#tree of gondor gloves

[rannadylin]

Ooooh I know what motif I want on the double-knit gloves I'm planning to go with my One Ring Cowl and Noble Maiden hat! How about a White Tree of Gondor?

For reference, this is the hat and the just-barely-begun cowl:

And these are the double-knit glove prototypes I made a while ago with a fleur-de-lys chart I borrowed from here:

And this is what I've got so far for the Tree of Gondor gloves! I adapted a tree chart from here to make it fit in the panel for the backs of the gloves where the original set has the fleur-de-lys.

Still need to work on the left panel (which will be the palm); I don't know if I'll keep the little mini-crosses (they do match the stars above the White Tree motif, after all); if so I will probably get rid of the border at the bottom since I didn't have room for it on the tree panel and just keep the stars going that far down. Or maybe some other small LOTR-themed motif across the palm?

[miriel-elenna]

Dean didn't expect to make it three years.

Hell, let's be honest, after all the bullshit of his entire life, he hadn't expected to make it to the wedding, a wedding, any wedding. He'd given that dream up years ago, because no one in their right mind would look at Dean Winchester and think, yeap, that's they guy I'm gonna marry.

Lucky for Dean, Cas was crazy. Crazy like a fox. Which worked just fine since Dean wasn't exactly on his rocker either.

Dean was determined to not take any day, any second, for granted. He had plans. Schemes, even. He was gonna rock Cas' socks clear off.

It all started before the sun came up. For once, Dean was the early riser, too excited for the day to sleep too much. The February morning dawned clear and cold as Dean snuck around their house, quietly pulling things out and setting things up.

The breakfast nook was set up just so, the sunny yellow table cloth, flowers in a vase, and a new, leather-bound journal carefully placed beside Cas' plate, a honeycomb decorated pen clipped to the cover.

By the time Cas rolled out of bed, the coffee was already made and the bacon had just finished cooking. Dean poured batter into the Death Star waffle maker, one of their awesomer wedding gifts, as the floorboards creaked, announcing Cas' entrance into the kitchen.

Dean turned around, Cas' coffee mug in his hand, the special one from Jack that only a parent could love. Cas' eyes were still sleepy but soft as he looked at what was waiting for him.

Dean grinned and held out the steaming mug, "Happy anniversary, sweetheart."

Cas smiled and took the mug, taking a slow sip and then setting it down on the counter behind Dean. He reached up and placed his hand on Dean's cheek, drawing Dean into a slow, tender kiss.

"Good morning, my love," Cas said, voice still rough with sleep. They kissed again, impossible to stop at only one. "Happy anniversary," Cas murmured as two kisses turned into three, four, five.

The waffle maker beeped, time and space re-asserting themselves.

"Don't want the waffles to burn," Dean mumbled, before diving in to steal one last kiss from Cas' smiling lips.

Cas hummed and leaned back before Dean could steal another. "Wouldn't want to waste all of your hard work." He grabbed the plate of bacon off of the counter and took it to the table.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled with a grin. "Just save me some of the bacon this time, okay?"

"I make no promises," Cas said around the crunch of smoky, salty, meaty perfection.

"Love you too, asshole," Dean laughed, the sound of Cas' chuckle music in his ears.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, Dean and Cas trading surprise gifts. When Dean went out to his wood shop to do a little work, soft new work gloves were waiting on his bench. A sturdy leather messenger bag, the White Tree of Gondor worked into the flap, was hanging on the hook by the door, a replacement for Cas' old, threadbare foraging bag. New boots were sitting by the back door when Dean came in for lunch, black and shiny and almost too nice to wear outside. Cas was wearing the belt that Dean had left coiled in the drawer, with that gaudy purple "Cowgirl" belt buckle leftover from their bachelor party, the one that matched the pink buckle stored in Dean's top drawer.

Dean might've had to open that belt up, get down on his knees, and indulge in a little afternoon delight right there in the kitchen. It hadn't been part of the plan but who gave a damn. The sight of Cas above him, panting, eyes closed and face flushed as he came down, was worth a little detour.

Or a long detour. Whatever. It was their anniversary, they could fuck if they wanted.

Dinner was candle-lit, because Dean was a romantic, goddamnit. The pot roast had been braising low and slow for most of the day and Cas had made the best cherry pie that Dean'd ever eaten.

Soon enough they were lazing on the couch, lamplight golden around them, watching the fire in the fireplace flicker and spark.

