#theoden's reign

[metalby]

Theoden's Reign [Mitheithel]. 2023. Bandcamp, Spotify, Facebook, Amazon, Youtube. Twitter(metalone).

[torchwood-99]

So many people in Rohan respected Eowyn. She was the person they chose to look after them in Theoden's stead, she got everyone settled and safe in Dunharrow, despite many being reluctant to leave their homes, and when she wanted to ride to war, Elfhelm and his bros helped out. And considering she stayed by Theoden's side all through Grima's reign of terror, likelihood is they respected her because she earned it.

The only person who didn't respect her was her uncle, the man who took on the role of father figure after her own father died.

Her first father "fails" her by dying.

Then she's "failed" by Theoden, through falling into "dishonoured dotage" and needing her care instead of giving her any, and then forgetting her and the sacrifices she made, she falls desperately in love with another king, and begs for a return of his affections.

After Aragorn denies her, she gives into despair and rides, looking for death.

During this ride she sticks close to Theoden at all times, and is willing to give herself up to torture worse than death to defend his body.

This woman has serious daddy issues.

(Do you think if Faramir wasn't around she'd have formed some sort of obsession with the Warden? Not romantic but something. I mean if she studied under him to become a healer could there have been some some serious student and teacher hero worship going on? Or was Aragorn telling her he always wanted her to be happy and bringing out the "big thee" enough?)

[opinions-about-tiaras]

So apparently the Rohirrim-focused Lord of the Rings animated movie is actually happening. I have to say that after it kept getting pushed back and there was no hype, no trailers, no nothing, I thought it wouldn't. But no, they showed like twenty minutes at Annecy and apparently it looks pretty good? They released no trailer to the public, but they did release some promo images, and I like what I'm seeing:

Image quality is kind of shitty, but that sure is the Golden Hall, and I do like a redhead. Very Princess Mononoke vibe from the whole thing.

So this is honestly a pretty good idea. I have zero interest in watching old man Viggo Mortensen track Gollum for four hours. That is... that does nothing for me. But the saga of Helm Hammerhand is a great hook; it's in familiar, iconic locations, but the events themselves are sketched out so roughly you can do an awful lot with them. There's political machinations, betrayal, war, conquest, pride, envy, some of that good shit that Tolkien really excelled at. Helm's daughter didn't even have a name in the appendices, which means that you're free to flesh her out just about any way you like.

But anyway! This got me to thinking about Helm and his reign.

So I hauled my books down off the shelf and read up on ol' Helm, and... okay, wow. I was honestly sort of surprised by what I found there. I remembered this, but hadn't really thought about it before.

Helm, the storied king of Rohan, second in renown only to Theoden and Eorl himself, is sort of... he isn't great. He sort of sucks, actually, I think.

You know what, I'm just going to excerpt the whole thing, which isn't that long:

Of the Kings of the Mark between Eorl and Theoden most is said of Helm Hammerhand. There was at that time a man named Freca, who claimed descent from King Freawine, though he had, men said, much Dunlendish blood, and was dark-haired. He grew rich and powerful, having wide lands on either side of the Adorn. Near its source he made himself a stronghold and paid little heed to the king. Helm mistrusted him, but called him to his councils; and he came when it pleased him. To one of these councils Freca rode with many men, and he asked the hand of Helm's daughter for his son Wulf. But Helm said: "You have grown big since you were last here; but it is mostly fat, I guess"; and men laughed at that, for Freca was wide in the belt. Then Freca fell into a rage and reviled the king, and said this at the last: "Old kings that refuse a proffered staff may fall on their knees." Helm answered: "Come! The marriage of your son is a trifle. Let Helm and Freca deal with it later. Meanwhile the king and his council have matters of moment to consider." When the council was over, Helm stood up and laid his great hand on Freca's shoulder, saying: "The king does not permit brawls in his house, but men are freer outside"; and he forced Freca to walk before him out from Edoras into the field. To Freca's men that came up he said: "Be off! We need no hearers. We are going to speak of a private matter alone. Go and talk to my men!" And they looked and saw that the king's men and his friends far outnumbered them, and they drew back. "Now, Dunlending," said the king, "you have only Helm to deal with, alone and unarmed. But you have said much already, and it is my turn to speak. Freca, your folly has grown with your belly. You talk of a staff! If Helm dislikes a crooked staff that is thrust on him, he breaks it. So!" With that he smote Freca such a blow with his fist that he fell back stunned, and died soon after. Helm then proclaimed Freca's son and near kin the king's enemies; and they fled, for at once Helm sent many men riding to the west marches.

It's been some years since I read this, and I have to say that... well.. Helm doesn't come off as the wronged party here, or as a just, evenhanded king. He comes off as a murderous asshole.

Freca is clearly an overmighty vassal, not doing proper homage to his king. This is a good reason for said king to mistrust him, but so far he hasn't done anything actually wrong.

Freca wants to make a match between his son and a daughter of the royal house. As someone with royal blood himself, a cousin to the king (Freawine is Helm's great-grandfather; Freca is probably Helm's third or second cousin) who has a mighty fief, Wulf would be an acceptable match. Helm, however, doesn't just demur, refusing the match; he responds to the offer with an insult. That's his right as king, of course, but it's still a dick move.

Freca responds by getting angry and "reviling" his king, and then issuing a veiled threat; saying in essence that Helm needs him more than he needs Helm. This crosses a number of lines; even when the king insults you in front of his entire court, you really can't do that back to him. Helm would be entitled to demand an apology, or banish Freca from his councils, or any one of a number of other appropriate proportionate punishments.

Instead Helm escalates about as far as you can escalate. First he forces Freca from his hall, probably so he can't be said to have slain a guest beneath his roof. (The Rohirrim are based on Anglo-Saxon cultural traditions and this had a strong, though not unbreakable, concept of guest right. I'm making a bit of an assumption there, tho.) Then he essentially says that in his eyes, Freca isn't one of the Eorlingas, one of the Men of the Mark; he is a Dunlending, which of course places him outside of the king's protection.

Then Helm simply straight-up murders him with his bare hands in cold blood.

Following this murder, of which there is not even a pretense of it being an act of a king dispensing justice rather than that of a thug murdering a rival, Helm puts the cherry on the sundae by dispossessing Helm's heirs and family and driving them from their homes by force.

And I mean. Fuck me. This is classic "how blood feuds start" shit. If I were Wulf I abso-fucking-lutely would have raised an army and come back and conquered the shit out of Rohan. The king murdered your dad! In front of everyone!

Helm Hammerhand is the proximate cause of his own kingdom's near-demise.

[the-ephemeral-ethereal]

The Fourth Age: Eomer Eadig

Older brother of Eowyn, Lady of The Shield-Arm

King of The Mark succeeding Theoden, reigning for 65 years

Wed Lothiriel, daughter of Imrahil of Dol Amroth

Succeeded by his son, Elfwine the Fair

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Of Princes and Witches (Rewrite) Chapter 13- Legolas Greenleaf x OC

Legolas Greenleaf x Alphine Barrowes

Description: The people of Rohan arrive at Helm's Deep, but at the cost of Aragorn - or so Alphine thinks.

Word Count: 2.5k

Alphine kept her horse close to Legolas and Aragorn as they made their journey to Helm’s Deep. As she listened to idle chatter behind her an odd sort of feeling washed over her. There was something that felt off, though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. Her eyes grazed over the land that surrounded them, attempting to decipher what could be the cause of the sudden sensation. So far the journey had been going smoothly, so she didn’t logically have anything to worry about.

