#to Eowyn saved him

[torchwood-99]

I feel like the moral of Eowyn's and Pearl Took's story is that it is inadvisable for one family member to be singularly responsible for the caretaking of another.

[afaramir]

isnt it insane that merry and pippin spent like the span of weeks apart in different countries and immediately made new besties whose lives they save in their final battles. like merry strikes the blow on the witch king that lets eowyn kill him and pippin pulls faramir out of denethor's pyre. and then eowyn and faramir ended up marrying each other. isn't that wild. were merry and pippin conspiring in the houses of healing like hey i think my new best friend would be great with your new best friend how quickly do you think we can get them to fall in love. was there great hobbit cacophony when faramir kisses eowyn on the ramparts. i think yes.

[shirefantasies]

hii! love your writings, I was wondering if you could do a reader x fellowship (plus eowyn and arwen) where reader is usually seen in armor and unkempt garments + dirty hair but then one day they show up (probably for an event) in beautiful fancy clothes, hair did and everything? Thanks!!!!

scREAMS I LOVE THIS YES. Warning: minor blood mention in two

LoTR Characters Seeing You Dressed Up For the First Time

Aragorn

Both of you had only borne witness to the other in times of battle and survival, not exactly the most formal of circumstances, but such had never even occurred to you until the night of celebration in Rohan. King Theoden invited you to the company of his family, offering his niece or nephew to take you to a bathhouse and present you with a new outfit. Aragorn turned your way the moment you stepped out, eyes positively glowing with reverent awe focused entirely on your form, your smile as your gazes met. He said nothing, simply drew closer until you could feel his warmth upon you. "The people of Rohan have been good to us," he said. "Yes," you agreed with a nod, "I wish we can give as much back. But perhaps we should start by enjoying their hospitality, hm?” “Indeed. Let us keep this night for ourselves. I fear if I stray too far, though, I may get lost in you.” “Don’t worry,” you whispered, lips quirking upward as you pulled Aragorn into the fray of dancers, “I’ll be here to pull you back, too.”

Legolas

Legolas managed to seem dressed up in nearly anything he wore, a feat you certainly envied! Your travels left you feeling like a drowned rat half the time or else just dirty and bedraggled. When the elves of Lothlórien offered you housing, bathing, even food and dancing for two nights, no had fled your vocabulary entirely. Taking their hands, you were swept off into a river of luxury, emerging clean and smiling and draped in the finest fabrics. An elf on either side, you made your way down to the lower flet upon which your hospitality lie, the way Legolas turned his head not once but twice unable to escape your notice. "What?" You teased, aware at least of his shock to see you clad so differently. "You didn't know what I looked like beneath my helmet?" "I didn't know you looked so nice beneath it," He conceded with a smile, stepping closer, "Perhaps we ought not to return it after this night."

Boromir

Had someone asked him, Boromir would never have said he wanted someone with blood under their nails and sword in hand. That was him, that was his job. And yet he felt something different when he clapped a hand to your shoulder after you saved him in combat. When you emerged at the party dressed up, though? His heart swelled five sizes. He should have known- you could do anything. “Putting everyone to shame here, aren’t we?” “What do you mean?” You asked, gaze flitting deliciously down to the hand Boromir laud upon your shoulder, all but challenging him. Accepting it, he rested the other on your hip, urging you out into a dance. “Looking better than them in both mail and finery.” “I suppose I’m just lucky.” “No, I am,” Boromir shot back, “For I am the one who gets to have you in my arms.”

Gimli

To use Gimli's words, around each other you two tend to remain "fully armed and filthy". It is Lord Elrond, of course, who offers an alternative state upon your entry to his homely-house, granting you the reprieve of your first bath in far too many days and even a new outfit. Elvish craftsmanship was like nothing else, delicately embroidered and soft and light unlike anything that has ever graced your skin. Reactions were something you hadn’t considered in the slightest, but as soon as you emerged you found yourself giggling at Gimli’s parted lips and removal of his helmet as if in some reverence you had not earned. “Now this,” he nodded with a smile of approval as he swept an arm over your entire form, “This is the one thing the elves have gotten right.”

Frodo

The tailors’ shop was busy this morning. Bilbo needed a new set of threads to replace some tugged-off buttons, but every working hobbit was rushing around before Frodo could even ask if they had a spool of forest green to spare. What were they- “Frodo!” He would recognize that voice anywhere. Turning, he caught sight of you in the middle of a fitting, the tailors having been flitting about your form as they worked on quite a fine outfit for you. “What do you think?” Spinning around and then striking a joking pose, you fixed him right in the eyes, and it was like an arrow struck him, taking the very breath from his lungs. Finally Frodo’s sense and words returned to him, bringing a smile to his lips. “It’s perfect.”

Sam

You had worked with Sam plenty of times in the gardens, so he had seen you countless times in things like overalls or pinafores or aprons and thought you looked fit for any king and castle. But then came Fatty Bolger’s birthday party, a bash all his friends were invited to…and plenty of other hobbits would find themselves at anyway. One such was you, and knowing you’d be dancing you got cleaned up quite nice, standing at the edges of the lantern-hung floor hoping you might be noticed. And noticed you were, for you caught Samwise Gamgee as he controlled his gaping expression and shook his head out before he approached you, asking if you’d honor him with a dance.

Merry

Gimli was teasing you as Merry entered the room, feeling his heart shoot into his throat at a mere glimpse. He caught a few spare words from the dwarf, including him asking you if you had someone you’d like to impress. “Hush,” you chastised him, “What if he hears you?” At that, Merry couldn’t resist stepping forward. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress,” he told you, eyes full of wonder, “But he’s an absolute fool if it doesn’t work.” “You really think so?” Your tone, your hopeful look, those beautiful eyes Merry could drown in. “I know so.” “Well,” you glanced away, “That’s good. Very good, since it was you.”

Pippin

Tired and bedraggled, you all but fell into the arms of the elves of Lothlórien, blissfully bathing and shyly accepting the fine garb they offered you. Tugging it into place, you emerged through the doorway, unaware the rest of your fellowship waited beyond the threshold. Soon as his eyes fell upon you, Pippin's jaw dropped, his lips slowly curling upward into a wide smile that had you mirroring it, gaze dropping from his. “Wow," Pippin breathed as you drew closer still, hands hovering in front of him in the space between your bodies, "You- you look- Wow. They’ve certainly given you a fine…wow.”

Faramir

On the battlefield you had fought side by side, faces obscured by steel and focus. Soldiers from two armies melded as one. Yet here you were simply citizens, representatives of your people. Diplomats even on the dance floor. All thoughts of such relations fled from Faramir’s mind, though, as your form filled his vision. “Never did I think I would be granted such a moment as this,” he confessed as you took his hand and gripped about his neck, body swaying against his.

Eomer

Theoden, Rohan's king, was giving a celebration all were to attend. Something of a victory revel, but you must confess that you just looked forward to the dancing. Stuffy as it may have been, it was also quite fun donning a nice outfit, your reflection beaming back at you. The expression carried on all the way into the great hall, shining into the hanging lights. You caught sight of a head turning the moment you emerged. A golden head. Eomer. With a wave, he dismissed the man he spoke to- a fellow soldier, you presumed- and strode before you. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" "To the same thing everyone else does, I suppose," you teased in response, "This revel." "Well, remind me to thank my uncle later," Eomer replied with a wide smile, extending a hand in a clear invitation to dance as his eyes traveled up and down over your form, "Shall we?"

Eowyn

She had worn a smile of surprise when you even removed your helmet for the first time in her presence, let alone donning your finest. When it came time for a celebration with her people, a far different garb hung from your body, all in gorgeous fabrics and colors perfectly complimenting your own hues. As soon as you stepped into the light of Rohan's hall, Eowyn positively grinned, her eyes of soft blue alight. Taking up a cup from the table by which she stood, she crossed over to stand before you and offer you a drink, which you accepted. "The garb of Rohan suits you perfectly," she complimented, "Do you plan on dancing?" It was worth seeing the progression of shock and speechlessness melting back into a grin when you extended a hand and replied, "If you will have me."

Haldir

Working side by side meant seeing each other in some of the worst moments, sleeves slashed and blood seeping from wounds. Armor caked with dirt and quivering devoid of arrows. Body carried to healers with reddening bandages hastily tied around limbs. And yet this, this is what shocks him. Haldir’s breath is utterly stolen, not of concern or fear this time, but in the manner of one first seeing the falling stars. “Stay still,” he breathes, almost pleading, “Let me take you in for a moment.”

