sorrow the elves were singing, it was in Gandalf's honor. You were sitting in your room but you could not sleep, your heart was too heavy and your mind filled with thoughts. So you decided to go and ask for a meeting with Galadriel. She agreed to talk to you in private in her chambers. You knew this was going to hurt both of you but it had to be done.

- Mother, I wish to speak with you for an urgent matter. One that cannot wait as I feel it is of great importance.

- Yes, my child, I believe the matters are urgent and the time has come for this. Please, let us begin.

- Mother, I feel I am ready for this. The time has come for me to become a true soldier and fight for what is good. I can sense I will play a bigger role on this quest to destroy the ring from now on. I had a dream...or a vision maybe. Of me going on a battle alongside the Fellowship. A big battle for a great cause - you began talking. - I wish to join the Fellowship and leave Lothlorien tomorrow. I am ready for this.

- My child...I will not forbid you to do this, even though I am so afraid for you, and my heart is full of worry. But you are right, this is part of your destiny, part of all our destinies - Galadriel started with a soft voice filled with pain. - I know you have to go with them. You may go, and know that the elven queen Galadriel will protect you on your journey. Whatever I can do, I will. Go now, my dear, rest and gather your strength. And remember, you are more powerful than you could ever imagine. Good night, Arise, my lovely and brightest star.

- Good night, mother - you said. You could feel how hurt and worried she became but you both knew this was your faith, and you cannot escape it. You exited the room and headed to yours. You could hear the sad lament the elves were singing. It was worthy of someone like Gandalf. As you were walking to your room, you saw Legolas wondering around. You decided to go talk with him as he had to know that you were joining them. Also, you wanted to see him and talk to him so badly. He saw you as you were going down the stairs and followed you to your favorite part of the castle, a little lake lit by lanterns and filled with flowers. It was a nice, crispy night, and you felt yourself shivering. This was partially because you were nervous to be with him, afraid of what he was going to say. You both stayed there for a while, not speaking. He was looking at you all the time, you were dressed in a light silver night gown, your hair falling free on your back and shoulders. You looked so much like your mother at that moment. You began:

- I hope the others will get the needed rest for the remainder of the journey - turning to him, he smiled at you and came closer. - My heart is heavy with sorrow so sleep avoids me tonight. I guess the same goes for you.

- Yes, Gandalf was a great friend, wise and strong. He is worthy of the songs the elves are singing -said Legolas. - Arise...oh how pretty you are, my lady. But I can read the sadness and worry in your eyes. I wish you could tell me what else is bothering you tonight.

- Oh, Legolas - you began. - I am worried for this journey, for the faith of everyone. For you and me - you said and you turned towards him. You knew you had to do it, so you composed yourself and continued. - Speaking of which, I must tell you that it has been decided I shall come and join you on this mission. You cannot change this, no one can I'm afraid. It is something I have to do.

You turned to face him, he looked devastated and scared. But he did not speak of this, did not protest. Not that any of you could do anything different, you had to do it. He was standing close to you, with a tense face and look. He came closer to you, a gentle smile on his face. Now he was standing just centimeters from you which made you tense. Then spoke out:

- I wish things were different but this is what we have to do. We must destroy the ring or the world will fall in darkness - he was speaking softly. - We should not fear this, you are a great soldier who holds great power within. I will be there and will do everything to protect you on this journey. - He took your hand. You could see he was nervous, there was something in his gaze that you could swear looked like love. He made you look at him while he continued speaking. - You are my light and my heart, Arise. Just as the golden leaves dance in the breeze, so does my heart rejoice when I am in your presence. Arise, you are my light in the darkest of nights, guiding me through the shadows with your gentle grace. I should have told you this long time ago instead I hurt you, and for it I'm truly sorry. I grew so fond of you and the time away without you, made me realize it. I do not wish to spend any more time without you. I want to spend eternity in your warm and caring embrace.