She attempted to rid her mind of the paranoia, but it was quickly washed away when Hama and Gamling rode past her. Her eyes followed them curiously, then she looked up to Legolas, who had decided to run ahead to keep a lookout. He stood on top of a hillock, head also turning to the two guards in confusion. She was simultaneously glad that he shared her confusion and concerned that her paranoia was not unjust. 

She was prepared to ask Aragorn about it when she heard a pained yell. Immediately her senses had been put into overdrive. She looked to where Legolas was supposed to be, but he was no longer there. Her brows furrowed and she looked at Aragorn, who merely told her to stay with Theoden and Gimli before running up the hill. Just a few minutes later he reappeared in a hurry. Theoden rode up to him with the Witch close behind. 

“What is it? What do you see?” The King asked. 

“A Warg! We’re under attack,” Aragorn informed him as he ran to his horse. The people of Rohan began to panic as he continued, demanding to get them out of there. 

“All riders to the head of the column,” Theoden instructed loudly before turning to Eowyn. “You must lead the people to Helm’s deep, and make haste.” Eowyn protested, stating that she could fight, but Theoden refused. After a moment of hesitance, she finally turned away and began leading the people to safety. 

“Follow me!” Theoden called, riding off. Aragorn, Alphine, Legolas, Gimli and the riders followed him while the townsfolk followed Eowyn to safety. 

Alphine waited until they were upon the wargs to draw her sword and she swung it, instantly beheading an Orc. After that she slid off her horse to begin fighting another Orc that was finishing off a fallen soldier. It was a rough fight, but she ended victoriously. She barely had time to stand up straight before she was tackled from behind by yet another one that rode a Warg. That caught her off guard, and made her drop her sword as she attempted to scramble away from the vicious creatures. It proved to be all for naught as she was pinned down by the Orc, who by now had dismounted his warg and was readying to kill her.

He held his sword high, ready to strike, but and thrusted her hand at him, sending him flying far over the battle and landing behind the cliff the battle took place on. Once she was sure he couldn’t come back she took care of the Warg with a simple flick of her wrist. The number of Wargs and Orcs dwindled rapidly until they finally fled, and Rohan reigned victorious. 

Upon realizing this, Alphine couldn’t help but smile as she looked around. She scanned the many faces of soldiers (alive and dead) around her in search of her companions. That same unsettling feeling from earlier settled into her stomach the longer she didn’t see Aragorn, Gimli or Legolas. She began walking around, calling out for any and all of them. As she stopped to scan the battlefield for what must have been the fiftieth time her eyes finally landed on the long and beautiful blonde hair of Legolas. 

“Legolas!” She called, relieved. The Elf  turned around curiously upon hearing his name, only for a smile to break out onto his face as she jogged over to him. His arms were open and ready when she all but jumped into them. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she muttered, trying to calm her racing heart. Legolas stroked her hair with a small smile. 

“As am I,” he responded gently before looking around. “Have you seen Aragorn anywhere?” The girl’s brows furrowed in confusion, and she shook her head. 

“Not since we attacked. Why? Have you not seen him?” 

“No,” he answered, brows furrowing in concern. 

“Me neither,” a gruff voice spoke from behind them. Upon pulling away and turning around they were met with Gimli, who stood behind them leaning against his axe. His addition didn’t ease Alphine’s unease and she found herself looking around. 

“Aragorn?” She called carefully, beginning to walk away from them. Legolas and Gimli followed her, also calling out for their friend until they came upon the clifftop. Legolas broke away to examine something on the ground shortly before they heard a laugh. Alphine and Gimli ventured towards it, but their hopes quickly vanished when they came upon a dying Orc. The Dwarf was quick to raise his axe to it threateningly. 

“Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing,” he demanded. 

“He’s…dead,” the Orc spat, still laughing. “He took a tumble off the cliff.” Alphine couldn’t believe her ears. It can’t be. Legolas seemed to share her sentiment because he grabbed the Orc aggressively. 

“You lie,” he hissed. The orc sputtered one last time before taking his last breath. That’s when the Witch noticed something in his hand, a necklace. It was Aragorn’s necklace. She knew what it looked like because she’d seen him examine it during nights by the campfire when he thought the others were asleep. Legolas’ eyes widened at it, and he ran to the edge of the cliff desperately, where Theoden already stood gazing over the edge of it. Gimli joined just a minute later, and then finally Alphine. Below the cliff was nothing but a flowing river. And there was no sign of Aragorn anywhere. She heard Legolas’ breath hitch, and she pressed a comforting hand to his shoulder as she willed herself not to tear up. She’d come to learn of his bond with Aragorn early into the quest, so she understood what he was feeling. Theoden looked away as a Rohan soldier walked up to him. 

“Get the wounded on horses,” the King instructed. “The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead.” Dead. The girl closed her eyes at the word, but they reopened quickly as she sighed shakily. 

“We have to go, Legolas,” she informed him softly. For a second the Elf didn’t move, but then his sad eyes met hers. She offered him a weak smile and gently squeezed his shoulder. 

“Come on,” she urged, hand sliding down to grab his so she could lead him back to their horses. 

Alphine hadn’t spoken much since the ambush. She didn’t have a lot to say now. Aragorn was dead. Yet another friend was dead. They barely had time to mourn him before they had to set up defenses and rations for the people of Rohan. Nevertheless Alphine did her best to help as much as she could. 

When she wasn’t helping set up she was checking on her remaining companions. Gimli was okay enough (or he at least pretended to be okay) that she didn’t have to worry about him quite as much. Legolas was a different story. He’d been practically despondent since they’d arrived at Helm’s Deep. It broke her heart to see him so upset. She was more than aware of their bond, having learned about it from the Elf himself a while ago. She understood what he was feeling, because she’d felt the exact same thing when Gandalf fell. 

One evening she found him sitting on the wall of the otherwise empty battlements. He’d been staring out at the vast lands that surrounded Helm’s Deep, looking like he was deep in thought. Though, upon closer inspection Alphine could see the woeful look in his eyes. She silently made her way over to him, leaning against the wall beside him. Legolas didn’t spare her a glance until she spoke. 

“Do you remember what you told me after Gandalf fell?” She asked softly. The Elf merely hummed as he faced her. 

“You told me that he wouldn’t want you to mourn his loss, but to celebrate his long and happy life. We all know the kind of person he was, and he would have wanted us to be happy with his successful sacrifice for all of us.” 

“Aragorn’s fall was an accident. He did not sacrifice himself,” Legolas muttered. 

“Didn’t he?” She asked rhetorically. “To me, he has sacrificed himself this entire quest to make sure that we could do what we were sent out to do. His sacrifice may not have been at that cliff, but it was noble nonetheless. Either way, I believe he wouldn’t want us to mourn that. It would put to shame what he did.” Once again Legolas was silent, though he finally spoke after some thought. 

“It does not sway the pain that consumes me. I’m afraid I’m not quite as used to death as you might be.” 

“Oh I’m not used to it at all,” she refuted. “And I do not wish to get used to it because that means I’ve lost the ability to feel empathy and the ability to feel in general. Just as I would not wish that upon you, especially when it’s a friend you’ve known for years like Aragorn. I believe you should grieve the loss of your friend, but do not grieve his sacrifice.” She gingerly reached out, sliding her hand into his. A small smile formed on her face when she felt him entangle their fingers. 

“Thank you, Alphine,” he muttered almost too quietly that if there were any more people around she likely wouldn’t have heard him. Rather than respond the Witch lifted their clasped hands to her lips. She didn’t kiss his hand though, instead just sort of letting it sit there for a minute before lowering them back onto the wall. They didn’t need anymore words, just being in each other’s presence was enough of a comfort in itself. 