Galadriel

You were a warrior by profession. In a way, at least. One such that mail was your garb far more often than any dress or robe. Thus, when you made to visit the elves of Lothlórien, you were shocked to see the fine things they'd lain out for you, pulled gently onto your body as if you deserved servants. In fact you had tried to protest, but they had simply smiled and shook their heads as fine jewels were hung about your neck. That you had earned an audience with the Lady Galadriel, was a testament to your service you would not soon take for granted. Thus, as you stood before them, you made first to lower yourself in reverence. Before you could fully adopt your posture, though, you felt the grip of a soft hand beneath your chin gently pulling you back up. Soon you were raised to meet Galadriel's eyes. "You need not bow to me. I confess I wished very much to see you like this. Come with me, if you please."

Elrond

Some might say the Lord of Rivendell should not look upon a soldier such as he did. Some of those same voices might have spoken up of the love of man and elf that had brought forth his ancestors. Not that he would not have understood. Yet as it was every time you removed your helmet something stirred in Elrond that had not done so for some years. And then one night came the celebration, a festival to which all in his counsel were invited, you included. It was that very night, in fact, that he realized how little he had seen of you outside the patrols you took together, and the same in which he would confess to you how he felt beneath the moonlight, finally spilling forth every word of your beauty you deserved.

Arwen

Had you asked her, she would have thought not at all of your dress. Your heart was what she loved, the way you cared and the way you smiled whenever you looked upon someone dear to you. Yet the day of her birthday, you draped yourself in your very finest, emerging in the view of an Arwen who could not bear tearing her eyes off of you. Grinning her beautiful grin, the elf took your hand and immediately twirled you, viewing you from every angle with her expression never faltering. “You look amazing,” she told you, "For a moment, I thought I was dreaming."

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[velvet4510]

Just think of how many times Faramir must’ve drawn attention to the fact that it was his wife who took down the Witch-king of Angmar. He never left a room until he was certain that its occupants knew and respected his wife for what she did. He was just the proudest husband in all of Middle-Earth.

He heard someone on the street telling the story of the great siege of Gondor. He stayed silent through all the parts with him in it. But when it got to the part where the Witch-king was finally killed, he interrupted the story to say to the listeners, “That was my wife. My wife did that. She did that and then she chose me, of all men.”

He told the story himself to their children and made sure they knew and remembered, “That was your mother. Your mother did that.”

He heard his adult children tell the story to their own children in his later years and called out from his lounge chair in front of the fireplace, “Your grandmother did that.”

He read Pippin’s copy of the Red Book that he brought to Gondor, skipped ahead to that part, pointed at the page, and said, no matter if he was with someone or alone in the room, “I’m married to that woman.”

And every time this happened, when they were in their prime, and when they were old and wrinkled, Eowyn always blushed the same blush and said “will you ever shut up about that and let me brag about how my husband resisted the Ring and saved the world?” And Faramir always kissed her and replied, “Never.” It was the only request he ever denied her.

[i-wear-sunglasses-inside]

I have had one (1) Meriadoc Brandybuck on my brain since finishing the lotr trilogy weeks ago.

Merry, who was always watching after his fellow hobbits and who embodied the comfort of home for soldiers who were jaded and scared to death as they rode across the country to a near-hopeless battle

Merry, who was told time and again to stay back, go home, leave the horrors of war to the big people, but who stubbornly went forth into danger not because he felt up to the challenge or believed he was cornered into the choice, but because he knew he couldn’t live with himself if he let his friends go to their deaths or glories without him

Merry, who stabbed the witch king of Angmar to save Eowyn even as he was near-paralyzed with fear and despair

Merry, who came back to the Shire and took the lead in the removal of Saruman’s men but still listened to Frodo’s counsel and was never unnecessarily cruel or violent, only protective of his people

His character arc is just so good and I don’t understand how anyone could read these books and not love him to absolute pieces.

[minaturefics]

There Will Be Time

Request: I have a request for Boromir x reader! (My favorite of yours is "Anything But This"). What if Boromir survived the Uruk-Hai ambush by getting pierced by just one arrow, was saved by Aragorn and helps pursue the orcs to save Merry and Pippin? He still carries the wound of the arrow and the guilt of attacking Frodo, but his internal and external wounds begin to heal by falling in love with a shield-maiden of the Rohirrim.

A/N: Thank you for waiting! I actually wrote part of this before my hiatus and finished it recently so hopefully it doesn't feel too disjointed!

Boromir x Reader

Fem reader

Content warnings: Vague mention of battlefield carnage

3.9k words

---

It was day but the sky was dim and overcast and tinged with an ominous red that bled from the horizon. The clamour and chaos from the city and the citadel seeped through the walls of the Houses of Healing, and even the matrons and patients were restless with the mustering of the army. You paused by an archway, staring out at the plains, still dotted with blood and bodies, and looked to the horizon. In a day or two, the people will march. And the fate of Middle Earth would be determined. 

You carried on along the corridor, cradling your bandaged arm, wishing you had accepted the healers’ suggestion of a sling, and searched for Eowyn. It had been a terrible day in Dunharrow when you realised she had gone off with the army. Your princess, your future queen, but more than that, a friend, a sister almost. You had ridden after them, arriving just in time for the battle, and your heart had shattered when you heard Eomer’s cry of anguish on the field. 

You rounded a corner, eyes still half-focused on the horizon, and collided with someone. Pain flared in your arm and you hissed. The other person let out a pained groan and a sharp exhale. Righting yourself, you looked up at them and saw a familiar face.

“Boromir?”

He looked better than he did the past week, laid up in bed, pale and delirious with fever and infection from the arrow wound in his shoulder. It seemed that the matrons finally allowed him out of bed and granted him a bath, for his hair was damp and his beard was trimmed. Colour was coming back to his face and he looked more like the strong man you saw a few months back when he had stopped by Edoras to borrow a horse. 

“My lady,” he said, astonished. “My apologies, I was not watching where I was going.”

“I am equally at fault. I was distracted by the sky.” He nodded, understanding. “I was looking for Eowyn, have you seen her?”

He chuckled a little, the smile softening his face to something cheeky and boyish. “She is with my brother. The last I saw of them they were talking on one of the balconies. I think it is best we leave them undisturbed.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed.” He grinned. “Though, if you are in need of some company I will happily volunteer my own.”

Your acquaintance with Boromir was still a fresh one; he had not come with his companions to Edoras and instead had gone ahead to Minas Tirith. It was visible to anyone that Faramir had some amount of admiration and interest in Eowyn, but it puzzled you why Boromir always seemed to come along to the rooms where you and Eowyn were staying when Faramir visited. And when Faramir and Eowyn were lost in their own conversation, you would speak to Boromir.

Seeing him up close and at length, it was easy to believe the stories of bravery and valour about him that spread to Rohan. He spoke with a sureness and an authority, logical and bold with his opinions. But of course, none of the stories mentioned how quick to laugh he was and how freely smiles came to him, and of course, there was no mention of the endearing  avuncular fondness he seemed to have for the hobbits.

 Still, there was a grimness to him, a darkness that seemed to pass in his eyes every once in a while, his expression turning from elated to guilty when he spoke of the halflings, particularly Frodo and Sam.

Was there something there? He had said that the fellowship had become separated when the Uruk-Hai attacked, but he always omitted the reason for the separation, or what drove Frodo and Sam to be foolhardy as to continue on the quest alone.

“My lady?” Boromir said, a frown forming on his face. 

“Forgive me, I have been lost in thought,” you said. “Your company would be delightful.”  He offered you a fleeting smile and the both of you drifted towards one of the small balconies overlooking the fields. You rested your arms on the cool bannister and gazed out at the carnage. 

“I wish I could go with the soldiers to The Black Gate,” you murmured. “I feel guilty that I am unable to fulfil my duty to my people.”

“I understand what you mean,” he said, voice low. “To have my father so recently gone, and Faramir and I here… It feels as though the House of the Steward is shirking its duty.”