"I have another present for you," Cas said as his fingers combed slow and lazy through Dean's hair.

"Well ain't that lucky, cause I've got another one for you, too," Dean drawled.

Getting up from the couch was hard, but Dean'd been waiting for weeks to unveil this last gift.

The bundle he pulled out from its secret hidey hole in the back of the closet unfurled into a long leather coat, soft as butter and lined with wool.

"Oh, Dean, it's wonderful," Cas said. He pulled a box out from behind his back and they traded bundles.

Dean set the box down and lifted the lid carefully off. His eyes went wide when he saw what was inside, and he couldn't help bouncing and clapping his hands, just a little.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dean asked, voice a little breathless and a touch giddy.

"I'm afraid I've played right into your cowboy fetish," Cas said with a long-suffering sigh. He reached around Dean and pulled the cowboy hat out and placed it on Dean's head. It fit perfectly. Of course it did.

Cas' arms were secure around Dean's waist and he dropped a kiss on the back of Dean's neck. "I love you, Dean."

Dean turned in his arms and kissed him soundly on the lips. "I love you, too. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He pulled out of Cas' arms and grabbed his wrist, tugging him urgently toward the bedroom. "Come on, buddy. I've got a cowboy to ride."

Cas groaned, but followed quickly behind him. "I've created a monster."

The hat, of course, stayed on the whole time.

Now posted to AO3 as Three Year Gone

[knithacker]

White Tree of Gondor Gloves by Natalia of Elfmoda: 👉 https://buff.ly/3oywGld

[frodo-with-glasses]

fight and chocolate? thanks!

I wrote a little something for the word “fight” here, so let’s talk about chocolate!

Unfortunately, my nerdery is actually putting the kabosh on my fun this time, because I know for a fact there’s no way chocolate exists in Middle Earth. In the real world, cocoa trees originate from the Amazon Rainforest in South America, and only came to the attention of Europeans thanks to the Spanish conquistadors. This is important because Tolkien meant for his histories of Middle Earth to be a sort of mythology for England; which means the story takes place in some vague pre-historic era centuries (or even millennia!) before cocoa ever gets across the ocean.

Even putting aside the history angle, there’s no getting around the fact that the cocoa tree is a tropical plant, and that the climate of Middle Earth is decidedly temperate. This thing only grows in hot, wet areas near the equator. Middle Earth is Not That. Even the southernmost regions of Gondor get cold in the winter. It is not the right conditions for growing cocoa trees.

So as much as I would love to write a fic of little hobbit children tumbling indoors after hours of playing under a grey winter sky, puffing and stamping and peeling off layers of coats and gloves and shaking the snow from their hair, and warming their chilly fingers and red noses and little bellies with delicious cups of hot cocoa, alas, ‘tis not to be.

But.

If you play a little hard and fast with the historicity of this thing, there is a way you can get cocoa into Middle Earth. In modern times, cocoa trees aren’t just cultivated in South/Central America, but also in other tropical places worldwide, such as West Africa and Indonesia. Tolkien does account for the other sectors of the Eurasian continent in his worldbuilding: that’s what Rhun and Harad are for! SO. If you REALLY wanna get chocolate into Middle Earth, I suggest the following scenario.

The War of the Ring is over. Peacetime is well and truly in swing. King Elessar has kept himself very busy restoring Minas Tirith, creating much-needed infrastructure in the outlying territories, establishing trade relations, and dealing with the few remaining skirmishes on the borders.

This is around the time that an embassy comes from Far Harad, hoping to establish friendly relations with the conquering King of Gondor. They’ve heard about the decisive military victories that he won over their kinsfolk in Near Harad. (It’s whispered that he challenged Sauron himself.) They don’t think it wise to be this guy’s enemy. They’d rather be his friend. To sweeten the deal, they’ve brought gifts: a whole entourage of gold, jewels, spices, and some of the most curious and wonderful things from their part of the world.

There’s a bird that’s roughly the size of a falcon, but it is resplendent in blue and green and yellow, and at a sign from its handler it whistles and clicks and speaks like a person. There is an animal that looks like a small, skinny, hairy child with a tail, and its feet are like hands; they watch in awe as it climbs onto and off of the shoulder of its handler and plucks the hat off his head. There is a baby mumak; orphaned, they say, but they found her and cared for her. There are foods that make the mouth feel like it’s burning without heat, tastes more incredible than anything they could imagine.