The next day seemed well enough. Alphine was in the great hall with Theoden and Gamling, idly listening to them talk. Her ears perked up when she heard a small commotion outside and she glanced at the window curiously. Theoden and Gamling didn’t seem to hear it though, so she didn’t pay any mind to it. That failed immediately as the doors to the hall suddenly burst open, effectively scaring everyone in the room. A singular figure appeared in the doorway, and the Witch’s eyes widened when she realized who it was. Aragorn! She stood from her seat as Aragorn walked towards Theoden, Legolas and Gimli now behind him.

“Isengard is emptied,” he informed the King, which made Theoden, Gamling and Alphine’s eyes widen. 

“How many?” Theoden asked solemnly. 

“Ten thousand strong at least,” Aragorn answered as Legolas walked past them, having noticed Alphine’s still shocked expression about the Man being alive after all. He took her hands with a small smile, offering her a reassuring nod when she asked the silent question of whether Aragorn was really there. Meanwhile Theoden was even more surprised by the ranger’s response, repeating it in disbelief and earning a nod. 

“It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall.” Everyone in the hall stared at Theoden, awaiting his response. The King pursed his lips then turned, walking away. 

“Let them come!” Everyone stood in shock for a moment, but eventually followed him outside to the gate. He instructed Gamling to gather every man and strong lad able to bear arms and be ready for battle by nightfall. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli attempted to get him to call for aid but Theoden was having a difficult time budging, saying that no army had ever breached the walls of Helm’s Deep. 

“King Theoden, they do not come to destroy Rohan’s crops or villages,” Alphine finally interrupted, gaining his attention. “They come to destroy its people…down to the last child.” She flinched in surprise when the King suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were quick to follow, and the latter forced Theoden’s hand from her.

“And what would you have me do?” Theoden questioned. “Look at my men, their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end…as to be worthy of remembrance.” 

“Send out for riders, my lord,” Alphine answered desperately. “You must call for aid.” 

“And who will come?” The King asked. “Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead.”

“Gondor will answer,” Aragorn offered. That angered Theoden enough to put his face in the ranger’s. 

“Gondor?” He repeated hotly. “Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon-” he stopped himself, forcing himself to calm down and step away. “No, my Lord Aragorn…we are alone. I suggest you prepare for battle.” With one last look, he walked back into the hall with Gamling and some guards following. Faintly they could hear him instructing them to get the women and children into the caves. 

Aragorn shook his head at the King’s behavior, then turned when he heard Alphine sighed behind him. She also looked disappointed about what just occurred, but looked at her friend when she heard him breathe a chuckle. A small smile appeared on her face as she pulled him into a hug, which he gladly returned. Once they pulled away the Witch suddenly punched his shoulder. Aragorn grunted and held his arm while staring at her in bewilderment, Legolas and Gimli also sporting the same look. 

“Don’t do that to me ever again. I was worried sick about you!” She reprimanded him, though there was no conviction in her words. The boys relaxed after she spoke, and the Man shook his head amusedly before hugging her again. 

“I missed you too, Alphine.” The Witch couldn’t help but laugh softly, then a thought hit her. 

“Oh! I almost forgot,” she muttered, unwrapping one arm from his middle to dig into her pocket, pulling his necklace out from it. “You left this at the cliff and that orc was kind enough to hold it until I got there.” Aragorn couldn’t help but laugh as he lowered his head enough for her to wrap the necklace around his neck. 

“How kind of him,” he joked, earning a giggle from her before his amused smile turned into a more genuine one. “Hannon le, mellon nin (Thank you, my friend).” The girl merely smiled and patted his shoulder before facing the others. 

“Come, we must prepare for battle.”

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

I am currently writing a fic that takes place in Rohan a few years before the events of LotR.

I decided I wanted the characters to occasionally speak in Rohirric. Except, there's no Rohirric in LotR. No problem, I thought. I'll just come up with some Anglo-Saxonish sounding words and phrases. Not a lot - just enough to sound convincing.

Two days on, I'm coming up with verb inflections and conjugations, subject and object pronouns, sentence order, verb placement, vowel length, rhoticity, regional accents, use of the glottal stop, and a list of which verbs are irregular and the (hilarious) reasons why. All based on real Germanic languages, cus I think that's a good starting point.

I fear this may prove to be a terrible mistake. There's going to be a scene somewhere in my story like that bit in 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail', where the guard corrects Brian's verb conjugation.

Sigh.

The things we do for our art.

I am very impressed! That is way more than I'd ever do (I'm not a linguist and I'd want it to be perfect so uh...you see where the rub is). The anglo-saxon shit I riff is as far as I'm willing to go so I'm very impressed!

Starting with germanic - particularly older germanic languages is a good start. Like Tolkien used Welsh as the launch pad for his elvish languages because he liked how it sounded. Also I think some finnish? But don't quote me on that.

So long as Rohirric sounds rolling like hills they live on, as Aragorn described it, I think you've pretty much free reign to do whatever tickles your fancy. A very liberating thing with Rohan is how much world building can be done because Tolkien didn't really invest in it how he did his other peoples and lands.

Even the names he took pretty directly from anglo-saxon and Scandanavian literature without changeing much. (Grima, Eomer, Theoden etc. - all from different sagas and poems. For some he modernised the spelling a bit e.g. þeodnes became Theoden - but both mean prince/lord etc. But others, like Grima, he left as it's found in the Icelandic sagas.)

Anyway - hats off to you, that is some serious dedication. I do hope it won't derail the writing too much! I'm curious what your story is going to be about - prewar years hold such potential.

And yes hahaha gods the things we do for our art.

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Heritage posted, 1-28-23)

Lothiriel sees Rohan’s heritage carried on in her son.  (Family, Comfort)

 Note:  Theodred is 4 here.

 Heritage  -  (Feb, 27 IV)

Lothiriel entered the nursery with an armload of clean clothes to be put away.  Humming a tune under her breath, she moved toward the chest, but a sound to her right caught her attention.  Turning, she found her husband sound asleep in the big comfortable chair he had placed there so long ago, and curled contentedly in his lap was their youngest son, Theodred.  Seeing her coming toward him, with exaggerated expression he put a finger to his lips and loudly whispered, “Shhhh, Mama!  Papa is sleeping.” 

She smiled at her two men cuddled together, and knelt by the chair.  “What have you and Papa been doing, dearest?” she asked softly.

Solemnly, he told her, “Papa was telling me about cousin Theodred and how I got my name.”  Looking thoughtful, he asked, “When I am big, Mama, will I be brave like cousin Theodred?”

She gave him a tender look, “I am sure you will, little one, but even more than that, I am sure you will be strong and kind and all the other good things cousin Theodred was.”

He considered this a moment, then queried, “Why did he have to die?  I want to meet him.”

Rubbing his leg, she answered, “That is just how life is sometimes, dearest.  We do not get to choose how long we will be here.  All we can do is make the most of our time. Theodred fought hard and bravely to make sure that our world would still exist, and would be a better place for children like you.  But I think he would have liked to meet you also.” 

She brushed at a tear, then added, “You know what – as long as we remember him, he is never truly gone. And one day, when it is our turn to die, we will see him again.  When that happens, he will give you a big hug and you can tell him all about your time on earth, and tell him how you tried to live up to his good name.”

Theodred thought about this, then grinned, “Yes!  I will do that.  I want him to be proud of me!”

Eomer stirred a bit in the chair, shifting his position to get more comfortable, and Theodred snuggled back into his arms.  Stroking the child’s cheek, Lothiriel suggested, “Why do you not close your eyes and keep Papa company until he wakes?”

Theodred gave a sleepy nod, already beginning to drift off, and Lothiriel quickly put the clothes away before slipping quietly out of the room.  Pulling the door closed behind her, she leaned against it. 

