#the lady of ithilien au

[annabawritersdream]

Main OC: Elenna "Enna" Tindómiel

Fancasts:

Billie Gadsdon (child)

Mackenzie Foy (teenager)

Synnøve Karlsen (adult)

Character profile:

DOB: October 9, FoA 1

DOD: May 24, FoA 43 (aged 41)

Daughter of Elanel (deceased) and Elegil (deceased). Adopted daughter of Faramir and Éowyn and sister to Elboron, Faelivrin and Eradan. Step-daughter of Finduilas and biological sister to Elerion.

Human of Dúnadan descent.

Appears in:

The Lady of Ithilien

Main character in the planned First Age fic Nyerénya... Namárië!

Mentioned in The Handmaiden and the Prince , Tales of a Brother and Estel i Hína [sequel to LOI]

A simplified version of Enna may also appear in The Prince of Ireland (yet another placeholder title).

Enna's theme:

The lyrics are so Enna-coded. Below I've linked the instrumental version as well.

MOODBOARDS

Enna's subconscious

Fancast: Anastasia Tsilimpiou

She's Enna's conscience, her thoughts, her fears, her guilt. She can be either a faceless character or she can also show her face if she wishes. She often appears alongside Enna's younger version (Billie Gadsdon)

Vaguely inspired by @lucifers-legions' own OC, Finduilas (she's the daughter of Boromir and Enna's first cousin in her AU, Garthad Estel)

I purposely kept the lines "You have killed your own son" and "you have become a murderer in the edit because that's what Enna hears in her head all the time.

She'll be present in the other AUs where Enna is featured because...some things never change.

[annabawritersdreamsideblog]

She would also be perfect for Mairéad (not to mention that her name means "pearl" and she's wearing pearls. Finding faceclaims can be extremely hard)

@awkward-sultana do you know, by any chance, the name of the actress—I couldn't find it on the Magnificent Century cast list—and where I can find more pics or gifs of her? Thank you ☺️

[annabawritersdreamsideblog]

She'd also be perfect for Mairéad 😨 I'm literally collecting possible faceclaims at this point. She's literally adorable.

Costumes + The Spanish Princess

Catherine of Aragon’s creme dress in Season 02, Episode 01.

[janeeyreofmanderley]

Yet another Boromir lives AU

"Ouch! Son of a B.......ranch" Boromir growled, earning a critical yet approving nod of Rosi as he rubbed his head, having bumped it at the ceiling beam for ... well let's just say way too many times. More carefully now and almost bend double he made his way to follow the little Hobbits to the garden where they wanted his help hanging lanterns in the tree.

Finallly a job he could do! He had been in the Shire for almost two months now and while he loved it and found it a welcome change from the demands war torn Gondor still put on him he felt hopelessly out of place. And not only because of his size.

No, he felt out of place the same way Frodo did.

Often the two of them could be found talking in the evening. Only once they had mentioned the ring. They didn't need to talk about it further. Each of them knew what the other felt. The guilt, the shame of failure, and the fear lingering in both their minds of what they might have become, had they gained or kept the ring. These thoughts were always there, always a weight on their minds, and knowing that the other understood the burden was enough. So mostly they sat quietly, enjoying the others company or talk about some comfortably mundane topic.

Today, however, was a day of celebration and Boromir found he was almost as giddy as the little Hobbits, that were now tugging on his trousers, pulling him now here, now there.

Today not only Legolas and Gimli but also Faramir and Eowyn would join them! Faramir had some Steward business in the North to do and Aragorn had given him leave to visit the Shire while travelling. Boromir had not seen his brother in close to 6 months and was eagerly looking forward to showing him and his sister in law around!

They had just hanged the final lantern and Sam had just placed some loaves of bread fresh from the oven when Merry and Pippin came running. "They are half an hour away, come on guys, let's meet them half way! Boromir glanced at Rosi and Sam but the y both just smiled and nodded, as he scooped up three little Hobbits and started running!

It was a boisterous and joyful reuninion! Plenty of hugs, and the little Hobbits got to ride on the big Rohirric voces that the Lady of Ithilien and her husband had arrived on, The feast was one of those only Hobbits can prepare, and it was very late when Boromir finally showed Eowyn and Faramir where the guest rooms where, that held human sized beds. He managed to avoid the first half dozen beams before they got him again, and swearign profusely he noticed that neither his brother nor sister in law had yet complained though he had heard some suspicious bumping noises. As he turned around he noticed why.

"You two brought.....helmets????? "

Eowyn grinned "Faramir's idea, and it seemed a good one judging by your complaints in the letters! And honestly, I don't regret taking them along! "

Faramir smirked. "But worry not brother, we're not cruel" and he handed Boromir a helmet too.

Boromir blinked, then roared with laughter "And that's why, you are the poltician of us little brother! Always one step ahead of me!"

[sotwk]

Hi!

OC Matchmaker with my latest OC.

Her name is Faelivrin—everybody calls her Fae—and she's the third child and second daughter of Faramir (his second biological child). Her older siblings are Elboron and Elenna "Enna" (my main OC in my current WIP "The Lady of Ithilien"). As Éowyn died giving birth to Elboron, Faelivrin is the daughter of Finduilas of Lamedon (my OC, youngest daughter of Angbor the Fearless). Theirs is an arranged marriage Faramir accepts because of *things that happen* and for Finduilas is basically a gift from the Valar since she's pushing 30 and still unmarried (it is my headcanon that Gondorians marry VERY young and all of her older sisters are already married with children while she's still a maid at 28/29).