As you were listening to him, something deep inside you, woke up. Feelings of love and hope. But you were still afraid. Now he was even closer and he wrapped his hands around you. Your heart was about to jump out of your chest, you were shivering lightly. He was looking at you with his deep blue eyes as he leaned and gently pressed his lips to yours kissing you so sweet yet so sensually. You lost yourself in the moment and gave in to his embrace. He was the one to break the kiss but then you just stood there, in each other's embrace with soft smiles your faces. You felt safe and calm for the first time in years. Even though you knew this was an incredibly vulnerable moment for you, you realized nothing mattered, just you and him. You stood there for a while then you said goodbye and each of you went to sleep.

***

On the other morning, your mother sent an elven maid to wake you as she wanted to see you before you and the Fellowship left. It was pretty early in the morning and the world around you was still waking up. In those silent hours, you put on your uniform and strapped your weapons. Then headed to see Galadriel.

You entered the hall and saw your parents and your brother Haldir. They wanted to say goodbye to you. Your mother was holding a sword, the sword she used to fight with when she was younger. It was a gorgeous blade made by the Noldors thousands of years ago. It had seen and won many battles. First you said goodbye to your brother and your father. They each blessed you for your journey and then exited the hall as your mother wanted to speak with in private. Once you were left with her, you noticed she was nervous and didn't know how to start. It was so unusual to see her like that. Then she turned to you and smiled:

- My dear child. Here we are at the beginning of your journey, and the end of mine - she came closer to you and gently with motherly love, touched your cheek. - But it is okay, it is just life. We shall not be sad as there will be many happy moments. My dear, so beautiful, so gentle, yet so strong and powerful. I just see it deep inside you - Galadriel smiled at you. - But let us continue as we do not have much time. I wanted to gift each member of the Fellowship with something that will help you on this journey but I felt my gift for you had to be a special one and given in private.

She smiled to you and showed the sword which was very old, made by the old Noldors. You knew this sword, and every ornament on it. She continued while looking at the sword:

- You know this sword, my dear Arise. This blade is special, fit for a queen and a powerful elf. When you decided that you are ready to be queen, and especially when you decided to go on this adventure, I knew what I would give you - Galadriel looked at you and handed you the sword. - To you, my dear, I am giving you Galaris. May it bring you many victories and glory.

You took the sword and thanked your mother. You were speechless and were trying to find words for this. Giving you this sword was a huge honor. You did not know what to say, so you just hugged your mother. For some reason, tears started rolling down your face but all your mother did was to kiss you on the forehead. And then everything was better, calmer, you felt as if she gave you some of her powers and strength. You distanced yourself from her embrace and bowed to her, showing respect. Taking this sword marked the beginning of your journey and sealed your faith. You left the hall and headed outside to join the rest of the Fellowship. Your journey has finally started.

#legolas #fanfic #legolas fanfiction #lord of the rings #the hobbit #wattpad

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rey-jake-therapist · 1 month ago

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I really am amazed by the number of people, on Reddit but even on Tumblr too, who genuinely seem to believe that Galadriel being wounded by Morgoth's crown will be inconsequential regarding her character development. They heard her say "the door is shut" to Sauron, saw her jump off a cliff hence resist him, so they believe, "that's it !" Galadriel's temptation for darkness is over for good, and she will probably not have much to do in the following 3 seasons except giving a heir to the returning Celeborn (whose arc she's bound to serve and not the other way round, apparently), build Lothlorien, protect it with Nenya and make an appearance once in a while so we can see her become the Lady of Light, the ethereal Galadriel Frodo met in Fellowship of the Ring, while the men do all the hard job of defeating Sauron.

I'm genuinely confused by these takes. Do these people hate the idea of Saurondriel so much that they want to see it die even at the detriment of Galadriel's character development and story? Or didn't they just even watch LOTR, saw Frodo get stabbed by a Nazgul and carry this wound all his life, to the point he was never able to lead a normal life again because of it ? Didn't they see Frodo physically react to the presence of the Nazgul who had wounded him, because the creature created a sort of bond between them? Didn't they see the scene where Frodo almost puts on the One Ring because the Nazgul uses the connection they have to push him into giving him the Ring?