She was glad Eomer had finally been able to talk about his cousin.  Even after all these years, he still tended to get choked up and found it difficult to speak of one he considered a brother.  But it was important that Theodred not be forgotten.  His sacrifice for Rohan had been no less important than Theoden’s or all the other men who died under Saruman and Sauron’s reign of terror.

There might not be lays and songs sung of Theodred – his valor had been overshadowed by the final battles of the Ring War –  but in Eomer’s son his name would not be forgotten, and his memory would always be honored.

THE END

 also on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/44616109/chapters/112237711

[torchwood-99]

If Eowyn had grown up in a less sexist society, I think she would have shown her hot headedness more, but would have been less angry as a person, less resentful, and more likely to listen to advice, because that advice wouldn't have been given to her, because she would have received less advice that was ruled by perceptions of her sex.

As for who would have been the better monarch, both Eomer and Eowyn I think had the capabilities to be great monarchs, while also being flawed. Their hot-headedness would have been a problem.

Some people might cite Eowyn leaving Dunharrow to be a sign of her not being fit to be a ruler, but the people there were well set up, and Erkenbrand was in a position of authority, and was charged with protecting Rohan. Basically, her departure didn't do Rohan much harm. While the people would have been grateful for her presence, they would have survived without her.

She never left Theoden or Edoras during the worst years of Grima's reign, nor turned traitor to Rohan, despite Grima encouraging a disgust in her land, so she certainly had a fair bit of resilience, and the people wanted her to rule them when Theoden marched for Helm's Deep, and she was able to get the reluctant people from their homes to Dunharrow without and "evil deeds" taking place, and get the camp set up, so she was certainly an effective leader.

Eomer Eadig we know was an excellent king, his reign being blessed. He was great at making allies, at listening to advice but also making his own decisions. Sometimes he needed his eyes opening to stuff he had missed (like Eowyn's depression and the causes) but when this was pointed out to him he took on board. He seemed to have found a good balance between taking instruction from those he trusted, while also knowing his own mind, being neither too pig headed, or too easily manipulated (as Theoden was by Grima).

I think in a canon setting, Eomer would have proved the more succesful ruler. Not because of his greater skill set (although his time as a commander probably gave him a leg up, that said, Eowyn's time as Lady of Meduseld would have given her an advantage in domestic affairs, so it evens out) but because while Eomer suffered from the war, he had a better outlet for his suffering.

He seemed to have better emotional resilience than Eowyn, as a result to not having to suffer from the sexism she endured, which I think would have set him up for better for coping with the emotional strain of being King.

After everything Eowyn had endured, she would have had the potential to be ana amazing queen, but she needed to escape. She needed a fresh start, and she needed freedom. She would have none of that as ruling queen (or queen consort, which is why it's probably a good thing that she didn't marry Aragorn.)

Marrying Faramir to "build a garden" and become a healer would have given her responsibilities, but she wouldn't have had the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders. Ithilien would have been a fresh start, a new land, which is what she needed.

Her relationship with Faramir showed that like Eomer she was able to listen to advice and guidance, but she (rightfully) was more hesitant to do so, as much of the advice given to her had been dictated to be her sex, and "advice" was more often than not orders from her kin, or manipulation from Grima. Faramir, whose advice was worth hearing, she heard.

If Eomer and Eowyn had shared a more equal upbringing, with both of them trained in domestic and martial affairs, honestly don't think there would have been much in between them. They're both clever, brave, loyal, they inspire loyalty and they're able to get people to follow them.

Ideal situation? The two of them as co-rulers, both of them taking turns ruling from home and ruling from the front, mixing up their duties to give each other a break and a respite from the ordeals of leadership. That they would have shared the burden of king/queen regent would have meant they'd be a support to each other, and been less isolated in their rank.

How about post-war setting, Eomer disappears in battle and is presumed dead. Eowyn is called back to Rohan to rule as Queen. Lothiriel has actually had a son at this point, but he's a baby, and the people want to be ruled by Eowyn, and if she's gonna be regent, she might as well be queen. To allow for Eomer's son to succeed her, and to avoid Gondor having sovereignty over Rohan her marriage to Faramir is declared morganatic. This means neither couple took on each other's titles, and their children wouldn't inherit Rohan (there's a clause for their children being heires of Ithilien). That way Eomer's kid is Eowyn's heir, and Eowyn is no longer the lady of a Gondorian principality.

Eowyn does well as queen, but struggles because Faramir has to spend long periods of time away from her side.

Eomer returns after a good few years, during which time Eowyn ahs proven herself an amazing queen. Lothiriel, devastated by Eomer's loss, has returned home to Dol Amroth, although she has to send Elfwine to Rohan for long periods of time so he can be raised as befitting an heir. She still loves Rohan, but finds it a bittersweet place now that she has lost Eomer.

In a ceremony before the court, she presents Eomer his crown back, but he gives her a crown of her own, and declares her a "junior king" (a practise actually used by kings, who would declare their heirs junior kings), and the two of them split the rule of Rohan.

Eowyn is therefore able to return to Ithilien with Faramir for long stretches of time, while also assisting Eomer in his rule as king as he makes the hard adjustment back to life in Rohan, after having gone on a long and perilous journey to escape from wherever he was to return home.

Question: since Eowyn and Eomer have the same parents (read: Eomund’s hothead genes), do you believe Eowyn would be just as hotheaded as her brother if she were a man? As a lady, there were different expectations of her, so perhaps that’s why we don’t get to see much of that hotheadedness?

Ooh, thinking about what someone with Éowyn’s personality but who was born into the opportunities and freedoms that men had is a really interesting exercise! Thanks for asking! ❤️

I do believe Éowyn had those same hothead genes, and I actually think that we can already see them in her in the canonical story. She doesn’t have all the same opportunity as a man to show it, but she does repeatedly act impulsively and decisively; is very brave and heedless of danger; is very consumed with realizing her own goals to the exclusion of other considerations, etc. — all characteristics that are definitely hothead-adjacent.

When Aragorn unexpectedly appears in Rohan, representing everything that Éowyn wants to be and do and achieve, she wastes very little time before she is literally begging him to take her away with him. She’s immediately willing to throw overboard almost everything about her life to date to follow a man she barely knows into a situation that she doesn’t fully understand. That’s not exactly careful, rational decision making (even if we, as readers, don’t disagree with her choice!). We also famously see her boldly defy the orders of her father figure and king by sneaking into battle on her own — and with an unauthorized hobbit in tow! — not because she made a reasoned calculation about what was best for Rohan or Théoden or herself but simply because she was so singularly focused on her own goal. So again, even if we are entirely sympathetic to that decision and in retrospect know that it was the right one, that’s got some clear hothead vibes that go with it. 

She also repeatedly courts death, mouths off to the Witch King himself (“be gone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion!”) and laughs in his face, demands to be put back into battle as soon as she’s awake again in the houses of healing even though she doesn’t know anything about how conditions have changed since her injury, and is a little bristle-y with Faramir in some of their early interactions, jumping to her own conclusions about what he thinks and means when he speaks to her. All of that feels consistent to me with someone who is quick to their emotions, recklessly brave, and willing to act without sitting around to carefully analyze a situation first. She even talks about herself as being ungentle and a wild woman that others might seek to tame, which suggests to me that she also saw herself as embodying many of those same hotheads traits — bold, unconventional, potentially dangerous, etc. 

So I think she and Éomer both show some signs of hotheadedness throughout the story, and I think they show that a little hotheadedness isn’t always a bad thing! Éomund just had way too much of it and was impervious to being curbed, whereas Éomer takes advice when it’s given and Éowyn comes to see that acting with more deliberateness (as Faramir does) isn’t a bad thing either.