Facts about Faelivrin "Fae":

• She absolutely adores her older sister Enna. The feeling is mutual and Enna, despite her many issues and things she has to deal with, tries her best to be a good sister. She and her mother try to raise her as a proper lady and Enna will be an extremely hands-on sister as far etiquette and protocol are concerned. Though they won't see much of one another because of *things that happen* (if you want spoilers, you're very welcome to text me privately, but I don't want to spoil the story for those who are interested and may have not read the chapters that I've already posted), they'll remain very close throughout their lives. Fae also worships Elboron who's of course very protective of her and jokingly disapproves of all her suitors.

• She's Faramir's little baby and he worships the ground she walks on and their bond gets stronger as time goes by. As Enna falls out with basically almost her entire family, Fae becomes his only comfort. She's his baby, his happy place and his sunshine. She loves it when he reads to her and she'll become one of few reasons he still keeps going after some of his grandchildren, his son-in-law (Eönwë, Enna's husband. Yes, the Herald of Manwë. There's a Middle-earth Maiarin/Noldorin invasion in the Fourth Age basically) and *possibly* some of his grandchildren by Enna die (courtesy of a Maia with a fascination for smithing and jewelry).

• She loves singing (Enna taught her) and one of her favorite songs to hum is the lullaby Enna used to sing to her. She's also very good at drawing and sewing. Also, similarly to her beloved older sister, she's a historian and would read every book ever written by anyone. She's a decent dancer too.

• She's tall with dark hair and blue/gray eyes (not much else to add about that. She probably has a birthmark somewhere)

• She wears a pearl necklace with the initials of her siblings. She loves pearls.

That's her teenage/early adult version (she looks particularly young. Actress: Isla Merrick-Lawless)

I'm not including an adult version because, although I have a vague idea of how she might look like, I'm still unsure. I was thinking of Jennie Jacques (Princess/Queen Judith in the show "Vikings" but I'm not 100% convinced yet. I'll keep her as an option and I'm still on the lookout for someone else. It should be someone who wears a lot of pearls 🤣)

That's all for now! Thank you!

Oooh! It's tricky to find a match for a young Fourth Age character, since most canon characters even named or mentioned past the War of the Ring have sparse details written about them (but you know all this, since you write mostly for the Fourth Age!). Only my Éomer fic is set post RotK, but as it happens I do have an "obscure canon" that I would like to propose for a match!

The SotWK Matchmaking Machine pairs Faelivrin with:

HALETH, Son of Háma!

In the SotWK AU, Haleth (movie character) not only survives the Battle of Helm's Deep, but he also becomes the squire of Éomer King himself! His career as a Rider only continues to rise from there, as he earns himself plenty of honor on the battlefield. Taking after his father, Haleth is brave and kind, and fiercely loyal to Rohan.

It would take quite a bit of charm for someone not from Rohan to win this Rohan loyalist's heart, but Fae has beauty and grace, so who knows? I think the bigger issue would be whether her family would allow her to love a "lowly" rough-around-the-edges cowboy from Rohan--even if he does become one of Éomer king's most trusted and formidable soldiers.

(Note: This picture of Haleth is of Callum Gittens, the very same actor who played him in the Two Towers movie! He grew up WELL didn't he??)

Thank you for trusting me to match up your OC! :)

This OC Matchmaking game is part of SotWK's Summer Campfire Sleepover 2024. (Requests accepted only on July 11-15, 2024.)

[searchingforserendipity25]

AU-gust fic prompt:

Locked in a room + There was only one bed, in combination with

"I'll take care of it, don't worry!"

"How long has it been since you've slept?"

Thank you @ymfingsteadilyon! <3

Prompt from this list of AUs, my ask box is always open!

-

There were not many formal inns left to Minas Tirith after the battle at its gates, and the coming of the Rohirrim. Most operated informally, and some families, moved by need and by sympathy, opened the spaces of their vacated houses, the empty rooms of sons made swiftly useful in the grim certainty of their never-return.

"Do not expect food to go with the board. I can find you a place, but the window is boarded, and there is but one bed," the matron said briskly.

Maglor's mouth tightened, as did the hand with which he carried their light satchel, empty of even the last of their bread.

Daeron had grown used to his quick speech, and made a point to speak more quickly still. They had walked the long way from the Bay of Belfalas, making swift time with little rest, and Daeron wished dearly for a lightless place to rest his aching head.

He bowed, in a fashion older than the wrecked city of Minas Tirith, or the first ancient fortress to ever bear that name. "That is well, and better than well. We are most grateful for your hospitality."

"Repair my old loom and mend the hinges as you promised, and be gone by noon of the third day," Mother Morwen said, and sent them off.

The lady of the house looked at them not quite trustingly as they climbed the steps of the crooked staircase, not turning eyes eyes away. She was keen, as some Gondorians were, to sense a working of power when in its presence; though Daeron thought she would not have welcomed them at all, if she found anything to fear or disdain in their bearing.

A light enchantment concealed the strangeness of their appearance among Men. It could not hide the marks of battle on them - Daeron's still healing scratch, stark and ugly on his temple, the slow,  stiff way Maglor moved his knee. They had sought to appear to have the look of straggling soldiers, delayed from the host returning from the Gates of Mordor, and the guise was easy to chant and easy to hold, being very close to the truth.

The room itself was a narrow, slanting garret: a narrow, slanting window lit the caulked walls, cast changeful blue light upon the floating dust in the air.

Daeron rubbed at his cheek, avoiding the wound to his face, and thought wearily of rising once more, and filling the empty ewer, and washing his face as it needed to be washed.

In the end, they made the way northwards and westwards for the coronation. 

It had been a long debate. Maglor, self-wise with long reflection by the waters, avoided yielding lightly on any appeal to heart or loyalty or despair; and Daeron disliked the cities of Men greatly, for their sounds and smell, the cacophony of voices and all the mingled impression of many thousand mortal, splendid, forceful lives bound together in the Music.