Because if they saw all these scenes, and yet believe that for Galadriel, her wound will just heal with the help of Nenya and Elvish medicine and will have no consequences whatsoever on her future interactions with Sauron, I must say I don't get it. Sauron didn't use a random dark weapon to wound her, he used an object who belonged to Morgoth, the symbol of his power, no less. Sauron himself was stabbed to "death" with this crown, meaning there was still his blood on this very powerful artifact when he used it against Galadriel.

Why do they think that they introduced the second season with Adar's betray and "murder" of Sauron with Morgoth's Crown? Do they think it's only a coincidence that they started the season with this flashback, and finished it with Sauron using the same Crown to wound Galadriel ? Do they remember we saw him replace Mithril with his blood for the forging of the Nine ? He did that to have a total control over the men who would wear these rings. When he stabbed Galadriel, he pretty much expected to obtain the same result. It didn't happen thanks to Nenya and Galadriel's willpower, essentially.

Yes, Galadriel will partly heal thanks to Nenya, but the wound will always be there nevertheless. She was wearing Nenya when Sauron stabbed her and yet, Sauron managed to wound her badly and to create a bond with her, getting the ability to mentally speak to her. We never saw him do that with anyone, before. There's no way that in next season, Galadriel "just heals thanks to Nenya and move on with her life", never being prone to temptation ever again.

There's also no way that our Dork Lord just lets her go, now that he created this bond with her. If anything, it should make his obsession for her stronger than ever ! And I find a bit naive to think that Galadriel will immediately find the way to block him, "thanks to Nenya". There would be no point at all to this entire situation if it was only to give Galadriel a nasty wound, that sometimes hurts when Sauron gets closer 🤷🏼‍♀️

#galadriel #sauron #haladriel #saurondriel #the rings of power #Trop #Nenya #morgoth's crown

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 2 years ago

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Easier Than Death- Haldir x OC

Haldir x Mirabella

Description: Mirabella had been forced to the sidelines by Haldir for the Battle of Helm’s Deep. Now, it’s a race against the clock to heal her husband after he’s gravely wounded.

Word Count: 1.8k

She remembered how frustrated she was. Mirabella was absolutely livid when her husband forbade her from going to Helm’s Deep with the other healers. It wasn’t fair in her opinion. She had some of the most special powers in Middle Earth and she was stuck on the sidelines, forced to stay home.

Lothlorien had gotten word about a battle that was supposed to go down in Helm’s Deep, and Galadriel had been quick to offer up their soldiers to help the future King of Gondor. In an instant Mirabella began preparing the healers to go with them, but was pulled to the side by Haldir as she and Galadriel led them towards the gates.

“Lady Mirabella, may I have a quick word with you?” He questioned formally upon approaching them. She glanced at the woman beside her, awaiting her nod of approval, before following her husband to a nearby empty corridor. Haldir’s shoulders relaxed a bit now that they weren’t in front of anyone else, but there was still a bit of tension lurking in his otherwise stoic expression.

“What is it?” She asked with a patient smile, watching as he had an internal debate with himself. He looked conflicted, she realized, and she attempted to ease his nerves by taking his hand.

“What troubles you, meleth nin (my love)?” She questioned worriedly. Haldir sighed softly, offering her hand a small squeeze before letting it go.

“You cannot come with us to Helm’s Deep,” he finally said, deciding to just get it over with. In an instant Mirabella’s smile dropped and she stared at him in disbelief.

“Wait, what?”

“The risk is too great, and your powers are too valuable for even a sliver of a possibility that you may get hurt,” he explained, attempting to grab her hand again, but she was quick to pull it away.

“But Lady Galadriel-”

“Agrees with me,” he finished before she could continue. “But she figured that I, as the Marchwarden as well as your husband, should be the one to tell you.”

“That’s not fair Haldir,” she retorted, trying to keep her voice even. “I’m well aware that the risk of going to Helm’s Deep is just as much of a risk if you go. It’s one that I’m more than willing to take, just like you.”