“But you have done your duty — shepherding the ringbearer, travelling by yourself from Rohan to Minas Tirith, wounded, to warn your people. But me?” You could not help the note of bitterness that seeped into your voice. “I did not fight at Helm's Deep, I left my people at Dunharrow, arrived just in time to join the battle here and still managed to wound myself and fail to defend my lady Eowyn.” 

“I would tell you not to be so harsh on yourself, but I think it would be hypocritical of me.” He gave you a wry smile before his face grew serious again. “Though, my time away from my city and the hours I have spent alone here in bed have made me question how I value pride and valour and duty. It has made me wonder how easily the pursuit of such things may warp one’s actions.”

You eyed him, curious but cautious. The red light on the horizon only served to highlight his handsome features. The line from his brow to his nose was strong, and his chin was lifted, still proud and noble even in such dire circumstances. And his eyes, all grey and cold steel, were burning with intensity. 

Would it be better to be tactful? Or would directness be best with a man like Boromir? 

“Did something occur on your quest?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light. “Such thoughts rarely arise without some sort of event to drive them.”

He paused and looked at you, his gaze hardening then softening. He let out a long breath and shook his head. “You must forgive me. You have been frank with your… perceived failings, but I fear I am still too proud of a man to admit my own. Perhaps in time I will forgive myself enough to share my shame.”

You nodded slowly. “I hope when the time comes you will find in me a good enough friend to speak of such things. Sometime in… the future.”

“Ah yes, the future. Here on the cusp of destruction, can we even speak of such things?”

“I must confess, I have lived so long in the shadow of the Enemy, I am uncertain what I shall do with myself once it is all over.” You sighed, wistful. “My family rares and cares for the horses that the Rohirrim ride on — it is how Eowyn and I met as children — I was to carry on the tradition but… More swords were needed, and I felt a need to stand by and protect Eowyn while she was still restrained by the trappings of her position.”

He hummed. “I am the same as you — I do not know what I shall do once we have victory and peace. I suppose either my brother or I will take up the mantle of Steward. Faramir is far more suited than I am, so I’ll have to find some way to occupy myself.” He grinned. “Maybe I shall take up smithing or music or… weaving.”

You laughed, lightness slowly filling your chest. “All those things require patience, Boromir. Are you sure you have enough supply of it?”

He chuckled. “We will have to see. I have not had much time in my life to explore what else I may pursue and enjoy.”

“I am the same. Maybe I will join you in your smithing or music or weaving.” 

Another laugh burst from him and suddenly he looked young and boyish, his head thrown back, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and your heart leapt from your chest. You turned away from the horizon and looked towards the comforting warm light of the torches. “We should make a list.”

“A list?”

“Yes, to ensure we have a good variety of activities to try. At the very least, it would serve as a distraction for the time being.”

“Very well.” He gestured towards the corridor, a wide smile on his face. “Lead on, my lady.”

-

Boromir frowned at the paper flower in his hand. The binding’s tension was uneven and the delicate paper was mangled and creased. Merry and Pippin had somehow convinced him to help them make decorative flowers in preparation for Aragorn’s coronation. The hobbits had shyly offered to create something for the high table, and Aragorn, forever fond of his little friends, had given them free reign. 

He sighed and tossed the ruined flower off to the side. 

You came through the archway and into the little alcove the hobbits had commandeered and smiled at him in greeting.

You were dressed in a set of borrowed clothes and your hair was done up in a simple braid. The Gondorian cut and style complemented your figure, and you stood strong and healthy and radiant. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, before he looked back down at the table. You were not for him, never for him. If you knew the depths of his treachery, there was no doubt you would scorn him.

The last couple of weeks were spent in a wild fervour. Between managing the city with Faramir, he had attempted the activities on the list he shared with you. You had excelled in the wood carving, your little bear more detailed and fine than his, but he had bested you at the loom, his piece of fabric coming out more smooth and even than yours. Pottery, painting, gardening, juggling, needlework — the both of you attempted whatever your injuries allowed.

He adored the way you looked when you were concentrating. Your eyes were downcast and focused, your brow just slightly knitted, and you had this endearing habit of tilting your head just so when something vexed you. Each time he met with you, he searched for ways to elicit your smile, fumbled with something just to get you to laugh, even at his own expense. What a privilege it was to see the respected and stalwart shield-maiden soften and melt. It was even more of a privilege to watch you with the horses.

The old stable master had taken to you instantly, curious and interested in what you had to say about the care and rearing of horses, and nearly every morning you had gone down to the stables to check on the animals. He had watched as you taught the shy stableboys how to braid the horses manes, your deft fingers working the strands, and listened as you told them what sort of grains and seed were best for the foals.

You seemed to come alive in the stables, eyes bright and smiles brighter. Was this what you looked like unburdened by duty and responsibility? Was this what you could become, always?

The stablemaster was old, due to retire, and perhaps…

He shoved the thought out of his mind. 

You were friendly enough with him, playful and affectionate with your comments sometimes, but if you knew the truth… How could someone like you, loyal and strong, look past his mistake with Frodo? No. It was better to keep you at arms length, as a friend. Whatever disappointment you felt with him would be more tolerable.

“Having trouble?” you asked, plucking the ruined flower from the table and holding it up to the light. 

“You are welcome to give them an attempt if you wish,” he said, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. “Valar knows we’ll need more hands if we are to finish these. I can teach you.”

You slid into the chair and watched as he moved through the steps. The flower looked better than its previous counterpart but it still looked a little wrong somehow. “Where are Merry and Pippin?” you asked, taking a sheet and mimicking his steps, folding the paper and trimming the edges.

“They have gone to visit Frodo and Sam.”

“And you did not follow?”

He shook his head and kept his eyes fixed on the sheet of paper. In truth, he had already gone to see Frodo. There, in the quiet and privacy of Frodo’s room, Boromir had wept and fallen to his knees, asking, nearly begging, for forgiveness. Frodo’s eyes, so wide and expressive, had softened and watered. He clasped Boromir’s hand, bid him to rise, and gave his forgiveness right then and there. 

But how could it be so simple? So easy? Was there not some sort of trial, some sort of penance, that he must perform to earn such forgiveness? 

You let out a little gasp of delight and presented your flower to him. It was beautiful and well formed, the petals fanned and splayed, the perfect facsimile of a blooming flower. “You know,” you said with a smile. “This is probably one of the more agreeable activities we have done.”

He wished he could spar with you, to connect with you in the mutual language of battle,  but alas, your injuries and his were still healing. He rolled his shoulder, the muscle still stiff and sore from the wound, and grimaced.

“It is still not healing well?” you asked, lowering your flower.

“The infection from before did more damage than previously thought. It is healing, just slowly, the matrons assured me.”

“Merry and Pippin told me how you faced the Uruk-Hai by yourself. Truly, a remarkably brave act.”

He deflated a little in his chair, thumbing the edge of the thin paper. “Bravery did not enter into my mind at that time. I thought only of my friends who, at that time, were neither ranger or soldier.” 

“Still, it was a brave act.”

“Brave… but not strong.”

“Boromir,” you said, exasperated. “The fact that you are still alive now is testament to your strength.”

“It is not the strength of body I am speaking of but rather the strength of will.” He shook his head and forced a smile onto his face. “What am I speaking about? These are merry times and happy days — we should not dwell on such ill things of the past.”

You paused, eyeing him. “Just as our bodies sometimes fail us, so do our minds. In Rohan, we learn in our training that it does us no good to fault and blame our bodies when they cannot perform as we wish — it simply gets in the way of learning, and more importantly, healing — it would seem remiss to not extend that same grace to our minds.”

Grace. Forgiveness. Gentleness. He had never been able to afford such luxuries, not ever since his mother died and he and Faramir had to grow up all too fast in the shadow of Mordor. Faramir seemed to be easing into the position of Steward comfortably, looking far more at home in the office than he did in the barracks, and even Eowyn was getting on well in the Houses of Healing. 

People were… moving on. Or at the very least, trying to. 

He picked up a sheet of paper and began folding it, binding the middle and trimming the ends. He started to unravel the petals but only managed to put his thumb through it.

 Could he move on as well? Was he allowed to?

“Here, like this,” you murmured and reached over. “Slowly. Gently.”

You guided his fingers, and right in his hands, his flower bloomed.

-

Early morning light glowed through the open ends of the stables. The air was warm and musky and you inhaled, relaxing into the familiar scent of horse and hay. The stableboys were yet to turn up for the day and you took your time greeting the horses individually. One of your favourites, a beautiful black steed with a glossy coat, nudged your outstretched hand and dipped its head while you stroked it affectionately. 