But all that leaves open to question whether Éowyn would have been an even bigger hothead if she had been a man. I see two possibilities there. Either her personality would have been exactly the same but the effect of her actions and behavior would have been magnified (making Lord Éowyn SEEM like a bigger hothead than Lady Éowyn) because a male version of her would have had more opportunities to follow his impulses and cause a ruckus. OR, perhaps some of her instincts would have actually been dampened a little bit by the additional freedoms of life as a man — without some of the (entirely justified!!!) resentment and frustrations that Lady Éowyn felt, perhaps Lord Éowyn would have been a bit mellower. I’m inclined toward a middle ground — some of the latter, but with the clear stipulation that even then Lord Éowyn was NEVER going to be an entirely cool, collected cucumber because that’s just not his core personality or how this family works! 

All my own 2 cents of course. I’d be very curious to hear others’ thoughts as well! 

[youareunbearable]

I might not do anything with this BUT I've been thinking about the Shadow of Mordor games again and how FUN would it be if Sauron did that but instead of bringing back Celebrimbor he uses his necromancy magic to bring back Maedhros

An imposingly tall figure, all done up in Sauron's spikey black armor, instead of his mace there is a wicked black blade where a right hand should be. He roams at the front of the Nazgul, blade at the ready as the other holds the reigns to a monstrous horse

People are terrified, thinking that Sauron himself is roaming the wilds, he stalks the Fellowship, nothing seems to stop him only delay him. Gandalf isn't sure its Sauron himself, but something about him under all that twisted and dark and evil song sings pure, like a dull flicker of white flame, like a weak candle.

When Boromir dies, that figure is with the orcs, it isnt the one to slay Boromir, but turns away and it seems to know where the ring is. The orcs are too focused on Merry and Pipin to follow the Figure, but he walks off. He stands on the shores as Frodo and Sam shiver in the Swan boat, but it does nothing but watch them as they sail off. It makes no motion to follow them or attack their small boat, just watch transfixed. Sam makes a comment that it looks like the Figure's armor makes it almost like it has a metal collar around its neck and cuffs on its wrists

During the battle of Helm's Deep, that Figure is back again, silently leading the siege. At one point, an Elven arrow hits the Figure's helm, knocking it a little loose and from under the helm tumbles a single red lock of hair. Its so red that almost looks like a smoldering flame. Haldir, who lives with the survivors of Doriath, sees that red hair, that tall stature, the handless right wrist and pales. While he wasn't there to witness the destruction of Doriath, he has heard the tales, he knows about the red haired monster that haunts the memories of the Sindar, and he knows what that Figure is capable of. Luckily, that Figure manages to catch a glimpse of Aragorn, and Freezes once again, a single stone that cuts through the rushing current of orcs all around him. Haldir doesn't see it again, but then again, Haldir doesn't see much of anything again.

(The Figure sees Gandalf on the hill, arriving with the dawn and reinforcments and it grieves, something in it breaks all over again but the magic puppeting its moves doesn't allow it to dwell. The helm is readjusted and the hair is tucked away and the Figure turns and leaves the battlefield. Its being summonded somewhere else.)

The war rages on, the Witch King is dead, but so is King Theoden. The Figure is trapped, the right wrist is pinned under the corpse of an oliphant and Elrond's sons watch as the Figure struggles before lying still. It's clearly not dead, but realizing it's trapped.

Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli join the twins. Gimli offers to thrust his axe in its chest, Legolas insists that he can shoot through its eye from a safer distance. Aragorn, who heard Haldir's frantic pleas during his final moments, just observes the Figure.

He notices the strange collar, how it clearly has cuffs on its wrist and feet, like it used to be shackled and chained.

"Can you speak?" He asks it.

The Figure does nothing but turn its helm towards Aragorn. They stare at each other for a few tense moments.

One of the twins, Aragorn still isn't fully sure which one, approches the Figure slowly. The Figure's helm is still directed at Aragorn.

"It feels familiar." The one twin whispers, voice raw from exertion. "It has a fea, it feels warm."

"Like uncle Erestor. Or Lindir." The other twin agrees.

The Figure turns its helm towards the twins at the mention of Erestor. The twin closest to the Figure, quick as an adder, jabs a polearm at the Figure's helm.

It snaps back, the helm tumbling off the Figure's head and those smoldering red locks fan out around the head, obscuring the face from view.

Even without seeing the face it's clearly an Elf. An abused one at that if one just looks at the notches missing from it's pointed ears. The polearm is back, nudging under where a chin should be to lift the face.

First, all that is seen is scars. So many that pull the once handsome face, for even under all its marring one can tell from the bone structure that this was a face that could launch a thousand ships, into a grotesque manner. But it is the eyes, the eyes that makes everyone suck in a breath.

These eyes glow, they glow with power, with light never been seen before, or well, haven't been seen in Ages. These grey eyes glow with the reflected light of the Two Trees, long since felled.

"Oh, Maitimo," Gandalf, who had wandered up the the group, sighed with tremendous sorrow. "What has become of you?"

Maitimo, or Maedhros as those in the Third Age know him as, tries to speak. His lips move, which brings attention to the fact that they are loosely sewn together with a black cord that seems to pull and ooze blood, never letting the wounds heal. His voice croaks, dry with misuse, but he manages a sound, a breath, perphaps even a word. Each syllable like a dying wheeze. He repeats the sound, again and again, almost becoming frantic with his wheezing chants, blood spilling down his chin from the threads, until it's understandable.

"Necromancer."

[writingfromkitchenator]

Eomer ~ I’ll Be Sure To Remember That

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Round 2

Masterlist

Requested by Anon

Based on an imagine found here by @imaginexhobbit

Words: 978

Warnings: Neutral Reader, battle, smidge angst, protective Eomer, defiant reader

If there was one thing Eomer took peace in knowing as they got ready for the charge, was that you were safe, back with his sister in the city.  Facing the overwhelming forces before them, seeing the white city burning, it was almost enough to make hope falter.

No, this was something you did not need to see, no matter how confident you were that you could handle it.

Eomer let out a steadying breathe, bracing himself as Theoden gave out orders.  He would survive today and whatever else may come, then the two of you would finally be able to settle into a life together.

The thunderous roar of hooves charged forward towards the orcs, battle cries on soldiers’ lips, and Eomer couldn't help but smirk as he saw many an orc begin to cower in fear.

The hearts of men would not be taken this day.

Orcs fled as blade and spear spilled their black blood on the ground, standing little chance against the onslaught.  They were no match for the speed of the Rohirrim though, many falling before any sort of help arrived.

It was as they were reforming the line, readying themselves to face the new approaching threat, that something familiar caught his eye.  It was only for a fleeting second, but it was enough to make Eomer suddenly doubt his judgement.  

He continued to scan his fellow soldiers faces as they started the second charge, but when he came up blank, he shook off his doubt and focused on the battle.

That cannot have been you. You were safe back at home.

The thought didn't last long in amongst the chaos of the Mumakil, Eomer catching sight of a rider charging straight to one of their legs, starting to stand up on the saddle.

There was only one person he knew that made it look that easy.

You.

Anger bubbled in his stomach but he had little time to process it as it turned quickly to concern. You leapt from your horse, getting a firm grip on the ropes and arrows, and starting to climb.

Eomer did his best to stay close, watching you fight above, trying to provide what support he could, including keeping your horse by his side.

He watched, almost holding his breathe, as you approached the head rider.

Your sword pierced him and you quickly grabbed the reigns, slightly out of breath.  “I’ll just…take that.  Thank you sir, have a nice day!”

A quick look at the battlefield and a hard tug of the reigns had you guiding the Mumakil straight into another.