Their songs had done grave damage to Sauron in the lands to the East of Ithilien for many years. A slow and gruelling and silent campaign, of enchanted groves and illusions raised up to trick passing bands of Gorthaur’s emissaries, to thwart chariots. To give time, and cover, and safety to the fleeing refugees that were at times forced to flee from their homes, for defying Sauron’s influence and rule and enslaving dominion. 

And now, to hesitate to undertake this journey, after so many others through torment and danger!

All things considered, it would have been rather remiss of them not to make the journey. For one thing, the songs to mark the end of one Age and the start of another must perforce be as excellent as they could be; and neither of them could offer a better wedding gift than their music.

They had laid out arguments for days before deciding, each taking one position one day, and another the next; convinced and unconvinced each other and themselves. Because both of them wished to go, and neither wished to admit it, they had gone on in silence.

It filled the small room, the quiet, followed their shadows against the wall. Already Maglor turned the room's single narrow stool. Before Daeron had sat himself down on the edge of the mattress, he had already turned the stool to face the door, and laid down his lute and long knife ready on his lap where he sat.

"There is no need to worry," he said at last, sensing Daeron's hesitation. "I will keep watch."

“Assuredly not,” Daeron said at once. “And let you keep us both awake with your nerves?"

“I am not beset by anything, much less the nerves,” Maglor said, very dignified, as if he had not spent all the resting hours of their few pauses on the way pacing by the fire, turning a flute between his fingers ceaselessly, eyes distant, set upon a distant past, and a near future. 

Daeron had not generally kept watch at all, for many years; he slept where he would in the wild, and heard the murmurs of the land’s movement as he slept. Danger did not touch him but lightly, for centuries.

That had been before Sauron grew in power, and sent his servants after him, seeking to claim him and use him. Daeron had not slept many nights since without Maglor keeping wary vigil - the palm of his cursed hand raised up, a threat and warning to the world that something foul was awake and listening.

 They had joined their journeys together, they two travelers, both very aware of the danger they courted in evading capture and the danger they might be if captured.

It had been a difficult choice to make, and a difficult life to lead; but it had been easy, very easy, in the end, to let the closeness of a hundred nights under the stars and days spent in quiet turn to shared song, and to a shared life. 

These were not his safe wandering places of years long lost. And yet - and yet, it was the end of an Age. Another one was starting. They had felt it, rising as the sun over cold mist in the days after Sauron’s defeat; a new Age, with very little of ancient lore and ancient power in it. 

“There is no danger,” Daeron said more softly, and knew it was true as he spoke. “How long has it been since last thou hast slept? This is the king’s city, and this the king’s peace. I find it very unlikely we should be beset by wraiths and assassins and robbers tonight, in this place, with how long we have spent guarding the king’s lands already. For one thing, it would lack any poetic beauty at all.” 

“Some poetic justice, perhaps,” said Maglor, who was always a little sore about his own guilt. But the stained line of mouth did ease, a little; and he set aside blade and instrument, and sat beside him him instead.

Daeron sighed. The feelings of the body beside him, familiar and ever-warm, eased the strain on his muscles. He could feel Maglor settling close, slowly, in a rare easing of tension.

There was peace, then, in the small room facing one of the seven broken city walls.

It was a strange notion, and a strange estrangement. Even now, scarred and weary to the bone, Daeron did not think of himself as a warrior. His king was dead, his lady, his teacher, his city; his part in the Music diminished, turned to small, unknown deeds, feats remembered by none, except in short-lived legends, and the memory of his companion.

He was but a wanderer, and not much given to wandering among the company of mortals at that. He had avoided war for many years, and fought in the shadows only. Had avoided the speech of speaking creatures altogether, and spoken to birds only, and then only to Maglor, and to what few people they met. He had not sought glory; he had not sought joy, though he had chosen it, when it grew into a thing that could be had.

Maglor sighed from deep in his chest, with a weariness Daeron felt as his own. His hand, when it held Daeron's, felt as heavy and graceful and terrible as the first time Daeron had taken it, and the closeness just as sweet when his eyes creased for him.

"How long hast it been since thou hast slept? Aye, very well. Let us have some rest, and put aside poetry for a time."

They slept wrapped close together, that night; and in the morning they washed themselves well, and went into the wrecked galleries where there were already markets of fruit and bread operating once more, and sellers offered salted fish from Dol Amroth in honour of the day's celebration; and the grey dawn opened over the splintered and shattered colonnades of the market square.

In the evening, there was the wedding of Elessar, the King returned; and of Arwen, called Undómiel, as fair and noble as Lúthien who danced in the meadows and glades of Menegroth. 

There was a wedding to be had; and the singing, all agreed, was surpassingly beautiful.

[greypetrel]

Hi! 34-"You're covered in blood, need to tell me something?" for Aisling (or any character that you think may fit best)? ✨

Hello! Long time waiting, uh? Sorry, got lost with other things and… Well, I had some doubts on how to decline this prompt. And then… Well, a certain AU happened and bam.

Let’s go back to Middle Earth, shall we? Fluffwings is a very very good girl and there's an extra dose of sugar.

Tis the prompt list.

Dream a Little Dream of Me. (🎶)

"You're covered in blood, need to tell me something?"

The Ithilien wasn’t dangerous, per se. Or well, it wasn’t if you were the Dark Lady and all the orcs of Mordor knew you and respected you well enough. Being a Maiar with a tid bit of magical talent helped for all the rest, even with just one arm left.

As much as Dorian and Cassandra insisted that she shouldn’t stroll around on her own, she wasn’t afraid of much of anything she could have met there. She knew the place well to find her way back, and was more than capable of defending herself, she got the hang, by now, of casting spells and fighting with one arm. Her prosthetics was crafted exactly to help her casting, as a staff would have.