There seemed no end to the post-war celebrations with the coronation beginning a stream of parties and dinners, lunches and teas, but finally after nearly two weeks, the city was blessedly calm. You pressed your forehead to the cheek of the horse and sighed. He was warm and solid, grounded and real. The days and nights had passed like a dream. Boromir, smiling at you over the rim of his mug. Boromir, meeting your glances across the room. Boromir, taking you into his arms, your bodies moving in sync with the music.

He had been so close, so warm. His smell, salt and cedar, enveloped you. You had looked up into his eyes, the candlelight flickering in them, and nearly leaned in.

The horse snorted and you stepped back. What were you thinking? There was no time for such things. You were still yet to find yourself in this new world of peace, King Theoden still needed to be buried and mourned. Eowyn would return to Minas Tirith in due time — Faramir had all but formally proposed, waiting for the mourning period to be over — but what about you? 

Eomer had assured you that if you wished to return to Rohan there would be a place for you as part of the personal guard but was that something you even wished for yourself? 

Minas Tirith had grown on you. The bustle of the morning markets, the distant bell that tolled every hour, the ivy covered walls, the polished marble. Boromir had even promised to take you to Dol Amroth to see the ocean one day. And Eowyn would be here in Gondor.

It had been so lovely working with the horses and the stableboys, your muscles remembering the things you had been taught as a child. It felt like some part of you, long dormant, was finally waking up. The stable master had mentioned that he was planning on retiring soon. Perhaps you could speak to Boromir and Faramir about filling the post. 

You hummed to yourself. With Boromir retaining his position as Captain of Gondor, there was something deeply satisfying about the thought of caring for the steeds he and his men would ride on. 

“My lady?”

You turned and found Boromir standing by the entrance of the stable. He was in his casual tunic and trousers, and his hair was lightly tousled. Boromir looked the best liked this, just slightly dishevelled, loose and relaxed. 

“Good morning,” you said. “It’s early, even for you.”

“I wished to speak with you. You and Eowyn will be heading back to Rohan in a few days and I wanted to discuss something with you before you left.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Very well. Let us speak outside.”

He nodded and the both of you made your way out to a small open balcony that overlooked the rest of the circles. The air was warm and balmy and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted on the breeze. Boromir stood beside you and surveyed the city. 

“I never thought I would see the day where there was no shadow on the horizon, that my people would wake and live in peace.”

“Yes,” you murmured. “There is change in the air, a renewal. It is quite exciting to witness.”

“Speaking of change…” He turned to face you. “I am sure you are well aware that our stable master is thinking of retiring. Faramir and I have been discussing and we were wondering if you would be open to fulfilling the position.” He glanced away then back at you. “You and I will be working with each other, of course, with regards to the Calvary. Before you accept, there is something… something I wish for you to know.”

His eyes swept down and his jaw tensed. “Go on, my friend,” you said gently. 

“The Ring… I had tried to take it from Frodo. He had gone off to think and I had followed him. In my weakness, I —” He swallowed. “That was why he had continued on alone with Sam.”

You had suspected as much, gleaned from his various comments and the way he would both keep his distance from Frodo but be overly courteous in his presence. “The Ring had tempted many over the years. I do not think any less of you. And… this may be presumptuous, but knowing you, I suspect you were motivated out of love for your city and your people rather than any personal gain.”

He exhaled, short and sharp, and a wry smile crossed his face. “You know me too well.”

You shrugged. “We are friends, are we not? Friends and —”

You snapped your mouth shut and looked away. What were you going to say? ‘More’? How foolish. The man had just offered you a job, for Valar’s sake. He was a friend. A friend.

“And?”

You hazarded a look at him. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted in disbelief. Was it possible that…? 

“I… I do not know,” you muttered, and he deflated a little. His mild disappointment emboldened you and you continued. “Sometimes, I think I see more in your eyes, but I can never be sure.”

“You are not mistaken,” he said, straightening his shoulders and meeting your eyes. Your heart sped up and hope sparked in your chest. “But I do not wish for this to sway your decision in accepting the position. I —”

“Either way, I would accept. I do accept.” You smiled. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to oversee and care for the steeds of Gondor. Except, perhaps,” you added softly, “being able to be by your side.”

A smile broke out on his face, open and unguarded, and the years fell away from him. He offered his hand, palm up, and you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Faramir has always berated me for my lack of romantic tendencies and I always dismissed him. For the first time, I wish I had paid more attention in my poetry classes.”

“I do not need to be wooed with poetry and flowery words, Boromir.” You laughed and he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “Besides, it is not our way.”

“What is the Rohirric way?”

“Sometimes courting couples braid the manes of each other’s horses, weaving in their family’s colours or tokens. Wealthier families exchange horses to show that their horses are healthy and well-trained, that they can be trusted with the care of their partner, to carry and support them through life.”

He nodded. “I like that. It is practical and… sweet, in a way. I would offer to give you a horse, but I have just given you a stable full of them I suppose.” You laughed and he shared a smile with you. “In seriousness, I wish to court you properly. I understand that you will have to go back to Rohan, and there are matters to sort out. But when you return to Minas Tirith…”

“Yes. Whatever you wish, yes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Whatever I wish? A dangerous thing to say.”

“I trust you.”

He leaned in and kissed your temple, his warm breath tickling your hair. He smiled against your skin and drew back.

“So yes,” you murmured, grinning. “Whatever you wish.”

___

I really wanted the reader to have some sort of arc/development as well, and not just act as some developmental catalyst for Boromir - I hope that came through.

@mileycyprus-hill

[southfarthing]

Eowyn tells Faramir it isn't necessary to write all of Rohan's songs and legends in a book lest they be forgotten. The Rohirrim do not read and write: they are oral storytellers, and they have great respect for their minstrels and their history. They will not forget anything.

She says it to reassure him and save him the trouble, but it does not seem to soothe his mind.

He smiles quickly at her before turning to the window. He looks out at the hills of Emyn Arnen as though watching for a storm on the horizon, and then Eowyn understands.

She grasps his hand.

At his touch, an image rushes through her mind: a grey, mutinous sea; and among the froth and the fury – sodden books, orphaned heirlooms, and a tapestry that will never again be seen or re-made, with both story and skill lost to the devouring waters.

The water washes over them both before slowly receding, leaving only a mist that she blinks away, and the distant glint of the Anduin to the west as it flows down to the Sea.

'Have I ever told you of Eorl the Young?' she says. Her voice is rough; she clears her throat.

'We know much about Eorl in Gondor,' Faramir says softly. 'His friendship with Cirion and his aid in our time of need was great.'

'And what about after?' she asks. 'What does Gondor know about that?'

Faramir turns to her with a wry smile. 'Very little.'

'Would that you had someone to teach you a little history.'

The mirth in Faramir's eyes mirrors her own.

'Would that I did.'

[ineffectualdemon]

It didn't feel right to add it to the post I just reblogged but one of the many things that sticks with me is that no only is Frodo distinctly NOT a "Chosen One" he instead is the one who chooses his quest despite not really wanting to...but no one else wants him to choose this either

Gandalf, Elrond, Aragorn, his fellow hobbits and so on do not want this small, gentle, already gravely injured hobbit, to take on this dangerous journey that will almost certainly end in death

They see him dying on this quest as the tragedy it should be seen

But once he has made this choice they all also choose to take on the quest with him

They do not try to take it off him. They understand why he made the choice and they know he's right, but they would not have made him go.

Aragorn is the closest thing to a Chosen One and he still had to make the Choice to go on his side quest, but ultimately he did it to help Frodo

Sam and Frodo finish physically carrying the ring to Mount Doom and they absolutely are the heart of the quest. The One Who Chose and the One Who Chose Him

But the others, though seperate and dispersed, are also helping them carrying this burden and aiding their quest

Their moves are calculated and accidental in keeping Sauron's eye away from Frodo

And each time it's a choice

The closest we get to a prophecy is:

1. a dream Boromir or Faramir had (I cant remember which rn. I am sick, haven't been able to sleep, and currently have a mild fever) which only says that a hobbit and the ring are at Elrond's house. Not what to do about that.