“I’m sorry Mirabella,” Haldir stated with finality. “But it’s already been decided. You are to stay here and await our return so that you may put your powers to good use in a safe environment.” Upon noticing her distasteful expression, he sighed softly and took her hand in his, only gripping it tighter when she attempted to pull it away again. Mirabella refused to look at him until he lifted his free hand to hold her chin between his index finger and thumb, moving it so their eyes met.

“You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it best for everyone,” he added softly. “I only want what’s best for the people of Lothlorien.” That’s when the girl fully pulled away from him.

“What’s best for Lothlorien, or what’s best for you?” She questioned bitterly, not allowing him to respond before she walked away, most likely back to the medical wing, and left Haldir watching after her regretfully.

She hadn’t even said goodbye to him, still too angry at him for forcing her to be brushed off to the side. Now it was something she regretted deeply. The moment she saw Lady Galadriel walking towards her, she had a sinking feeling in her gut.

“The battle in Helm’s Deep was a success. King Theoden, Aragorn and Haldir led their troops valiantly to victory.” Her words made the girl sigh in relief, but then she noticed the woman’s sympathetic expression.

“But,” she prompted the woman, growing anxious once more.

“But.” she repeated patiently. “Haldir, along with quite a few Lothlorien soldiers, have been gravely injured,” she informed Mirabella, carefully gauging the younger elf’s reaction. “We need you to ride to Helm’s Deep and do whatever you can to help.” Maribella’s whole world stopped when the woman finished her thought. Her mouth felt like it had been filled with cotton, but she nodded nevertheless.

“Yes, My Lady,” she responded softly, receiving an approving nod from the Lady.

“Oren and Rinala will escort you there,” she explained, gesturing the boys forward. “Ride swiftly and true, I know you can do this.” The conversation ended soon after and before Mirabella knew it, she was riding on her horse Ryfan alongside the guards assigned to her. No one felt much like talking during the ride, and they didn’t say anything until they finally reached Helm’s Deep, where everyone was either physically, mentally or emotionally (or all three) from the battle. Mirabella forced herself not to look at the dead bodies of Orcs and soldiers alike as they reached King Theoden, who directed them to the medical wing. Once there, she ran into Aragorn.

“Aragorn,” she called softly, sounding relieved as she was pulled into a hug by the man. “Where is he?” She questioned softly as they pulled away. Aragorn offered her a small, sympathetic smile before leading her further into the wing. Many soldiers were there, much more than she would have liked. Nevertheless she followed the man obediently until they ended up at a bed a little further away from the others. Mirabella’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes landed on her fiance, pale and obviously in pain despite the fact that he laid stock still.

“You may want to start working your magic, Mirabella,” Aragorn stated softly. “I don’t know how much longer he’ll be stable without…” he trailed off, but they both knew what he was about to say. Without dying.

“Very well, leave us please,” she instructed softly. Aragorn nodded, bowed then walked away most likely to tend to the others. Mirabella closed the curtain that separated Haldir from the other patients then immediately got to work. She used every spell she could think of to heal him, her time reversal the most though. A lot of time had passed though as it took nearly three days to ride from Lothlorien to Helm’s Deep, so she needed a lot of strength.

It took her nearly two hours before Haldir’s wounds began healing themselves. Mirabella didn’t stop yet though, she wanted to make sure the job was done properly. Another hour later, and that’s exactly what happened. Haldir’s wounds had finally healed, leaving nothing but faint scars on his abdomen and back that likely wouldn’t go away. Mirabella knew he wouldn’t care though, they were just a testament to their victory in the battle of Helm’s Deep.

She fell back in her chair with a deep sigh. Exhaustion and soreness seeped through her muscles from how much power she had to use. More than likely she would have to wait a bit before she could move onto other patients. Of course she shouldn't have put herself first and taken care of Haldir though. She could already hear him scolding her for it, saying that there were other soldiers in need of her assistance. It was worth it to her though, as long as her husband would be okay and return home safely.

Her eyes slowly closed as her head leaned back in exhaustion, but she was quick to snap back up when she heard movement beside her. Her gaze landed on Haldir, who shifted a bit then turned his head, his eyes slowly fluttering open. His brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at his wife.