No matter, then, if she was late to their usual meeting exactly because Dorian and Cassandra had some right in being worried about her going around on her own. They didn’t need to know, since nothing happened. She should bathe before going back, tho, she mused rubbing her hands on her skirt. Not that the gesture did much of anything, since her clothes too were dirty. Still…

The main issue right now was that she was running late.

They usually met an hour after sunrise in a specific clearing he passed into in his patrol. The same they randomly met three months ago, and she walked with him, pretending she needed to be accompanied and protected as she took some cuttings that hopefully would have caught inside Mordor as well. She technically took all she needed a good month ago, but no one needed to know. What she told everyone was that it was convenient to have an insight in whatever the Gondor garrison was doing and the areas outside the fortress. Incidents and fightings decreased considerably in that last period, as she could glimpse at patrols and redirect her own people elsewhere with the new informations she got in her mornings, far from the Captain’s reach. She had to admit that he was good, too clever for his own good. He didn’t know that his Lieutenant was feeding informations directly to the Enemy, tho.

The truth, and it was something she struggled a little do admit with herself, was that she enjoyed the man’s company in a way she hadn’t in centuries. Ever since she met the Nine, at least. And somewhat more: all of the Nine had known who she was from the start. Lieutenant Rutherford had no idea. He treated her as a normal person, with respect not because she had a title and power, but just because she was her. It was endearing, it was a respite from a crown she bore gladly but had never really wanted. She didn’t need to tell Dorian this, he understood well enough, and always let her go.

And now…

“My Lady!”

A very worried Gondor lieutenant exclaimed, paling considerably at assessing her poor state, hand jumping at the hilt of his sword, under his cape, and striding towards her.

“Where’s the enemy? Please stand beside me. If the worst happens, run north and follow the river, someone will find you. Tell Captain Faramir-”

As she was saying: endearing. She smiled, in spite of herself, in spite of the fact that she should really tell him that she was the last person on Middle Earth he wanted to reveal the hideout of his group to, and that he shouldn’t be so trusting. Instead, she shook her head, standing still where she was.

“No need, ser, thank you. The woods are quiet this morning, no sign of the Enemy.” Except the one in front of him explaining why she was late today. “I was just… delayed.”

He squinted his eyes at her, with suspicion, taking her figure up and down. His hand didn’t leave his weapon, and for a minute Aisling thought he may have finally realized. It would have been plenty of time, after all.

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” She told him, amiable as she could muster.

“Nonsense. Are you hurt?”

“I am not. Why would I?”

He considered her for a minute, raising one eyebrow at her. As if he thought she was not making sense.

“You’re covered in blood, my lady. Do you need to tell me something?”

Ah, yeah, that. She looked down on herself and well, she indeed was, and it wasn’t a nice image she put on herself. She won’t hear the end of it from Vivienne if anyone home knew. Vivienne, luckily, wasn’t there with her: she was the one that disagreed the most with this adventure of her. As she usually did: their relationship had started the rockiest of all, but she came to enjoy having a counterpart to her thoughts greatly. But in this case, she was glad she didn’t have it at hand.

“Ah. Well, I’m sorry for my poor appearance, I… had a too close encounter with a boar.”

Cullen’s eyes opened wide in disbelief, but still he somehow didn’t find anything particularly weird about her words. She carefully omitted that the boar was bigger than a war horse and definitely something that had lured around from way longer than your average wild swine. Nonetheless, even if a lonely girl even if one of elven descent defeating a wild animal that put in danger the most experienced hunters was weird per se, the man just looked at her, hand finally lowering from his sword and looking her up and down, worry clear in his face underneath a vein of admiration.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt? Boars can be dangerous, and… and that’s a lot of blood, my lady.”

“None of it is mine, ser, I swear. It looks worse than it is, I just… Was too close when it fell.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He sighed, absent-mindedly placing a hand on her shoulder. He did seem relieved, but soon enough realized what he did, and was quick in taking back his hand, cheeks flushing red and going as far as taking two steps back, clearing his throat embarrassingly. “Ah! Sorry, I- Ah, I heard of elven agility and valiancy in a fight, but I never imagined- I mean, I’m glad you’re safe.”

That was it. The exact reason she kept coming back here. The bashfulness, the gallantry, the way he had of thinking that touching her shoulder with a gloved hand through a jacked soaked in boar’s blood was something too forward, too brash. And not because she was the dangerous one, but because he thought she would have thought bad of him. She felt young again, fought the urge to grab his wrist and bring his hand back where it was, tell him she didn’t mind, he could touch her, she wasn’t going to break or take offense. But it would have probably been considered offensive, wouldn’t it? She had to learn more about modern human customs, definitely. For now, she just let him do.

“You’re too kind to me, ser. And you have nothing to apologise for. Now if you would excuse me, I would like to suggest a deviation from our usual path…”

“What? It’s not safe, not with boars around… If we stay on the patrol path, someone would reach us if needed.”

“I really need to wash up, and I would feel mortified with your fellow soldiers around… A lonely girl between so many men? I won’t feel at ease…”

“They’re the most honourable men Gondor has to offer, my lady, I swear… The Captain is a noble man, he won’t let anything happen to you.”

An honest man that slaughtered her people on sight, without being provoked first, she would have liked to add.  But, she just smiled at him, shaking her head.

“I know… But I know a hot spring not far away from here. I don’t want to take you away from your patrol, ser, we can separate here and meet again in two days’ time? I am just happy to know you’re safe and you waited for me.”