Eomer thought his heart was going to explode from his chest as he watched.  "Y/N!”

He lost track of you, the two Mumakil's crashing together, taking them both down, dust rising thickly in the air.

There was no time to look for you, no time to worry, the battle still a long way from over, but still he tried.  He had to know.

He would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before Aragorn arrived, before his undead army could finally put an end to Sauron’s forces. They were lucky to be alive at all.

Eomer's eyes scanned the faces around him, both living and dead. An icy feeling filled his stomach. He did not want to find you here, not like this, you were safe at home, it had not been you that he had seen.

He froze mid step as he saw you, bloody and filthy, but smiling all the same as you scratched the nose of your horse.

“Y/N.”  Eomer growled, a thousand emotions and thoughts rushing through him at once as he marched forward.  "Just what do you think you are doing here?"

You tensed and met his gaze a little sheepishly.  "Hello Eomer, um, I was helping?"

"Do you have any idea what could've happened?" He asked.  "You could’ve been killed!  And climbing up the- the Mumakil!  Leading it into the other one!  It could've – you could've-"

"I couldn't just sit back and do nothing.”  You said.  “And I'm alright.”

Eomer stared at you, at a complete loss of words, his mouth opening and closing several times before he managed to think of anything.

With a quick step, he closed the remaining distance between the two of you, pulling you to him, his lips crashing hard with yours.  You staggered slightly, but managed to hold onto him, accepting the bruising kiss, knowing that the battle had scared you both.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours, catching his breath for a moment.

"If I ever refuse to bring you into battle again," He said quietly.  “You have permission to come anyway.  That was incredible."

You beamed at him.  “I’ll be sure to remember that."

Eomer smiled and kissed you much more gently this time. “You are amazing, my love, no matter how much you gave me a heart attack."

"I'll be sure to remind you of that to," You giggled, but then your expression became concerned.  "Now, I don't suppose you've seen Eowyn?  I lost track of her and Merry early on."

He sighed, but found himself unsurprised, although the icy feeling returned to his stomach, suddenly wishing he had seen his sister in battle as well as you.  “I have not. Let us find her quickly.  I would... rather know sooner."

You gave his hand a squeeze.  “I’m sure she's fine Eomer."

Eomer just nods, not letting you go.  There was no peace to be had until he knew you were both safe.  This battle had not been for the faint of heart, and while he knew neither of you were, he still wanted to prevent as much heart ache as possible.

He hoped, more then he ever had before, your hand firmly in his, that Eowyn was alright.

[throneshq]

welcome  to  highgarden,  vayla  greyjoy  &  theoden  harlaw,  we’ve  been  expecting  you  !  please  send  in  your  account  within  the  next  twenty  four  hours  !  alyssa  sutherland  &  wang  yibo  are  now  taken  .

*     ──     [   alyssa  sutherland  ,   cis  woman  ,   she  /  her  .   ]   :   in  the  frays  of  king  aerys  iii's   reign  ,  therein  remains  vayla  greyjoy,   the  thirty five  year  old  princess  of  the  iron  islands  .   rumor  has  it  that  their  loyalties  lie  with  house  greyjoy  and  they  are  neutral  to  the  targaryen  reign  .   they're  so  motherly  +  dutiful  that  it  makes  sense  ,   but  most  seem  to  look  past  their  vain  +  ditzy  nature.   when  they  come  up  in  conversation  ,   i'm  always  reminded  of  the  flash  of  gold  on  her  fingers  and  in  her  ears  when  a  grey  sky  turns  oddly  sunny,  a  tinny  laugh  that  is  as  endearing  as  it  is  grating,  eyes  pale  as  sea  glass  set  deep  behind  days  old  kohl  and  salt  spray  .   [   orla  ,  27  ,   gmt  ,   she/her  ,   &   n/a  .   ]

*     ──     [   wang  yibo  ,   cis  man  ,   he  /  him  .   ]   :   in  the  frays  of  king  aerys  iii's   reign  ,  therein  remains  theoden  harlaw,  the  twenty  two  year  old  lord  of  ten  towers  .   rumor  has  it  that  their  loyalties  lie  with house  greyjoy  &  house  harlaw  and  they  are  against  the  targaryen  reign  .   they're  so  dynamic  +  nurturing  that  it  makes  sense  ,   but  most  seem  to  look  past  their  secretive  +  nervous  nature  .   when  they  come  up  in  conversation  ,   i'm  always  reminded  of  being  ride  or  die  with  your  best  friend,  crying  alone  at  3am  with  a  book  in  your  lap  and  wine  in  your  hand,  talking  too  much  about  nothing  .   [   toni  ,  23  ,   gmt  ,   she/her  ,   &   redacted  .   ]

[errruvande]

Catch Up Game

Thank you so much for the tag, sweetheart, sorry it took me so long @my-darling-haldir 💕

Last song I listened to: it's a Russian song called "Horse" by the band Lyube. I absolutely in love with that song especially with Pelageya singing it (it has a russian folk wanna be sound and she's a folk singer. I love it hah) here's the link if you interested (the video has plenty of subtitles)💗

Last movie I watched: The Two Towers just two days ago. I have no tears left in me since then. I mean watching Haldir die in 4k???? And "King Theoden stands alone; Not alone. ROHIRRIM!" and "There won't be a Shire, Pippin" I'm sorry but this bitch is dead

Currently reading: The Silmarillion. I started a millennium ago but have so little time to read rn, it's frustrating 😭btw I'm LIVING for it, can't wait to continue reading *probably will start from the beginning again (from the awkening of the Elves)*

Currently watching: Reign. I'm a slut for period tv shows. That one is pretty good, but my faves are still 'The Borgias' and 'Medici' - 10s 10s 10s across the board. But okay we all know the real reason behind me watching Reign, right? I'm just thirsty for Craig Parker 🤤 and his character is goddamn great

Currently craving: oatmeal cookies 🍪

Currently working on: i'm trying to work through my art block with P.O.W. (my Haldir x OFC multi chapter) and re-reading a bunch of my one shots for Boromir, Faramir and Legolas in case to edit and finally post them lmao i hope at least

Currently playing: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt FINALLY MWAHAHAH

Tag: @the-reformed-ringwraith @aduialel @grunid @hirokosoul @elvish-sky @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @thranduilseyebrows as always i don't know if you've already done that, if so I'm sorry (and no pressure ofc)✨

[thegirlwhohid]

Eomer became a great king, and being young when he succeeded Theoden he reigned for sixty-five years, longer than all their kings before him save Aldor the Old. In the War of the Ring he made the friendship of King Elessar, and of Imrahil of Dol Amroth; and he rode often to Gondor. In the last year of the Third Age he wedded Lothiriel, daughter of Imrahil. Their son Elfwine the Fair ruled after him.

Lothiriel moodboard

Legendarium Ladies April: (17/30)

‘The Lord of the Rings’ characters: (29/?)

Characters’ moodboards: (333/?)

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

To Love a Ranger Chapter 13- Aragorn x OC

Aragorn x Issa

Description: On the way to Helm's Deep the people of Rohan are ambushed by Warg riding Orcs. Aragorn and Issa help fight them off, but only one of them makes it to Helm's Deep. Issa has to deal with the loss of her fiancé, but as it turned out it's not necessary.

Word Count: 2.5k

The next day the people of Rohan (plus the Fellowship) continued their journey to Helm’s Deep. Everything seemed normal enough. Issa listened to the idle chatter around her in silence, but then a weird feeling washed over her. Something didn’t feel right, but what could it be? Her gaze flitted over the land that surrounded them, attempting to decipher what could be the cause of the sudden sensation. Aragorn seemed to sense her uneasiness because he gently elbowed her arm. She faced him, and was met with a concerned look. 