“This must be Valinor,” he whispered, voice barely audible if Mirabella didn’t have elvish hearing. A small laugh left her lips as tears welled up in her eyes.

“No, meleth nin (my love),” she responded in the same tone. “You are still here with us in Helm’s Deep.”

“In Helm’s Deep,” he repeated quietly before looking at her once more and sitting up rather abruptly, making Mirabella help him lean against the wall behind his bed when he groaned in pain.

“You must be careful Haldir,” she scolded softly. “Your wounds may be healed but you will still be sore.”

“Mirabella, what are you doing here?” He questioned firmly, ignoring her reprimand. “I thought I specifically told you not to come, Lady Galadriel-”

“Told me to come help the wounded,” she finished before him, feeling quite proud that she got him back from a few days prior. “More soldiers were hurt, more than we anticipated at least. So, Lady Galadriel sent me here with your brothers to aid in whatever way we can.”

“You could have been hurt,” Haldir responded, still in a reprimanding tone. “There could have been an ambush waiting and I wouldn’t know what would have happened to you.”

“You wouldn’t have known if I didn’t come at all,” the girl shot back desperately. “You would have been dead if I didn’t get here when I did. Don’t you understand that? You would have died if I didn’t come. Then what? I would be forced to live out the rest of my days without you. I don’t care what you say, I would rather be here and take a million scoldings from you than not being here and finding out you died without me here to help you. It’s easier to hear you scold me than not hear your voice at all anymore.”

Mirabella hadn’t even realized that she had begun crying until several tears slipped down her cheeks. She sniffled then looked away to wipe them away, but paused when Haldir’s hand came up to cup her cheek. His thumb swept over the apple of her cheek, carefully wiping away her tears.

“Will you please look at me, elen nîn (my star)?” His tone was much softer this time around, and that’s what willed her to do as he asked. He offered her a small smile, then gingerly leaned forward. Mirabella followed his lead until their foreheads met.

“I did not know you felt that way, Mira,” he whispered. “I did not think about it like that. I’m sorry.”

“All is forgiven, meleth nin (my love,” she answered immediately, earning a small grin from her husband.

“Gerog i chûn nin (you hold my heart),” he whispered.

“And you hold mine,” she whispered back with a toothy grin before he pulled away, holding his arms out for her.

“Come, lay with me,” he instructed. “I know you must be tired.” The girl considered his words, then realized that he was right. Now that the excitement from his waking up had faded, her exhaustion still remained. With a shrug, she stood then crawled onto his cot and into his arms. They immediately got comfortable and Mirabella’s eyes began to grow heavy.

“You need rest as well, Haldir,” she muttered, receiving a small hum in return.

“I will when you do,” he responded simply. If Mirabella’s eyes had been open, she would have rolled them. She was too tired to argue however, and she found herself falling into a deep sleep before she even realized it, Haldir not too far behind her.

#lord of the rings #LOTR #lotr imagine #haldir fanfiction #haldir imagine #haldir x oc

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troubled-guest · 2 years ago

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How Galadriel, Arwen and Éowyn reflect the Virgin Mary

https://voyagecomics.com/2019/05/01/how-galadriel-arwen-and-eowyn-reflect-the-virgin-mary/#:~:text=Galadriel%20is%20the%20%E2%80%9CLady%20of,a%20metaphor%20for%20divine%20grace.

Unlike his friend, contemporary and fellow Inkling C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien did not approve of nor employ direct allegory. This means that, for example, none of his Christ figures are perfect representations of Christ. This is most clearly represented in Frodo, who ultimately falls to the power of the Ring (despite resisting far longer than any Ring Bearer before him) and fails in his mission to destroy it. Additionally, in The Lord of the Rings, there is not just one character who is analogous to a figure in salvation history.