He seems to consider, looking at her and at the usual path they take, the one that runs against the hilltop and grants a view of the road that leads to Minas Morgul, protected by the trees. The patrol of a trusted warrior, he wouldn’t have it on his own if he wasn’t good. Aisling felt a pang of guilt at the thought: she wasn’t technically lying… Just giving him a partial, carefully chosen version of the truth.  He didn’t deserve it, but she was sure his sympathy would end in knowing who she really was when she wasn’t with him, and why exactly orcs never showed up when he was with her.

“Lead the way, my lady, I couldn’t leave you on your own.”

So galliant and kind. He really deserved better, she mused, as she smiled brightly and turned to step gingerly in another path that opened from the clearing. This one led them against the side of the hill, sloping mildly down amidst pine trees and sycamores, myrtles and junipers bushes. They made a good chat out of it, it had turned out in the last months that they had some things in common and to talk about. They both liked animals, Aisling told him of Pork Chops’ litter, of the seven little puppies that brought her so much joy and that she hoped to introduce him as soon as they’ll be able to sustain a long walk, Cullen told her about the farm he grew up with, in Rohan, of his siblings and the horses they breeded. She carefully chose some details about her life she could share, and he spoke of life in the garrison and of the other scouts he made friends with - it wasn’t spying, she repeated herself, he was just a friend. That he also gave her informations about what path her orcs should avoid when they needed to resupply, was an advantage that benefitted them both. Less fights and less casualties and wounds for everyone, everyone was happier.

The hot spring pooled in a shady corner below a rocky slope, the spring bubbling and steaming, the surroundings filled with mist that smelled a little like sulphur. Not the best of smells, but the water was safe for bathing, if not for drinking, and pleasantly warm.

“Thank you for walking me here, ser, I won’t keep you any longer. Shall I see you in some days? I hope we could spend some more time together…” And she really did.

“Nonsense.” He scoffed, cheeks colouring pink again. “Clean up, my lady, I will guard you.”

“There’s really no need!” She laughed.

“Of course, there is. You’re covered in blood.”

Well she couldn’t object to that, at least. Clever.

“Well, do as you wish. If you sit on that log, we can talk.” She laughed again, seeing him flush three different and progressively deeper shades of red as he noticed that the log she spoke of was separated by the pool just by a very sparse bush, doing a poor job in screening the water. “I am sorry, I am sorry! It was just a bad joke.”

Nonetheless, he stood guard as he told, facing away from the spring but not so far away that they couldn’t talk raising their voices a little. She just left him her prosthetics to keep, and he was very casual about it, not making questions. Explaining that would have been a little difficult, allegedly, without outward lying about it. And she didn’t want to lie to him any more than she already was. Omissions were needed, outward falsities… She never liked them, as much as everyone was so adamant in saying she did. She splashed around and got herself and her clothes cleaned with a couple of small spells.

And yet, when she declared she was done, he offered her his cape -stepping back to the log, one hand pressed firmly on his eyes and the other outstretched to offer her a makeshift towel. She insisted she could dry both herself and her clothes with magic, there really was no need, but managed to convince him only by stepping in front of him, gently lowering his hand from his eyes with hers and showing she was dressed and proper again and very dry, loose hair before her shoulders: without anything to brush it with, she dared not braid it, all but ready to put up her prosthetic before the jacket.

“I am sorry- Ah, I guess I’m not used to magic.” He told her, smiling bashfully as she held his hand, squeezing his fingers minutely in encouragement that it was all right.

“That’s all right. It’s not as bad as everyone portraits it, if one knows how to use it. It saved me from the boar, today.”

“I guess it must be so.”

“You have nothing to fear from me, you know it, don’t you?”

“I trust your word, Lady Aisling.”

Shily, very shily and probing, he closed his fingers on hers, smiling down at her. Trusting. Too trusting, and it let a bitter sensation in the back of Aisling’s throat. But for now, she just concentrated on the good. On how good it was to be trusted and cherished without wanting nothing in return. How good it was a friendship that didn’t ask for nothing, didn’t spark out of some mutual need or alliance. They held hands for a little longer than it was proper for human custom, looking at each other in the eyes. Or at least, judging by how Cullen jerked up again all of a sudden after a while, grumbling and offering his help with her arm. She laughed, in amusement and endearment, and just because she was happy, and let him tie the straps on the empty shirt sleeve, around what was left of her left arm.

Some day, she would need to test if he really believed she truly didn’t mean him no harm, and if he would have looked at her the same way if she was sitting on her throne, surrounded by her inner circle and advisors. For now, tho, she could forget and choose to live just a speckle of her existence, carefully chosen and selected, but not for that any less true than the version of her that bore an iron crown. Just for a little while, she could be what the name she chose meant: a dream. And a happy one.

[tough-girl9]

Hey there! I was randomly scrolling through my YT feed and I found a video I hope you'll like!

https://youtube.com/watch?v=cnc2h83K4ro&feature=share9

I literally gasped and immediately clicked the link. I love to see your fic being hailed as the masterpiece that it is. It has quickly become one of my comfort reads and rest assured I will keeping up with it! I already mentioned how I've fallen in love with Sauron because of it and I don't regret it. I liked him a great deal even before stumbling across your novel—that's right, it is a proper novel to me— but your incredible writing helped me understand him and I've grown attached to him. I haven't started working on my Sauron/Thuringwetil/Wilwarien one-shot yet, but I honestly don't think it will be nearly as entertaining as Gorthauro Estel. Fingers crossed I don't ruin a wonderful character (well, two actually. Wilwarien is adorable). I'll give it a try though.