“What is it?” Her fiance asked quietly so as to not alert Theoden. Issa didn’t get the chance to answer before a noise caught their attention. The two of them looked towards a nearby hill, seeing Legolas run down the other side of it. It was cause for concern to Issa, but Aragorn looked at her once more before speaking. 

“Stay here with the others,” he instructed, ignoring her protests as he dismounted his horse and went to go see what was wrong. She noticed Theoden shooting her a confused look, but she could only offer him an equally confused shrug as she awaited Aragorn’s return. It was only a minute or two later that he hurried back down the hill. Theoden and Issa met him halfway on their horses, asking what he saw.

“A Warg! We’re under attack,” Aragorn informed him as he ran to his horse. The people of Rohan began to panic as he continued, demanding to get them out of there. 

“All riders to the head of the column,” Theoden instructed loudly before turning to Eowyn. “You must lead the people to Helm’s deep, and make haste.” The Princess protested, stating that she could fight, but Theoden refused. After a moment of hesitance, she finally turned away and began leading the people to safety. 

“Follow me!” Theoden called, riding off. Aragorn, Issa, Gimli, Legolas and the riders followed him while everyone else followed Eowyn to safety. 

Issa waited until they were upon the Wargs to draw her sword and she swung it, instantly beheading an Orc. After that she slid off her horse to begin fighting an Orc that was attempting to feed on a fallen soldier. It was tough, but she ended victoriously. She barely had time to feel proud before she was tackled from behind by an Orc that rode a Warg. That caught her off guard, and made her drop her sword as she attempted to scramble away from the vicious creatures. It proved to be all for naught as she was pinned down by the Orc, who by now had dismounted his Warg and was readying to kill her.

He held his sword high, ready to strike, but Issa was quick in thinking and grabbed a nearby fallen helmet and used it to punch him, effectively knocking him off of her. Using his disorientation to her advantage, she rolled away and grabbed her sword, swiftly bringing it down upon him. Once she was sure he was dead she took care of the Warg. The number of Wargs and Orcs dwindled rapidly until the riders of Rohan reigned victorious. Upon realizing this, Issa smiled brightly then turned to look for her fiance amongst the crowd. Almost instantly her smile faded. Where was Aragorn? She scanned the many faces of soldiers (alive and dead) around her, but her fiance was not among them. 

“Aragorn?” She called worriedly. He still didn’t show up. An unpleasant feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and she began walking around in search of him. A few minutes later she found Legolas and Gimli searching as well. She joined their party and eventually ended up near the clifftop shortly before they heard a laugh. The trio Gimli ventured towards it, but their hopes quickly vanished when they came upon a dying Orc. The Dwarf was quick to raise his axe to it threateningly. 

“Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing,” he demanded. 

“He’s…dead,” the Orc spat, still laughing. “He took a tumble off the cliff.” Issa couldn’t believe her ears. No. He’s lying. Legolas seemed to share her sentiment because he grabbed the Orc aggressively. 

“You lie,” he hissed. The Orc sputtered one last time before taking his last breath. That’s when Issa noticed something in his hand, a compass. It was Aragorn’s necklace. She knew what it looked like because she gave it to him not long after they began courting (“so you can always find your way back to me,” she used to joke). Tears clouded her vision and she dropped to her knees, gingerly taking the necklace. Legolas’ eyes widened at it, and he ran to the edge of the cliff desperately, where Theoden already stood gazing over the edge of it. Gimli joined just a minute later, and Issa didn’t have to look at them to know that they didn’t see Aragorn. Her tears began falling freely as a Rohan soldier walked up to Theoden. 

“Get the wounded on horses,” the King instructed. “The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead. Come.” Dead. The girl closed her eyes at the word, but they quickly shot open when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Legolas. He had a sympathetic look on his face. 

“We have to go,” he all but whispered. Yet another tear slipped down Issa’s face, landing on the compass in her hand. She allowed Legolas to help her up and led her to their horses with only one word to describe what she felt. Numb.

Issa hadn’t spoken since the ambush. She’d barely even acknowledged anyone really, she didn’t have a lot to say now. Aragorn was dead. They barely had time to mourn him before they had to set up defenses and rations for the people of Rohan. Issa did her best to help as much as she could, but Theoden understood when she just didn’t have the strength. 

Today seemed well enough. Issa was in the hall with Theoden and Gamling, idly listening to them talk. Her ears perked up when she heard a small commotion outside and she glanced at the window curiously. Theoden and Gamling didn’t seem to hear it, so she opted not to pay any mind to it. That failed immediately as the doors to the hall suddenly burst open, effectively scaring the trio. A singular figure appeared in the doorway, and Issa’s eyes widened when she realized who it was. Aragorn! She stood from her seat as Aragorn walked towards Theoden, Legolas and Gimli now behind him.

“Isengard is emptied,” he informed the King, which made Theoden, Gamling and Issa’s eyes widen. 

“How many?” Theoden asked solemnly. 

“Ten thousand strong at least,” Aragorn answered. Theoden was even more surprised by the Ranger’s response, repeating it in disbelief and earning a nod. 

“It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall.” Everyone in the hall stared at Theoden, eagerly awaiting his response. The King pursed his lips then turned, walking away. 

“Let them come!” Everyone stood in shock, but eventually followed him outside to the gate. He instructed Gamling to gather every man and strong lad able to bear arms and be ready for battle by nightfall. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli attempted to get him to call for aid but Theoden was having a difficult time budging, saying that no army had ever breached the walls of Helm’s Deep. 

“King Theoden, they do not come to destroy Rohan’s crops or villages,” Issa finally interrupted, gaining his (and Aragorn’s) attention. “They come to destroy its people…down to the last child.” She was surprised when the King suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her away from prying ears. Aragorn was quick to follow and force Theoden’s hand from her, standing in front of her protectively. Theoden didn’t let that stop him as he responded. 

“And what would you have me do? Look at my men, their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end…as to be worthy of remembrance.” 

“Send out for riders, my lord,” Issa said desperately. “You must call for aid.” 

“And who will come?” Theoden questioned. “Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead.”

“Gondor will answer,” Aragorn offered. That angered Theoden enough to put his face in the ranger’s. 

“Gondor?” He repeated hotly. “Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon-” he stopped himself, forcing himself to calm down and step away. “No, my Lord Aragorn…we are alone. I suggest you spend time with your fiance then prepare for battle.” With one last look, he walked back into the hall with Gamling and some guards following. Faintly they could hear him instructing them to get the women and children into the caves. 

Aragorn shook his head at the King’s behavior, then turned when he heard Issa sigh behind him. She also looked disappointed about what just happened, but looked at her fiance when she heard him breathe a chuckle. A small smile slipped onto her face as she pulled him into a hug. 

“You’re late,” she muttered. Aragorn laughed aloud this time as his arms wrapped around her, resting his chin on top of her head. 

“Yes, Legolas has already kindly reminded me of that,” he responded, receiving a muffled giggle as Issa had buried her face into his chest. 

“How are you alive?” She questioned quietly upon looking at him. “You went over the edge of the cliff. No one could possibly survive that.” 

“Well, I had a very good reason to stay alive. You.” The girl smiled at him then leaned up and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips that he gladly returned. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Issa said after pulling away, she unwrapped one arm from his middle to dig into her pocket, pulling the compass necklace out from it. “You left this at the cliff and that Orc was kind enough to hold it until I got there.” Aragorn couldn’t help but laugh as he lowered his head enough for her to wrap the necklace around his neck. 

“How kind of him,” he joked, earning a giggle from her. After a moment his amused smile melted into a genuine one. 