2. "No man can kill me" referring to the witch king but that wasn't supposed to be solved by gender fuckery with Eowyn. Gandalf was supposed to do it! He says so! But he chooses to save Faramir and Eowyn and Merry choose to attack and successfully take down the Witch King

Everything that happens. Every heroic and brave and significant happening was not a matter of prophecy or "chosen ones" or "fate"

It was a choice

People choosing to do things they do not want and do not like and cause them to suffer...because they believe they put things right. And they succeed because it's a community, in different parts, doing different things, but all making choices that support their shared goal

And I'm a little feverish but I have a lot of feelings about that rn

[wordbunch]

while watching ROTK a particular sentence hit me harder than ever before and... It can all be narrowed down to that, basically: I know I cant save Middle earth, I just want to help my friends (Merry to Eowyn before battle) and that's really REALLY what it's all about - i mean the fellowship fell apart months before the quest was over but they all just... Kept going!! FOR EACH OTHER!!!! not to be The Hero, but to do what they could FOR THEIR FRIENDS!!! without even knowing if the others were alive FOR MONTHS!!!

GOD i just... That's really what it's all about. Frodo deciding not to burden the others and get rid of the ring alone. Not in order to be a hero, but to protect HIS FRIENDS. Sam going with him TO PROTECT HIS FRIEND. Merry and Pippin not going back to the Shire TO HELP THEIR FRIENDS even though they knew nothing of their whereabouts!!! Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli refusing to abandon THEIR FRIENDS after they disappeared with the orcs!!!

Nobody could have saved middle earth on their own. They just wanted to help their friends. And that meant everything.

[novelmonger]

Some highlights from the Director/Writer Commentary of The Return of the King with Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh:

As they mentioned in TTT, they were originally going to put the Smeagol vs. Deagol fight as a flashback during the Dead Marshes. Before they decided to use it to open RotK, their placeholder idea for a scene to open RotK was to do a sped-up helicopter shot from the Paths of the Dead, across the plains of Edoras, to the Golden Hall where Aragorn wakes up from a nightmare (and then goes and talks to Eowyn). Very glad they went the direction they did!

In the final shot they used when Smeagol takes the Ring out of Deagol's hand, the actor playing Deagol actually blinked, but they liked Andy Serkis' performance so much, they had Weta go in and freeze Deagol's eyes so they could use the shot XD

You know, I forget sometimes that they didn't even have Saruman in the theatrical cut at all. Boggles the mind.

In the scene where Aragorn comes out of the Golden Hall and goes to stand next to Legolas, who's looking out at the night...Viggo and Orlando weren't in the country at the same time, so they shot them separately and then put them together @_@

You know, I never thought about this before, but when Gandalf touches Pippin's face, they had to make sure his hands looked extra big! So they used an actor called Big Paul, who had the biggest hands they could find, and Ian McKellen directed him for how to move his hands in the shot XD And Big Paul is the Rohan guard who gets shoved aside when Merry and Aragorn rush up to the top of the wall to watch Gandalf and Pippin leave!

THEY SHOT A SCENE OF LEGOLAS TALKING TO TREEBEARD ABOUT THE ELVES LEAVING MIDDLE-EARTH?!?!?!?!?!?! :O Originally, it was going to link the Isengard scenes to the scene of Arwen and the other Rivendell Elves going through the forest, but then because of all the Edoras stuff in between, the connection was lost. They also said something about Legolas reciting a poem! And joked again about putting it into the 25th anniversary edition. THAT TIME IS COMING UP, PETER JACKSON!!!! I WANNA SEE THIS SCENE!!!!!!

a;lkdsjs;kdfljds;fjl NOW THEY'RE JUST TEASING US. They talked about a "library scene" during the whole sequence where Arwen goes back to Rivendell and confronts Elrond about how he saw her son, etc. They wouldn't say what happened in the "library scene," but talked about how they should include that in the 25th anniversary edition too. a;ldkfjs;dkfljsd;kfljdslfk

The people on set who had a crush on Sean Bean were called "Beanstalkers"! XD That's the best; every fan to this day ought to call themselves that!

Similarly to the scene with Legolas and Aragorn, the little bit with Legolas and Gimli as everyone's getting ready to leave Edoras was filmed separately because Orlando and John weren't in the country at the same time. So they filmed Legolas' shots with Brett, John's scale double, then filmed John's shots later, filming both of them against greenscreen. Then they took some unused footage from the Edoras set and put it in the background. It just boggles my mind how many of these cobbled-together scenes there are, because it feels so much like all the characters are together in the real location!

RED ALERT RED ALERT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!! They mentioned Beregond!!!! 8D When talking about why they put in the scene where Pippin and Faramir talk (when Faramir says the uniform Pippin's wearing was made for him when he was a child), in order to forge the connection between them that will ultimately lead to Pippin saving Faramir's life, they talked briefly about Beregond! They describe him taking Pippin under his wing, showing him about the city, and called the relationship between them "quite sweet" :3

Another little connection between Pippin and Faramir I don't think I've ever thought about before, that apparently Billy Boyd thought about when doing these scenes, is that Pippin is the only son of the Thain of the Shire, so there may have been a certain amount of pressure and expectation on him. Obviously, he's so young and probably didn't spend too much time worrying about that while scampering about the Shire, but maybe that's something he thinks about while watching the way Faramir and Denethor interact. Maybe a contrast to the way he would interact with his own father, maybe a reminder of the way he would be scolded? Hard to say, but it's interesting to think about.

Uuuuuuughghghg, so frustrating to listen to them talking about the scene on the steps where Frodo sends Sam away DX No matter how many times and how many different ways they explain why they did it, the explanations never quite make sense to me. "We needed there to be more tension." WHY WAS IT NOT TENSE ENOUGH THAT THEY WERE GOING INTO THE LAIR OF A HUGE EVIL SPIDER?! "There wasn't really anything happening on the steps otherwise." YEAH, BECAUSE YOU PUT THE WHOLE CONVERSATION ABOUT STORIES IN THE PREVIOUS MOVIE! Also, why not just cut from one or two shots of them climbing this awful staircase to a shot of them entering the cave? "There needed to be a payoff for Gollum's scheming." WHY WAS GOLLUM BETRAYING THEM TO SHELOB NOT ENOUGH OF A PAYOFF?! "We knew InStInCtIvElY that Frodo needed to enter the cave alone." WHY? WHY?! I've never understood that. They get separated eventually in the book, so why not just ramp up the tension of that in the movie, instead of making the characters so OOC? "We knew it would shock readers of the book, and if we'd changed that, what else might we have changed?" You know...I really, really love these movies, and I appreciate what these three were able to accomplish so much...but sometimes I kind of hate them too -_-

The horses didn't want to walk down the hill on the cobbled streets of Minas Tirith, because their steel shoes were so slippery on the stones. So they all had to be re-shod with rubber shoes. What were horseshoes made of back in ye olden days, though? Iron? Did people run into the same problems back then?

I never really noticed this before, but Aragorn never wears Anduril on his belt! He straps it to his horse, and every time you see him with it, he's just holding the naked blade. This is because they made Anduril so long it was really hard for him to wear it from his belt or to pull it out of the scabbard in a natural way XD

The aerial shot of all the Rohirrim leaving Dunharrow was originally shot to show Gandalf's cart heading into the Shire, but since they didn't use it for that, they repurposed it for RotK!

To get Elijah Wood to foam at the mouth when he's stung by Shelob, they gave him two Alka-Seltzer tablets to put in his mouth and work up some foam with his saliva. I've always wondered how they do that sort of thing in movies, but no one's bothered to explain until now....

Sean Astin's audition scene was holding Frodo after Shelob ;A; Apparently, they (or at least Philippa Boyens) were a little skeptical that an American actor would be able to do Sam's character right, but actually a lot of the English actors who auditioned for the role had a hard time with the Shelob aftermath scene, but Sean nailed it :')

Other than the close-ups, they used a dummy for Faramir on the pyre most of the time. Now I'm just imagining John Noble crouching on top of the pyre, cradling a dummy XD

The first Orc that Aragorn kills on Pelennor fields is played by his son Henry! XD

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME. They actually filmed Sam pushing past the sort of psychic barrier of the Watchers at the gate of Cirith Ungol, but they didn't put it into the extended edition! I love that part. Like...I'm not even sure why, but I've always thought that was such a cool little detail, and I've always been a bit bummed it wasn't in the movie, though I was thrilled to see the actual Watchers at least there as a sort of homage. And all along, they'd actually filmed something for that after all and I never knew! :O

You know, I never thought about it before, but it makes sense that they had to replace the sky digitally in a lot of scenes in Mordor, because of course when they filmed it, the sky wasn't always completely cloudy, but Mordor needs to have a complete cloud cover at all times.

When Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens first saw the footage of Sam carrying Frodo up Mt. Doom, they sent a fax (lolol 1999/2000 technology) to Sean and Elijah. They made the first page look all formal and official, and then on the second page it just said, "You made us cry." :')

Andy Serkis refused to have Gollum stand on two feet until the scene in the Crack of Doom. There were a few times that PJ directed him to lurch onto his feet or something, but Andy wouldn't do it. He wanted to show the difference in Gollum physically when he has the Ring again. What a cool detail!

Originally, the whole part where Frodo's hanging off the ledge and Sam is begging him to reach for him happens after the Ring is destroyed. It's really interesting to consider the slight nuances of how different that would be. The final version makes it almost seem like the Ring is still calling to Frodo, like he wants to fall into the lava and join it, whereas originally it was more like "I've lost the Ring and now I have nothing left to live for."

PJ made a sweet comment in the scene where everyone bows to the four hobbits: "This is a moment where there's always a huge sniffle in the audience when the movie's going, and it's usually me." XD

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! They shot scenes of what happens to the other characters when the hobbits return to the Shire! There is footage out there somewhere of what Legolas and Gimli do, what happens with Faramir and Eowyn!!!! ;aldkfjsd;fkldslfkjd 25th anniversary edition LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

[lesbiansforboromir]

Why you don't like Galadriel?

WELL. I mean this would need a complex answer, for one thing because you could say I don't actually dislike Galadriel as a character really. She's interesting, she has layers, her position in the story creates intriguing mysteries and insights into elven realities and her actions are always percieved in multiple different ways by different characters. She is both an object of world building and a lense to view it through, she had only contempt for Feanor but is the character MOST like him in the end, there's lots going on!

So as usual what I'd say I dislike is more fandom's perception of Galadriel than Galadriel herself, although don't get me wrong in terms of sympathy for her I have none to spare. But to the fandom she's like... well she's whatever anyone wants her to be, so long as that's pretty much perfect and always more right than anyone else around her. Idk if this question came because of my RoP Galadriel tirade post of a week ago, but the fact that people seem to believe Galadriel's right to the 'good guy' role is so irrefutible that it makes any negative portrayal of her 'bad' and 'tolkien's rolling in his grave' etc etc- it's just flabbergasting to me and is a symptom of this problem.

Like Galadriel's entire motive for coming to middle earth, declared and narrated, is to rule over people. She wants to be a Queen of a land that she controls with people inside it whom she has power over. That's it. Now, far be it from me to be on the Valar's side, lord knows I don't support their right to unquestioned rule either and the Eldar's urge to rule themselves is completely valid and Galadriel's no worse than any of her male counterparts who were also looking for the same thing. (In fact, given this is something she is apparently required to 'overcome' when none of those male elves must do the same, I'm inclined to believe this is another of those 'eowyn must reject violence for peace because war is bad except when men do it and for sure the men do continue to do it that's fine' misogynist tolkien moments.)

BUT STILL.. that's not like... a GOOD motive is it? It's neutral at best, right? And Galadriel never actually does anything that could be called more than polite for the rest of the time we know her. She never risks anything for the good of middle earth, she never solves any problems, she goes from place to place to avoid any conflict that threatens her until she and her husband finally decide to usurp a Silvan kingdom and magically isolate it from the rest of the world. They change Lindórinand's name to Lothlorien, thereby overwriting the language of it's native population and Galadriel then uses the power of her ring (that was given to her she didn't make it heself) to EMBALM (tolkien's words) the forest in time just so that she could make it appear as much like Valinor (her home, not the silvan's) as possible. Like!! This is not some paragon of virtue character!

Honestly RoP's portrayal of Galadriel is actually vastly more sympathetic than her actual character. PTSD, survivor's guilt and the maladaptive cope of needing to hunt down evil fanatically for all eternity is, to my mind, 100% more understandable than just... staying in Middle-Earth because she still wanted to rule over people and never believed she did anything wrong in the first place. Which is the canonical reason she's still in middle-earth post the first age, technically a sin by the Valar's standards! Galadriel is rebelling against the will of the west in doing this, but apparently SHE gets all the grace and chances to 'reform' in the world, unlike some other characters I could name >:|

... Maybe she aggravates me a little, but she does so IN COMPARISON to the criticisms other characters must bear as 'the reason they had to die to redeem themselves'. Like if Boromir wanted to take the ring once in order to save his people, is death really the only way to atone for that when Galadriel has been power hungry for 7000 goddamn years nonstop, acquired and used her own ring of power to satisfy that power hunger and then managed to 'overcome it' at the very last minute JUST before middle-earth became 'less elven' (and therefore her position there would be less prestigeous) to demurely sail off home to a gilded cage paradise where literally all her family are alive and waiting for her. Like is 'power hunger' really the sin Boromir comitted here that he needs to die for. Is Tolkien really criticising the desire for power. Is the narrative of lotr really so cohesive and consistent as to allow you to put all the characters into good and bad little boxes and declare those categorisations infallible?

Am I making sense, is this coherent. Does it make more sense if I say like... I do not dislike Galadriel as a character, I dislike what her fandom-reputation reveals about the way the story is engaged with by and large? When I am getting heated about this or that misconception or aspect of her character, it is not because I hate she has that aspect, I like a lot of morally questionable characters, what I am railing against is the double standard that her having that trait reveals. (And I'm not even really angry about it I'm more just very activated by what it reveals about the story, like it makes me feral) The narrative loves Galadriel, Tolkien loves Galadriel, characters regularly threaten violence in order to defend Galadriel from even mild verbal criticism and no one appears to see this as a kind of ominous aspect of her when she's done very little to deserve it. Other than, of course, be ontologically 'pure' and 'divine' due entirely to the circumstances of her birth. I'm a bit manic right now so I hope literally any of that made sense.

Actually addendum example just to further affirm my point. So catholic tolkien scholars will tell you that Denethor's use of the Palantir was a sin, apparently even using a tool you have 'the right' to use to observe reality as it actually exists and then extrapolating that observation into a prediction of the future (ie seeing frodo is captured and the ring gone and extrapolating that the enemy has it and you're all doomed) is a sin. Because only god is allowed to see into the future. And this is somewhat backed up by the way characters treat Denethor's use of the Palantir, it was apparently foolhardy and bad and reckless and nebulously wrong etc. Remember, the Palantir is not a mystical artifact, it is like a satallite imaging tool + a one way video only skype.

.

Galadriel's mirror literally sees the future 😂LIKE? WHY DOES SHE HAVE IT? WHY IS SHE ALLOWED TO USE IT? WHY CAN SHE JUST SHOW IT TO OTHER PEOPLE? It's because she's holy!! But that doesn't mean anything about her actual character, it's just an attribute she inherited from her family and her place of birth that actively changes what her existence means entirely by it's own virtue. Imagine living in this world for a second, imagine if it was ontologically true that you (an unblessed child of eru) would never be as right or as good as Galadriel, no matter what the reality of both your actions were. LIKE. !! WOULD YOU LIKE GALADRIEL?

[torchwood-99]

There's a bit of a role reversal with Faramir and Eowyn, in terms of how their narratives include tropes and plot points that are often traditionally applied to characters of the other sex.

Eowyn goes to war because she refuses to be left behind to be burned inside the house when the battle is done, as is often the fate of women.

Faramir actually is nearly burned alive at the hands of the patriarch of his family when said patriarch believes the battle is over and hope is lost. While Eowyn is out on the battlefield, fighting, Faramir is stuck inside the home, burning.

Between the two, Eowyn is the one we see go on more of an inner journey. She changes more over the narrative, and has to deal more with her own flaws and personal demons, as well as the injustices inflicted upon her. The climax of her story comes with a great moment of heroism and courage in battle. She is rescued by a hobbit, but as an ally in battle, not as a damsel in distress.