I'd love if you could check out some of my writing as well (I feel like I need guidance to some extent) and I'd love to hear your thoughts on my writing style. I'm kind of a perfectionist and I really would like to improve. (Also, I want to make sure my writing is up to your standards before I start 'messing' with your content)

My username on AO3 is AnnaB99awritersdream. You don't have to read everything unless you want to, but it's just for you to get a general idea of the stuff I usually write. I certainly have a long way, that's for sure. ☺️

Thank you so much for writing Gorthauro Estel and I hope you update ASAP (worry not, there's no rush—i'm just impatient by nature😂)

Hello there :) I'm so glad Gorthauro Estel has been the gift that keeps on giving for you.

I have had that video shared with me before, but I had forgotten about it. It still amazes me that people want to go that in depth with thinking about my story. When I first started Gorthauro Estel, I literally thought I'd maybe have one or two, maybe three or four readers, with no idea it would get so popular. But I'm very grateful that people are enjoying my interpretation of Sauron and his AU path to redemption so much.

I'm sure your one-shot will be lovely and you'll do great with the characters :D

I have your story "Lady of Ithilien" downloaded to my laptop so that I can read through it and comment. Right now, I'm at the tail end of my library's Summer Reading Program, which is the craziest, busiest time of year for me when I basically do nothing beyond eat, sleep, and work. Next week is the final week, after which I'm taking some time off to recover, and I expect to be able to get to your story then and give it the time and attention it deserves.

I'm also looking forward to getting back to writing once Summer Reading is over and I have a life back once again. My next update will be for my humor adventure story "The Fellowship of the Pen" (which also heavily features Sauron), and then "Gorthauro Estel" will be the next one up on the docket again to get a chapter update.

[annabawritersdreamsideblog]

As this new original work will also be a "Lady of Ithilien" historical AU, Bradley will be Leonardo, Lorenzo's cousin and childhood friend. I kind of like the idea of their families being related (they're all Maiar in the other story and they've all been created by Eru, so it is only fitting that they're related in this AU as well).

I'll have to think of a last name for him and I'll probably flesh out of a bit of his family, but, for the time being, I now give you Bradley James as Leonardo (one more person to my confirmed fancast list)

King Arthur in armor- Merlin

[annabawritersdream]

Feeling major anxiety at the idea of writing my original which is basically a Lady of Ithilien Real World/Renaissance AU. Obviously I'll have to change the names of the characters, but what scares me the most is that I won't be able to do Elenwë justice by thrusting them into a completely different context (and changing their background). They are who they are because of what they've been through and, though I really want to write it someday, I feel like it will be a failure because...it wouldn't be Elenwë anymore (I wish at least the names could stay the same but unfortunately they're copyrighted and...ugh, it makes me mad. Elenwë is a perfect ship name)

Am I being too dramatic? It's my first time writing an AU of my own stuff and...I don't know, I'm confused. And scared even though there's really nothing to be afraid of. Just so you know, you can leave a comment down below. I love and need encouraging comments and you'll make me very happy.

Thank you to all of my mutuals who put up with me every day. I love you so very much 💗

[annabawritersdreamsideblog]

Possible title alternatives to Ties that Bind (it's fairly common apparently)

Unbreakable Ties

Bound to you

Lady of my heart

The Herald and the Lady

The Herald and the Slavegirl

Story of a Slavegirl

(to be updated)

[annajolras]

Eowyn and Faramir 🌿🤍

Companion piece to my arawen modern au🥰

[annabawritersdreamsideblog]

She's one of my favorite characters in Lady of Ithilien so she'll definitely be in my original AU. Her name is yet to be decided.

PELIN KARAHAN as MIHRIMAH SULTAN | MAGNIFICENT CENTURY

[anghraine]

Whenever I go looking for some scrap I remember writing, I a) don’t find it and b) find something I don’t remember writing at all.

This time, a sudden Éomer appears:

"While I am no longer Lord of Gondor," Faramir began directly, "you may be assured that—"

Éomer waved this aside. "I know your lineage, lord. And I know well that Éowyn will receive more honour in Mundburg, should you take her as your wife, than she ever did in all her faithful service to Théoden-King."

"Lady Éowyn slew the king of the Úlairi before the gates of our city," said Faramir. "For that alone she will always be counted among the great in Gondor."

Éomer smiled. It would have been a fine death, as she had once intended, but it was better still to live in renown and glory. 

[zaraquinn]

So This is Love

Faramir - Falling in Love

Word Count: 1,265

Faramir x Fem!Reader (Witch) - LOTR

Requested: by my dumbass

A/N:

Y/N - Your Name

Additional Notes: Inspired by @meganlpie ‘s oneshot “disappearance”

Bc that cinderella au with Faramir (+ the rest of the lotr characters) was too wholesome, I needed to contribute to another one of the same vibe. Also, it’s in the works, but I just might make some oneshots that are my own oc! This was one of them but i obviously changed it from my oc to reader (hence why she is a witch). Lastly, enjoy Gandalf being a matchmaker! Anyway, hope you guys like this!

Song: so this is love - Ilene Woods & Mike Douglas

———

———

Aragorn’s crowning ceremony had ended, and the city on Minas Tirith was once again reunited with their King. Filled with happiness, the entire city celebrated; Aragorn had declared the entire day to celebrate peace, and shall henceforth do nothing but celebrate the victory over darkness and gather in the light. Everyone was happy that day.

As the day grew weary, there was a feast and a ball held for festivities. The Fellowship and a few other important companions all a part of the One Ring’s demise had gathered with Aragorn in the halls of Gondor. The table long and gracious, the food was almost eaten by the four hobbits themselves, but luckily there was going to be more to come, and the new King had kept his promise for the four darling hobbits once the ball started. The halls of Gondor were then filled with wonderful music and celebratory dances. Smiling faces and of course, for the hobbits, food that even made Pippin jump in excitement. Y/N smiled at the very sight. Finally, peace had been restored, it felt nothing like she’s ever felt before.