In addition to Frodo, the characters of Aragorn and Gandalf are also Christ-figures. Aragorn, living a hidden life in exile before ascending to the throne of his ancestors, is obviously Christ as King. Gandalf, warning of the growing power of the Enemy, is Christ as Prophet. And Frodo, who bears a burden of evil that is not his up a mountain so that it may be destroyed, is Christ as Priest. The sacrificial nature of the Passion connects it to the priestly aspect of Christ. Thus, Frodo suffers greatly in his body. Besides being stabbed by the Witch-King and stung by the Shelob, he is wounded in his hand and there bears the mark of his suffering for the rest of his life.

Tolkien employs this threefold typology in regards to figures representing Our Lady, the Blessed Mother, as well. Three characters personify different aspects of Our Lady: Galadriel, Arwen and Éowyn.

Galadriel

Galadriel is the “Lady of Light” who represents Mary as Queen. In addition to being one of the oldest elves, she is also the most powerful and the most beautiful. The beauty of the Elves in Tolkien’s legendarium can easily be seen as a metaphor for divine grace.

The Marian nature of Galadriel is most clearly seen in The Fellowship of the Ring, when the bruised and battered Fellowship reach Lothlorien. When the first arrive, Gimli goes so far as to refer to Galadriel as an “elf witch” and says that his companions should beware her spell. Here he sounds very much like a Protestant who does not understand the importance of and role played by Our Lady in Catholicism, and equates it with idolatry.

Thus, it is quite poignant that Gimli, when he finally comes face to face with the beauty and grace of Galadriel, becomes utterly devoted to her. He asks her for the gift of only a strand of her golden hair, and she grants him three. Like Galadriel, Our Lady always gives us more than we ask from the abundance of her own grace.

Her hair is but one of the many gifts she gives to each member of the Fellowship. As Our Lady is the Mediatrix of All Graces, these gifts can be seen as metaphors for graces. Like Our Lady, Galadriel gives each member of the Fellowship a different gift, based on his needs. It is from Galadriel that the Fellowship receive the lembas bread to sustain them on the journey, which is of course a metaphor for Eucharist. The Body and Blood of Christ that we receive in Holy Communion, He Himself received from Our Lady, His Mother. Most notably, however, is the phial that Galadriel gives to Frodo that contains the light of Eärendil. When she gives it to Frodo, Galadirel offers a quasi-blessing: “May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.” This would be an apt description of the grace and intercession of Our Lady, especially because the light is used as a powerful weapon to ward off evil; by Samwise against Shelob, and (in the film adaptation) by Galadriel herself against Sauron at Dol Guldur.

Arwen

Galadriel’s granddaughter Arwen, represents Our Lady as Mother, particularly as a Sorrowful Mother. Arwen marries Aragorn and bears his son. In the films, she is about to leave for the Grey Havens, having been convinced by her father Elrond that staying out of love for Aragorn will led to her great sorrow when he, being mortal, inevitably dies. However, she turns back when she has a vision of her own, in which she sees Aragorn with their son.

Thus, Arwen says “yes” to being a mother, knowing that despite the joy of having a son, she will be filled with sorrow when he and his father die. Our Lady, while perhaps not fully aware of everything that would occur to her Son, still continued to give her fiat throughout her life. It is worth noting that when Our Lord tells His Mother at Cana that His “hour” had not yet come, He is reminding her that revealing Himself with a public miracle will start the chain of events that will lead to His Passion and Death. Having heard the prophecy of Simeon when she and St. Joseph presented Our Lord in the Temple, Our Lady would have known that great sorrow was in store for her, yet she nevertheless told the servers, “Do whatever He tells you.” Like Our Lady, Arwen’s motherhood leads to great sorrow.

Éowyn

In addition to Arwen, Aragorn is also loved by Éowyn, shield maiden of Rohan. Being the niece of King Theoden, she is a princess who ably leads her people when her brother Eomer goes to war alongside their uncle. Yet, she bemoans the fact that being a woman, she will never see the glory on the battlefield that the men of Rohan live (and in many cases, die) for.

For this reason, when the Rohirrim ride to defend Minas Tirith, Éowyn disguises herself as a warrior and goes with them. Ironically, it is her being a woman that makes her the most pivotal player in the battle. When the Witch-King of Angmar mortally wounds Theoden, Éowyn rushes to defend him from being devoured by the serpentine fell beast upon which the Witch-King rides.