“You were the only thing that kept me going, the only thing that motivated me to get to Helm’s Deep in time. I love you Issa.” The girl blushed at his admission, and she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“I love you too Aragorn,” she responded softly, then looked around to make sure they were alone before hesitantly continuing. “There’s something I wish to talk to you about, something that went unsaid because I didn’t want you to worry.” The Man’s brows furrowed in concern. 

“What is it?” Issa was silent for another minute, attempting to figure out how she wanted to say it. 

“Aragorn, you have not fallen out of love with me, have you?” It felt stupid of her to even say it aloud, but she knew that she’d never have a peace of mind if the question continued to go unasked. Aragorn’s eyes widened at her inquiry. 

“What?” 

“Have you grown bored of me? Or felt like you’ve found someone better?” The Man’s brows furrowed, as if he were still confused. Issa didn’t blame him. 

“What is this about?” He questioned, sounding like he was genuinely at a loss about what she was talking about. Then, it hit him. 

“Is this about Eowyn?” He asked softly, and judging by the way Issa’s eyes closed at the name, the answer was yes. “Issa, you cannot possibly believe that I would leave you for a woman I met not four days ago.” The girl merely shrugged, too ashamed to look him in the eyes like she could tell he so desperately wanted. 

“It is not completely without reason.” 

“It is though,” he retorted. “I do not love Eowyn. In fact, I barely know her. Meanwhile you have with me something that she and I do not have: history.” 

“Having history together does not equal having a future together,” she responded, crossing her arms. 

“It does to me. You are the only one I have fallen in love with, and you will be the one I stay in love with. Eowyn is nothing more than an acquaintance to me. The most we will ever be is friends. And that is it. I love you, Issa. And I feel ashamed that I have caused you to cast doubts in your mind about it.” The girl sighed softly. 

“I should be ashamed for feeling this way when you have so much on your plate,” she muttered, lifting her right hand to rest the index, middle and ring fingers on her temple. 

“You are still allowed to feel, Issa,” he said softly, removing her hand from her temple and lifting it to his lips. “I’m afraid I haven’t been as transparent with her about us as I should be, but I did not know it was upsetting you. I wish you would have told me the second you began feeling this way.” 

“I thought that it would go away,” she admitted quietly. “But then I saw the way Eowyn looked at you when you were eating that gods awful stew and I grew uneasy.” Aragorn couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Issa knew that what she said was funny so a smile formed on her face, but she still smacked his arm. 

“I’m being serious, Aragorn,” she said, trying (and failing) to suppress a laugh. “Eowyn looked at you like you’d hung the stars.”

“The way you look at me is all I care about,” he responded simply, taking both of her hands in his. 

“And how would you like me to look at you?”

“Like I am the love of your life,” he answered, voice growing soft when their eyes met each other. An adoring smile appeared on Issa’s face as she stepped forward and closed the space between them. 

“I think I can manage that,” she whispered. With that, their lips met halfway in a kiss that took Issa’s breath away despite being a soft kiss. They were only forced to pull away when they heard Legolas call their names in search of them, likely to help the people of Rohan prepare for the battle ahead. 

“Come on,” Aragorn whispered, a boyish grin on his face. “We can finish this when we win the battle.” With that, he took her hand and led her away. Issa followed willingly, though his words echoed in her mind. The chance of them actually winning this was slim to none, but as long as Aragorn believed it, so would she.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

📓 about gríma if possible--you write him with so much depth and affection!

aww thank you so much, that's very much something I needed to hear today so thank you!

I believe I might have mentioned this one before, but it's very much a fic/plotline I think about a lot.

Title: Guilty Remnant

Plot: An AU where Sauron is semi-successful. He breaks Denethor/Gondor's defenses and swoops up from the south while his forces that were moving north succeed in defeating the Dale and Lonely Mountain defenses after which they swoop south clinching the defeat of Rohan who is essentially sandwiched.

However! All is not lost, Frodo and Sam haven't been taken captive and Sauron remains without the ring. There is hope for our heroes as Sauron's victory so far is just militarily - not a full and complete deal.

Leaders of the free peoples go into hiding (Aragorn, Gandalf, Boromir [alive always], Legolas, Gimli, Faramir etc. etc.) in order to re-coop and figure out next steps.

During the taking of Rohan, Theoden and Eowyn manage to flee to join the others. Eomer (and Eothain and Erkenbrand) gets stuck behind enemy lines because of where they were positioned militarily during the war and its many battles. In addition, Eomer was super reluctant about leaving his people and so waited too late to get out of dodge (not unlike his father, but without the death part).

Now, keep in mind that Sauron knows that Saruman sought to steal the ring from him and so he isn't too keen on keeping him around. At the moment, the Witchking is doing micro-managing of Saruman to ensure Good Behaviour but the wizard is on thin fucking ice. 

Queue Grima.

Who has slid his little snakey self onto the throne. Now that he is king, he's suddenly feeling a good deal less attached to doing whatever Saruman (et al) tell him to do. There's a sense of independence and the realization that he finally gets to run things how he wants to - or has the potential to if only Sauron and Saruman were less oppressive.

Eomer, who was captured, Grima manages to secure his freedom in return for good behaviour and being a sort of symbolic representation of a vague sense of quasi-approval/legitimacy for his reign. Eomer has agreed to this because he and Eothain and Erkenbrand figure that whatever information they can glean from Grima and his cronies can be secretly siphon off to Theoden, Eowyn and everyone else in hiding to help them with their plans.

There's a lot of politicking between Edoras, Isengard and Barad-Dur on who runs what parts of Rohan and who holds which titles. Saruman wants his personal henchman in top tier positions of the marshalate, Grima wants his own people and Sauron wants his cronies in. It gets messy. Also there’s a lot of tension and possible reprisals to different parties because of the aforementioned Sauron knowing about Saruman’s attempts to undermine him. 

The thing is, Eomer was a good Third Marshal and knew how to run things effectively and efficiently and Grima loves efficiencies. So Grima has Eomer doing sort-of quasi-acting role as Third Marshal in the background while publicly, of course, it's supposed to be one of Sauron's henchmen in that position.

This means that they end up forming a sort-of functioning work relationship. Grima trusts no one, but there are fundamental truths about Eomer he knows he can rely on and that ends up helping the foundations of their ability to work together form. It's the same in reverse, only Grima's reliable qualities aren't always good ones. Eomer just knows he can trust Grima to react/respond to situations in a certain way, depending on the inputs.

Anyway, they somehow make it work. More from necessity than anything else. A sort of "enemy of my enemy" deal with the devil at the crossroads.

Meanwhile, Theoden, Eowyn, Aragorn etc. etc. have managed to re-coop themselves and begin a successful slow retaking of Gondor with the intention of moving upward into Rohan. Which means Grima is forced to make some Hard Decisions and to maybe develop a single moral. Possibly even two.

It ends happily enough for all involved as I am a sucker for happy(ish) endings (for a given value of happy). There are several possible outcomes for how things wind up in the end and I alternate between them in my head. One where Grima manages to stick it out as king, the other is there's a bit of switcharoo with Eomer, and there's another where Theoden comes back in.

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It is essentially a long exploration of leadership, what it means to hold power, the idea of Necessary v. Good, the fact that there are no "ends and means" only means because ends don't truly exist, and what are the necessary elements that need to be present to effect true change in a person.

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Apologies for the very long write up! This is just a fully plotted monstrosity of a fic that I am always tinkering with in my head and would love to one day write but likely never will (though tbf, never say never).

Thank you again for the very very lovely ask and the warm compliment! I always hope I write all my characters with depth and affection, it is what is their due (and the reader's due) after all. So it was a lovely thing to hear. Thank you!