She watched over from the corner of the party; Aragorn and Arwen dancing together, even Frodo and Sam enjoying the tunes as they danced too. Merry and Pippin feasting on some food at the tables and Legolas and Gimli were on their way with another drinking game, with Eomer and Eowyn on opposing teams helping the elf and dwarf of their team to win.

“I see you are not dancing with the rest of the party,” Gandalf said, all of the sudden, appearing behind her. His white robes glowing ever so lightly, as he settled beside her. She looked up at the Mithrandir with a small smile. “A witch always observes.” “Ah yes. Observing every step she takes.” He smiled back down at the young witch, joining in with humouring herself. Although, Gandalf’s eyes found themselves across the room beyond Y/N, to see a lonely Faramir also observing. “You’re not the only observer beyond these festivities.” She looked up at the Great Wizard with confusion; a brow furrowed and her head titled slightly.

His eyes flicked on behind her, and she turned around, seeing the lonely Prince of Ithilien. A small blush crept on her face as the two made eye contact and she shyly waved. Looking back at Gandalf, she knew exactly what he was doing. “Gandalf!” He knew of the young witch’s crush on the certain Prince, and thought this was a good time to humour Y/N but also entertain himself. “It is not common that a witch falls in love.” She looked at him almost shocked and quickly blushing madly in embarrassment. “How did you know about that?” She glanced down at her shoes but tried to focus on the festivities around them. “Young fools in love never realize how much they are in love. Even Peregrin Took could tell between the two of you.” She nervously swallowed “Between the two?” She looked at Gandalf with hopeful eyes. All he had to do was smile, as he saw Faramir quickly approaching them. Following his glance she turned around, being met with Faramir’s tall figure. Gandalf took the opportunity to walk off, and leave the fools alone.

“My Lady.” “Your Highness.” They gave a bow to each other, only to meet each other’s eyes and grow a smile—the formalities still fresh but ridiculous to both. “Faramir.” The young witch broke the formalities as the two shared a chuckle. “Y/N.” Oh did she love the way her name sounded on his lips. “I see you’re not enjoying the celebration.” She looked at him with a confused look, meeting his ocean eyes. “And what makes you say this?” She quipped as she crossed her arms. “Well, you’re not dancing. Or drinking. Or...eating.” Faramir stretched the last point, his attention going from the drinking game between the Elf and the Dwarf to the two hobbits going through the food at one of the tables. Y/N had also turned her attention to the hobbits at the food table, and a smile grew on her rose lips. Pippin stuffing his face with more pieces of chicken and Merry just about to dig into another roasted lamb. Glancing back at the woman, Faramir continued; holding out his hand and bowing slightly. “Care for a dance, my lady?”

A pink blush spread across the charming woman’s cheeks as she quickly leans her hand into his, looking behind her nervously. She met with Gandalf’s gaze as he smiled and nodded, and that was the green light she needed. Turning back to the handsome prince she glimmered—hand sliding into his as he gently took her soft hands and brought her to the dance floor. The two got into position quickly, smiles meeting each other and seeing familiar faces start to join the pair. Faramir wasn’t always the best dancer, nor was Y/N, so the two had more enjoyment of just being in each other’s company rather than focusing on their fancy routine.

The pair danced and talked, feeling their already strong bond become bigger and closer than ever. The music of the night kept going, and both Faramir and Y/N found themselves retiring from dancing for a while to meet each other in the courtyard of Minas Tirith. The beautiful moon shone down on the white city, and for once in a very long time, the tree still sprouted the white petals in the air. Both had each others’ hand in hand as they walked to the tree. The feeling of Faramir’s hand in hers felt so natural—pure. Like it was meant to be. Like it... was love.

So this is love. Settling just beside the tree, the pair bathed in the white moonlight. Faramir finished retelling a story from his childhood, about him and Boromir, and it successfully made the maiden laugh.

That laugh was music to Faramir’s ears; something that he could listen to forever. It felt right being with Y/N—he knew it in his heart that it was love. So this is love. This is what makes life, divine, the prince thought. “What?” Y/N’s soft voice echoed in the empty courtyard as she caught Faramir staring at her face. “You glow in the moonlight.” He said all dreamily. Y/N smiled, failing to contain the blush rushing to her cheeks and the smile forming on her rose lips. Faramir pulled her closer, gently laying his hands on her waist as he knows now, that she was the key to heaven. Looking back up, she felt the certain prince bring her closer, and soon enough, his lips descended onto hers; those rose-coloured lips soft as a cloud.

Y/N could feel her heart grow wings as Faramir kissed her—the moment their lips touched. She could feel like she could fly high as the eagles, or touch every star in the sky. Departing from the kiss they looked at each other with pure adoration, and Faramir taking her face into his hands ever so gently. Who knew that she was the prize to peace. After all the effort and death that plagued the war, her love, was the prize. “So this is the miracle that I have been dreaming of.” He said, and she mirrored his actions, bringing her hands to cup his cheek. “So this is love, my lady, Y/N.” The Prince of Ithilien said, looking at the witch maiden and seeing his entire future in her brown eyes. “So this is love, my Faramir.”

They shared one final chuckle before taking another kiss underneath that moonlight.

———

MASTERLIST 🌕

LOTR REQUEST POST 🌙

[roqueamadi]

Planning for a LotR Regency AU (Boromir/OFC)

I'm not going to tag this because it's going to make me look completely insane, but I thought @scyllas-revenge and @trenko-heart you guys might be interested... I have spent way too much time on this (ngl it was fun though xD )

The challenge: How to convert the LotR characters into Jane Austen-style regency characters? I've watched the entire Ellie Dashwood YouTube series to try to ensure I correctly understand how titles and lineages work. Here were my problems and the ways I've decided to tackle them as I plan this fic - some of this may change once I actually start writing, but this is my thought process!