When the Witch-King says “Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!” Éowyn triumphantly responds, “No living man am I.” and proceeds to decapitate the fell beast and, with some assistance from Merry, destroy the Witch-King as well. Here, Éowyn represents Our Lady as the Woman of the Apocalypse, prophesied in the Protoevangelium, who defeats the Serpent by crushing his head and who defends those who are fighting the Enemy against their ancient foe.

#the lord of the rings #catholic #the blessed virgin mary #galadriel #arwen #eowyn

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degloved · 8 months ago

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2 + 4 katniss hehe

KATNISS! KATNISS! KATNISS! OUGHHHHH

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

the way nobody fucking likes her. the way she's abrasive and short and difficult to get through to. the way she needs a prettyboy mouthpiece because not even her bow-and-arrow prowess could win her favor in the eyes of the capitol otherwise. girl you inspire so much disdain i am obsessed with you

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

i'd put her in lotr, and specifically into lothlorien. i am actually enamored with this idea that our beloved lady galadriel would take one look at her and decide she wants that one, yes that one who's never smiled once nor really treated her with the same fervor other middle-earthians do. yes that one who lives deep in the golden wood and sleeps among thick roots of mallorn trees and picks elanor and niphredil flowers to fashion crowns for her sister. sorry i need to think about this now for hours

[ask game]

#ask #ask game

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emmanuellececchi · 11 months ago

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I love you too!

Eomer was mostly ignorant. And maybe even manipulated to believe all terrible stories about The Lady of the Golden Wood.

And, let's be honest. If Galadriel herself hadn't vouch for our guys, I'm not sure any of the company, minus Aragorn and Legolas, would have gone out of Lothlorien.

But this is a "calm" analysis of the situation. Something Gimli is not exactly the best at. And certainly not Eomer at this particular moment, for all the reasons mentioned.

So let's blame SARUMAN!

So, uh, this plot bunny... that sounds like an awesome and hilarious one -shot!

inspired by this post

#best mutuals ever

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getlostsquidward · 2 years ago

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i'm also missing your galadriel x reader fics, so here's a prompt:

Galadriel x Elf!Reader (married)

Thranduil and Reader are childhood friends and decided to visit Reader and Galadriel's home and starts reminiscing the times they were both still young, and Galadriel gets a bit jealous....or something, feel free to change things, if ever youre gonna write it!!!

I'm so sorry im such a sucker for your Jealous!Galadriel fics ahhh, also sorry if its a bit long.

Gold Rush

Galadriel x Elf!Reader; Platonic!Thranduil x Reader

A/N: Don't worry, detailed requests are chef's kiss. This isn't my best work though, I'm sorry 🥲

“Well if it isn’t the Elvenking himself,” you beamed as you saw the King of the Wood Elves, your dear childhood friend, Thranduil waiting for you at the entrance to the Halls.

“Ah, Y/N. Surely it hasn’t been long since I last saw you? You look younger than ever, my dear,” he remarked. He put a hand on your shoulder as you give him a curtsy. “You know you need not do that, do you?”

You both laughed as you stood straight again. “I could say the same way to you. By the way, I’m sure you know of my wife, Galadriel.”

You looked behind you, seeing that she and a handful of Lorien elves that went along with you had finally caught up. Due to your excitement of being back to Mirkwood, your home, after centuries of living in Lothlorien with Galadriel, your pace may have been quicker than the rest of your company.

Your hand found its way to your wife’s back as she stood beside you, the great leaders of the two Elven kingdoms giving each other their greetings.

Thranduil offered his hand as you made your way to the Elvenking’s Halls which you graciously accepted. You didn’t see Galadriel raise a brow as you, once again, went ahead.

Galadriel couldn’t help but feel as if she was an outsider as your and Thranduil’s voice echoes in the room with both of you reminiscing the past. She knows the long history between the two of you, how close you are and how one means to the other. She couldn’t help the twinge in her chest as she feels as though you’d forgotten about her.