Faramir in the books doesn't feel tempted by the ring, and is almost a paragon of virtue. About as much as a Man in Middle Earth can be. He's closer to Arwen and Galadriel than Eowyn is, in his near perfection, in how he inspires and guides others. He is also rescued by a hobbit, but in that moment he is helpless, a damsel in distress. He is rescued because others love him for his virtue and goodness.

So often it's the other way round. Not only is the woman usually the one trapped inside, in need of rescue, while the man is out there fighting, the woman's heroism traditionally comes from the list of virtues she possesses, while the man's heroism comes from his deeds and the things he accomplishes. The man fights, the woman inspires.

But during the Battle of Pelennor fields, it is Eowyn who fights, and while she does inspire Merry, she inspires him not as a paragorn, but as an example of courage that Merry finds himself compelled to live up to. He is inspired to fight by her side, instead of fighting for her.

Faramir is sick and unconscious. His agency is denied him by his father, who decides on his behalf there's nothing left for him to live for. And it is a rush for the heroes; Pippin and Beregond, to save Faramir, and it is explicitly stated that Beregond only broke the law because he was inspired to do so out of his great love for Faramir, which is shared by all. In that moment, Faramir's role is closer to the traditional fairy tale princess, whose goodness inspires the heroes into fighting for her during her peril.

And afterwards, it is Eowyn who has to fight to find meaning in life again, to choose joy and hope over despair, which Faramir, with his loving kindness, wisdom, and gentleness, inspires her to do.

I love that, and love thinking on how that affected their relationship going forward.

Eowyn must have liked that with Faramir, she's not being married to someone who will require her to take on every aspect of the so called "woman's role" (necessary, but limiting) which has been inflicted on her at her own expense by the men in her life, so they can be free to partake in the "man's role". Perhaps in turn, Eowyn's predisposition for more martial pursuits; even if she has embraced healing and gardening and no longer lives for battle, would also mean she can take on some of the certain necessary duties that Faramir finds taxing.

Between the two, there must have been a more equal division of labour and responsibilities, and therefore more freedom on both sides. Neither one of them fully suits the roles that society has assigned to them due to their gender, and in marrying each other, they no longer have to.

[iamfitzwilliamdarcy]

the narrative implies more than once that if not for the madness of Denethor, Gandalf may have saved Theoden

“For a moment, the thought flitted through Merry’s mind: ‘Where is Gandalf? Is he not here? Could he have not saved the king and Eowyn?”

and later-

Pippin comes to Gandalf and tells him he’s afraid Denethor might kill himself and Faramir with him and Gandalf says at first “I must go...the Black Rider is abroad, and he will yet bring ruin on us. I have no time”

Pippin explains further and pleads, “Can’t you save Faramir?” And Gandalf’s response is- “Maybe I can...but if I do, others will die, I fear.” 

And after the Dark Rider has died and he brings Faramir to the Hall of Healing and sees Eowyn, Gandalf says:

“... Things of great sorrow and renown have come to pass. Shall we weep or be glad? Beyond hope the Captain of our foes has been destroyed, and you have learned the echo of his last despair. But he has not gone without woe and bitter lost. And that I might have averted but for the madness of Denethor!” 

[just-an-elf-with-the-socks]

Not that long ago the LotR trilogy was rereleased in theaters for a limited time and I saw them multiple times, three of those being with @ath3alin who watched me take all of these Aralas notes throughout the movies (there’s nothing wrong with canon, it’s just really gay). So I’m gifting them to the internet, you’re welcome.

Fotr:

The scene where Aragorn is singing like a weirdo into space = it was a song that Legolas would sing to him when they were children, and then they would sing it together once Aragorn learned Elvish better. When Frodo asks what woman he sings of, it’s really Legolas, because he misses him

TT:

When the riders of Rohan surround them, the first thing Legolas does is reach for Aragorn so that’s going in a fic at some point

Legolas really just wanted his crush to look cool in literally every moment Aragorn did something he could have done in like two seconds

At least Legolas’ first instinct is to look at Aragorn every time something happens or every time he says something. Like,,this man might as well never be looking anywhere else

“Nobody cares for the woods anymore (That’ll probably be a Thranduil fic somehow, we’ll figure it out)”

I will say, it would be a fun headcanon to have Legolas feel the things the forest does; i.e. their pain, their joy, their sadness. And instead of being weird it’s actually really sweet and Aragorn does find it a bit adorable once he develops feelings for Legolas

Forest scene: Those fuckers are standing ridiculously close to each other. Honestly, I’d like to headcanon that Legolas specifically speaks to Aragorn in Elvish when he’s afraid or nervous

Honestly, Aragorn would be lowkey attracted to the way Legolas absolutely just knocks that guy out with his arm and he doesn’t understand it until later

Let’s be real, Legolas would be so offended when Snake Man smacks Aragorn like that, like “hello, that’s my boyfriend, you’re not my president”

Legolas standing next to Aragorn count: 18

Legolas lowkey being sad not being able to ride beside Aragorn on the way to Helm’s Deep

I genuinely wonder what it would be like if I rewrote the dream sequence. Like, if it was Legolas even though he’s there with him and Aragorn wakes up wishing that the dream were true and, once again, not understanding exactly why he feels that way. Although it does make for a bit of an awkward moment between the two of them in the morning and Legolas is extremely confused

Not sure what to do about the Evenstar, probably just forget about it in the second AU (whatever that would be honestly i have no idea)

Honestly in this second AU i would love to explore whatever the fuck is going on in Mirkwood that Legolas has to deal with and Aragorn realizing that something is fucking with him. Perhaps instead of the Undying Lands scene with Eowyn it’s instead similar to that since we’re speaking about Aragorn staring into the distance

Lowkey Aragorn looking terrified when Legolas just runs off to take out that scout and he’s like “fuck where are you going, don’t go where I can’t follow”

Legolas getting minorly injured in that battle (of the cliff I guess, his face is BROKEN by the way) and doesn’t address it until they find Aragorn and then it genuinely starts to affect him to the point where he finally passes out and everyone is like “FUCK what happened, oh my god he’s hurt”

God Eowyn’s face is nothing compared to Legolas’ when they think Aragorn is dead

Someone would gladly say, I think, “the guy was fucking heartbroken, he wouldn’t rest one fucking second because he knew that’s exactly what you would do and he figured that since he couldn’t save you, this was the least he could do”

The look Legolas gives him when he refuses to rest literally screams “sit the fuck down, I swear to the Valar I’ll kill you myself”

Aragorn: “Why do you hurt? What is your pain? Please, tell me!”

Legolas: “The trees. The Woodland Realm. My…My home. They are dying.”

That whole argument scene, the expressions goddamn

Legolas was definitely helping Aragorn get dressed in his armor what do you mean

Aragorn calling for his husband in the middle of a fight count: 3

Perhaps I’ll headcanon that Legolas does some of the shit he does just to impress Aragorn

RoTK

I imagine Legolas participating in the drinking game with half a desire to impress Aragorn, half a desire to screw with Gimli, and perhaps a hope to attempt to drown his sorrows of unrequited love depending on the story

The scene where Aragorn leaves the others while they sleep, what if he were to speak to Legolas instead of Eowyn

The way they look at each other at exactly the same time is crazy holy shit

It’s a common fandom thought (the one for this ship at least) that Legolas drags Aragorn away from holding the Palantir because he doesn’t want it to hurt him more than it already has (also that Legolas held him in his arms across his chest, that’s fun)

[aishnico]

#𝘿𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙂𝙍𝙊𝙃𝙇: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦

» summary: after an exhausting day, you felt like all heavy lifts were leaving your body when you saw your husband and daughter together playing

» word count: 1.3k

» warnings: none, just pure fluff, a little bit of nsfw content, lord of the rings content, grammar issues

there's nothing like coming home to your beloved ones after an exhausting day. and your heart melted when you saw your husband and your daughter playing one of the most iconic scenes of 'return of the king', where eowyn kills the lord of the nazgul.

when dave came back from the tour, your daughter clung to him like there was no tomorrow, and she refused to let him move at the moment. she was kind of offended by him because according to her, he was gone for too long. he promised to spend a lot of time both with her and you. so here we are, watching their little play. and you decided to watch them silently.

dave was approaching a toy horse with a large dragon plush between his legs. you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. he was wearing a silver colored helmet which was made from cardboard with thorns. at the area where his eyes and mouth were colored in black. meanwhile, your daughter was wearing a simple silver helmet, only her eyes could be seen. which is also made from cardboard. your daughter then stood in front of her horse with her sword. "i will kill you if you touch him!" she hissed at him.