Problem 1: In the regency, people (ie peers/gentry) didn't refer to others by their first names. I had to choose between either: ignoring this historical fact and letting my characters use other characters' first names; making their 'known names' into their titles (eg Lord Boromir is the 'Duke of Boromir'); or, assigning them surnames and having characters refer to each other by names unfamiliar to readers.

I decided to go with the last option which is more historically accurate, principally because if I tried the second option, I would still run into trouble with siblings and parent-children relationships (Faramir is the brother of the Duke of Boromir?? No) - therefore, I'll need to accept that it might be hard for readers to follow who is who in this fic, at first. Eg (as explained below) most other characters will call Boromir 'Lord Ithilien', 'the Lord of Ithilien' or 'Coloniel Hurin'. And to be honest, now that I've stared at this for a few hours I'm actually starting to not mind it that much. I also think it feels more 'Jane Austen-y' for characters to have lots of confusing titles :p However, I think I'll at least let my protagonist 'think of people' by their first names in the narrative, which will assist with clarity.

Problem 2: Most of the characters don't have last names.

Problem 1 leads to this. My answer: I made them up. I tried to pick names from their lineage or alternative names that sounded right. For Denethor's line, I picked 'Hurin'; Aragorn's = 'Telcontar'; Elrond's = 'Peredhel'; Theoden's = 'Eorl' and Eomer+Eowyn's = 'Steelsheen'. I also gave Sauron a first name ('Mairon') and picked a random surname for my protag Cin ('Eradan').

Problem 3: It's extremely unlikely a Steward would be ruling in place of a King.

The more likely scenario (as seen in the regency period itself) is that a Prince Regent rules in place of a King because of illness, absence or minority. I decided to go with the latter - so my idea is that Aragorn's parents died when he was not yet of age and so a Prince Regent took over. This would most likely be his closest living relative - so I decided to make Denethor related to him (I've ended up making Denethor Aragorn's first cousin once removed - any closer and Aragorn would share a surname with Boromir and Faramir, which I didn't want).

Problem 4: Leading on from problem 3... I don't want Boromir to be too closely related to my protag Cin (for obvious reasons!)

I was originally going to make her Aragorn's younger sister, but that would make her and Boromir second cousins. That's a bit too close! So I made her Aragorn's first cousin on his mother's side - so Cin and Boromir are both cousins to Aragorn but have no blood connection to each other. Whew!

Problem 5: I wanted to somehow convert the main conflict of Sauron versus the West into the 'Jane Austen' realm - ie the 'battles' occur mostly during conversations.

I decided to include a plot point like this: Denethor has done something to disgrace himself and get kicked out of the role of Prince Regent (this feeds into Boromir's feelings of inadequacy regarding his line). The next closest relative steps into the role - Sauron! Oh no! This will be the main world conflict of the fic and is the prompt for Aragorn, who is now of age, to return and take up his role, and save his people from the ravages of this unqualified leader. I squeezed Sauron into the family tree as Aragorn's first cousin twice removed.

Problem 6: But, I still want some battles, if not 'on screen' then at least referenced.

This is straight from Sharpe, but my idea is that there is a war going on and many peers' sons have commissions in the Army. Boromir is a Colonel (the highest rank you could purchase), Faramir is a Major (because there's no way in hell Denethor would fork out for a higher rank than that), Theodred was also a Major before he died, Eomer and Legolas are both Captains. And they all go off to fight together, mainly so that Boromir can get injured and give us the opportunity for some h/c xD

Problem 7: So, what happened to Aragorn (and Cin) after his parents died, then? How come Sauron is able to step in and take over?

Sticking reasonably closely to the canon storyline, I decided to make it that Elrond (ALSO a distant relation of Aragorn - second cousin once removed, making Arwen Aragorn's third cousin, which is far enough removed to be okay, I think) stepped in to take care of Aragorn. My idea is that his parents were killed in the same 'accident' as Cin's, so Elrond takes both in as wards. He hides them from society in order to protect them both.

Problem 8: If Aragorn is the Prince, Denethor must be a sufficiently senior peer in order to hold the Prince Regent position (for a time, at least) - even though in Jane Austen most characters are not this senior in rank.

I mean, there's Lady Catherine de Bourgh and a few other mentions of Knights and Earls, etc. But I'm okay with adding peerage titles into this fic because it's fun and I think it fits - the various families must be sufficiently senior otherwise it's not realistic that they're all hanging out together. So I've made Denethor a Duke, which is the most senior rank in the peerage without being actually royal (I went with 'Duke of Osgiliath'). Dukes normally have secondary titles which they lend to their son and heir, so for Boromir I picked 'Earl of Ithilien' (as I mentioned above). I made Elrond a Marquess, and his heir Elladan a Baron, and I made Theoden a Viscount. So all those characters get to be referred to by weird titles!

So, this is becoming a crazy long post, but here's the result of my work:

I think this is going to be too small to see in one image, so I've broken it down. Here is the key and a helpful 'cousin chart', because this gets complex:

And here are the segments.

Here is the line of kings, including Aragorn and Cin (my protag) plus Sauron:

Here is Denethor's line, with our main love interest:

Here is Elrond's line - things are getting a bit awkward for anyone who really deeply knows the canon family trees, but I'm saying that Dior was the younger brother of Argonui (who was Aragorn's great grandfather):

And finally, here is Theoden's line, separate from the rest at the start of the fic, but obviously they ultimately join up in two places (Eowyn = Faramir and later Eomer = Lothiriel:

So that's it. Let me know what you think guys, I had fun thinking through all this. Now I just need to actually write it :p