But your hand comes to rest on her knees, turning to her as you give her a smile before going back to your conversation with him. Somehow, it soothed her.

As the King's little feast concluded, he personally showed you to the room where you’ll be staying.

“I bid my good night to the both of you. Lady Galadriel,” Thranduil nodded to her. He turns to you. “Y/N, I am beyond happy to have you back here, even for a short time. Welcome home.”

With that, he left the two of you to your own devices.

“So much has happened since I’ve last been here,” you sighed dreamily, not quite done with all the trip down memory lane, that is sure to continue the next day.

“It’s interesting to hear King Thranduil’s side of the story. I find it amusing how the two of you have completely different versions of what transpired,” Galadriel commented, faux enthusiasm laced in her voice. Though the sentiment was sincere, she feels tired, and frankly, the sparkle in your eyes as you talk about your time together with the Elvenking isn’t helping what the Lady of Lorien feels at the moment.

The two of you get between the sheets. The long day came to catch up on you as you yawned. “Oh, I feel like our visit here isn’t enough to keep up on all the things I’ve missed.”

You turned to face your wife; her eyes trained on the ceiling. “Thank you for coming with me, meleth nîn. I appreciate you coming all the way here with me.”

“It’s nothing, my love. We should sleep; we still have a long day tomorrow.”

You dismissed Galadriel’s languid reply, thinking she must be exhausted from the trip. You pressed a chaste kiss on her lips before you closed your eyes.

The cold and empty side of your bed woke Galadriel up.

“I remember you braiding my hair in this very spot,” Thranduil nudged you as you sat on the stairs located in the throne room.

You smiled as the memories replayed in your mind. “Yes, and you would always accuse me of pulling your hair… which was true.”

“Yet despite that, I never let anyone touch my hair but you.”

“So, can I have the honor of touching the King’s precious hair? For old time’s sake.”

Thranduil chuckled heartily. “I would love that, Y/N.”

That’s how Galadriel found you, Thranduil’s back on you as your fingers delicately glide through his hair. She decided not to ruin the moment and turned away, so she didn’t see the two of you looking at her before she disappeared from your sights.

“I envy you, Y/N.”

Stunned by your friend’s remark, you halted your movements. “What do you mean?”

“You get to spend your time with the love of your life, and maybe one day return to Valinor. Together.”

You could hear the melancholy and grief in his voice as he remembers his wife. You feel for him, as he decided to suffer alone – he never talked about her as if she never existed. But you understood why.

“She wouldn’t want you to wallow in sorrow, Thranduil,” you continued to finish the braid on his hair. “There we go.”

As you stood up, he surprised you with a firm embrace. You knew he was not one to show his vulnerability, and you feel truly honored to see this part of the King.

“How are you, my love? I haven’t seen you all day,” you found Galadriel wandering in the kingdom’s halls.

“Forgive me, I wanted to visit the Mirkwood on my own.”

You stared at your wife, squinting your eyes at her as you feel she was not completely telling the truth.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

Galadriel’s head turned to you; her eyes slightly widened. Sometimes she forgets how you could tell that something is not right with one look.

She tilts her head down. “I feel… something when I saw how happy you are when you reminisce your memories together with the King. It’s not necessarily bad. Like a sudden and sharp pain in my chest. And your eyes are already bright but now they doubled their spark, it’s enough to blind anyone.”

You slowly closed the distance, your fingers coming to gently tip Galadriel’s chin up. You couldn’t help but smile at the downcast look on her face. No one is as adorable as her.

“I think jealous is the word for that, meleth nîn,” you answered. Your hands cupped her cheeks as you made sure she won’t look at anything but you.

“I apologize if my actions made you feel bad. You have no reason to be jealous, my love. I promised you all of eternity. Trust me when I say that.”

–

tags: @ilovehotactresses @madamevirgo @setsuna1415 @thenastoaster @r4nd0mgir1 @just-another-ant1 @nocteangelus15 @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @thenazwife

#galadriel #galadriel x reader #galadriel x you #galadriel imagine #galadriel lotr #lotr imagines #lotr fanfic #cate blanchett x reader

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