"do not come between a nazgul and his prey..." he spoke with a deep raspy voice. he then shoved his dragon quickly towards her. but she was fast enough to hit its head with her sword. he then fell to the ground, and she grabbed her cardboard shield. after he shot a glance at her he got up. swinging his morning star it was a plastic black ball with little thorns on it, and was tied with a rope while walking towards her. he quickly started to swing it towards her carefully, he didn't want to harm her, even slightly and make squeak noises. he hit her shield and it fell on the floor.

she was on the ground now, looking frightened. "you fool, no man could kill me." he said before holding her throat, not squeezing it. suddenly, you found a little sword on floor and after grabbing it you slightly hit your husband's back.

Your daughter (completely unbothered when you joined them) got up and took out her helmet, revealing her long, brown hair. "i am no man." she said before hitting his head slightly. he let out a squeak again and fell to the floor. she then approached you. "mommy, you saved me!" she ran up to you and hugged you tightly. you couldn't help but smile and kiss her cheek. "and you, saved thousands of soldiers by killing him!"

"i want a kiss too!" you heard your husband's whine when he took off his helmet. looking at him sweetly while he gets behind you and hugs you two, squeezing tightly. "daddy, can't breathe!" she whined.

"i'll let you go if you'll draw the little play of ours." "fine!" she replied and rushed to upstairs.

"careful there!" you shouted at her. you were now trapped between your husband's arms. tucking your hair strands behind your ear, kissing your forehead. "welcome home, sweetheart." you felt him smile on your head.

"even if i saw you just this morning, i already missed you all." you murmured while burying your head in his chest.

"i prepared a bath for you, go and relax there. after that, we can eat the meal together. she got hungry so she couldn't wait for you. i cooked your favourite, she helped me too!"

"oh dave..." you swore your eyes teared up. "i... love you so much. thank you."

"shh, no need to thank. go and relax now." he gently pushed you before giving you a peck.

you went upstairs and before you entered the bathroom, you peeked in your daughter's room. she was lying on her stomach and drawing what dave had asked her while swinging her legs. you were sure you were all going to watch a cartoon in the living room all night.

you entered the bathroom. after stripping, you entered in hot water. a relaxed sound leaving your mouth. soon you felt like your eyes were going to shut and you couldn't resist anymore.

you heard a knock on the door. you sat properly and waiting for a voice.

"babe? are you alright there?" you heard your husband's worried voice.

"uh, yeah." you responded, but you knew it didn't convince him. "if you don't mind, can you open the door?" he asked. you got up and unlocked the door, not minding to cover your body. not like he hasn't ever seen it.

"let me wash your hair and back." you smiled at him. "thank you babe, but you've already done such things. i'll be at the kitchen after like 10 minutes."

"babe, if you think you're acting like a child or a burden to me, just know you absolutely aren't. i'm willing to help you even in the simplest things." he stated. smiling to you genuinely.

"well then, i wouldn't mind if someone washed my hair." you answered to him while entering the tub again. he sat behind you. grabbing your shampoo and pouring a little on his palm. then rubbing and massaging slowly around your head. You swore a heavy lift was leaving your body. You just enjoyed the moment by relaxing under his touch.

"feeling good honey?" he asked you. you hummed at his question. "you're so good with your hands, baby." "oh yeah? what else i'm good at with my hands?" he chuckled. "hm, playing guitar, cooking?" you answered. "hm, what else ?" you suddenly understood what he meant. "david!" you raised your voice to him and he just laughed. "i'm joking babe!"

soon after you got clean and after drying yourself you were eating the food that was made by your husband and daughter. (you were sure your daughter insisted on adding more salt because she thought it was better) he wanted to talk about your day. but you said it was tough and not even worth talking about. so he was talking about funny memories that he hasn't told you yet from tour. you held yourself from not laughing while the food was inside your mouth. but your eyes got filled because of it.

after finishing the food, he helped you to wash the dishes. he sang you a new song he wrote a couple of days ago. you shared your opinions about it, telling him it would be better if he changed couple of words. but you didn't forget to praise his voice.

you three were lying on the couch now, watching some cartoon you'd find on TV. you were lying your head in your husband's chest while he laid his on yours. whispering sweet nothings to him quietly while he rubs his hand on your waist. his other hand was around your daughter's waist. she already fell asleep. also forgot to show you the drawing she made.

you carefully sat on his lap, wrapping your arms between his neck. and smooching his face with kisses. he couldn't stop giggling. he looked at his peacefully sleeping daughter. he gently pushed her away a little. wrapping both of his hands on your waist.

"you know, i'm so lucky to have both of you." you started. finally resting your head on his shoulder. "i don't, no... i can't even imagine my life without you. you both are my strength, you both are the reason i want to wake up every day. i love you, you can't even imagine it. thank you dave, for everything."

he looked at you confused. "why are you talking like you're leaving or dying? we are not going anywhere." he paused. "well, i may go often but i still come back home to you. you two are my home, and i don't want it to change even if a little bit. i'm willing to do everything to make you both happy. i love you sweetheart." he paused again to pat his daughter's head gently. "i love you too, my little heroine."

soon after, you two fell asleep in each other's embrace.

[brujitaadinbo]

I've been picking up some Tolkien reading again; I am a fan of his writing and I remembered some verses from the most beautiful love story for me in the entire Tolkien universe; after Faramir and Eowyn, the story of Luthien and Beren; a story that crosses all barriers for love.

So when I go back to the story of both characters; How Luthien's love for Beren is so strong (and it's a two-way connection) When Beren falls into the clutches of her captors, Luthien fights with all her might, against everyone who held her and was against her love for Beren, even her father.

How to reach your loved one to save him.

Somehow it made me remember this point and relate it to another universe that I love (and I don't care what other people say) star wars

SW has a lot of Tolkien and it is evident that its female characters exude strength, especially if the fight is for someone or something they love.

When this universe begins with episodes 4, 5 and 6 Leia develops this complicated relationship with Han, but love somehow unites them, thanks to strength and destiny.

She ends up rescuing him even when she is also captured, but her feelings make her throw herself into danger for him

Later, on another SW bridge, one of my favorite couples in this universe develops within the conflict. Kanan and Hera; a couple that I believe is one of the healthiest and best developed. Love was always his hook and compass

When he ends up being captured, Hera does not hesitate at any time to go to his rescue, convincing the entire gang that "just because they are family"

Actually; You could see Hera's need to go rescue her boy. And when she is captured, Kanan does not hesitate to find her and save her.

After; My favorite shipment appears and what I love most recently. A pair of stubborn and deluded Mandalorians, who don't know how to interact in this matter of feelings, but who unconsciously help and support each other. Bo Katan no longer wanted to know anything about this man with silver beskar, he was already resigned, but love seems to have other plans for them.

The force moved its pieces and destiny helped in this play. Din Djarin almost ended up saying goodbye to this universe but Grogu went in search of the most trustworthy person and the one he knew would help them, because Bo has a special affection for that green boy and a stronger feeling for his Mandalorian father.

And he throws himself against the danger and pain of memories and seeing Mandalore fallen. And it continues like this on constant occasions when she is able to save him and keep him safe. This is how they show affection to each other and this is how he swears that he will be close to her.

And finally; the couple that no one understands and that many do not support (but I don't give a damn, the fandom of this shipment exists and we agree that they are very good at being together) Separated by conflict and circumstance; The force has different ways of acting, but that does not mean that mutual feelings disappear, especially if destiny brings them closer again. Sabine and Ezra are in a constant struggle, even with their own feelings, but even when he is far away, she never stops thinking about him.

When the promises made are there, she sets out to fulfill them and see him again, make him come home. Leaving aside everything and sacrificing the safety of an entire galaxy; a selfish impulse but that can only be done out of desperation to have it close, love sometimes makes you act unconsciously.

The only thing you can do is let yourself go. Being captured is the only way to get to him. And that's how they find each other, they manage to see each other, even when they have to separate again.

Luthien and Beren's story is similar to many of these stories of the couples I love in SW We can agree that light, love, strength and destiny are always there to cross your paths. And they will manage to love each other (or already did) or be together in their own way.

This is the way.