And!

There is a reddish-brown drink in a cup.

The ambassador from Harad takes a sip of it first, to prove that it is not poisoned, and places the golden goblet into the hand of the king with a deep bow. The king thanks him with courteous words. He breathes in the aroma coming from the goblet; it is heady, earthy, and slightly sweet. He can only imagine that this is some sort of delicacy, a luxury of far-away kings. With all formalities out of the way, he raises the goblet to his lips.

The taste, when he takes a small sip, is extraordinary. There is sweetness, yes, but also bitterness, a powerful complexity of flavor. It takes him aback for a moment, and he’s not sure if he enjoys it, but now knowing what to expect, he tries again, and realizes that it is quite delicious.

He calls over the translator. “This drink,” he says, holding forth the goblet; “I like it. What is its name?”

And just like that, huzzah! You have chocolate in Middle Earth :-D

WORD ASK GAME!

[everythingheard]

for Mylis ( @amused-bouche ).

For the Rangers of Ithilien to catch Orc scouts near the Anduin was a common occurrence. Loud as the creatures were and with a lack of fluidity in their movements, they were many and dispensable, as well as brutal in their strength. The footprints Faramir had noted earlier in the day pressed into the soil along the river attested that the group currently nearby was of a decent size ( certainly large enough to cause more than a little trouble ). Thus, he and his men had wasted no time in hunting them, following any further tracks until they happened upon the band amongst the trees.

Far less common, however, was to find a solo traveler situated directly in the Orcs' path.

After clandestinely overtaking their quarry and arriving at a steep hill overlooking the Orcs' route which allotted them an excellent vantage point, some of the Rangers began to notch their arrows for the ambush. Initially, he noticed the slight figure as he surveyed the surrounding area for anything else which might be of use; was this a child walking unwittingly into the direct path of the Orcs? The notion of anyone so young traversing here alone was absurd, however, and upon straining his gaze, Faramir saw that the wanderer was in possession of a beard — a dwarf, then. This close to the nearest bridge, the intention was most likely to cross in order to reach one of Gondor's closest towns with their markets and places to rest comfortably, or while less likely, as some form of aid to the Enemy.

Making his way down the precipitous ridge, he concealed himself once more amid the foliage as he cut through the distance between him and the dwarf, his soft footsteps ( said to be not dissimilar to those of the elves ) and verdant cloak shielding him from notice. The moment the stranger was within reach, he clamped one gloved hand over the traveler's mouth and the other around the waist before dragging them both back into the trees. Faramir didn't release his grip as he murmured near the dwarf's ear, "Whether you are on your own or serve the same Master as the Orcs headed in this very direction, you are coming with me."

[legolaslovely]

Walking on Snow

A/N: THIS IS MUSHY AND I DON’T CAREEEEEE I love this elf so much!!!!! I hope you guys enjoy this one!

Pairing: Legolas x Human!Reader

Word Count: 1,093

Warnings: literally none

Summary: (Y/N) and Legolas met during the Quest of the Ring, never quite voicing their feelings for each other amid the world ending chaos. Now, in times of peace, Legolas and snow have come to pay (Y/N) a visit. Feelings are CLEAR, but will they talk about it? (Spoiler alert: NO!!!!!)

And now my favorite gif because it’s my favorite thank you to the gifmaker

Legolas was stirred by the sound of a small gasp followed by speeding footsteps outside. He sat up next to the hearth that was still warm from long conversations the night before, and looked to the not quite closed door of the small home. Next to it hung a warm coat, completely forgotten. He smiled and took it on his way out.

It was easy to follow the messy trail of boot marks that were dug deep in the many inches of snow. Over the yard, through the gate, around the back of the barn and into the meadow, watching his own feet lay atop the snow instead of sinking in the cold, white fluff. Then the tracks stopped.

He looked up and held a hand in front of his face, catching the snowball that was hurdling toward him. His gentle fingers allowed the compact snow to remain in a perfect sphere. He tossed it and let it fall, it too sinking below his feet. “Nice try, mellon nîn.”

(Y/N) descended, climbing down the branches and landing gracefully on her feet before him. Her smile was bright despite her failed attempt. “You knew it was going to snow,” she said. “That’s why you came visiting.”

Legolas dusted wet flakes from her hair. “I came visiting because I wanted to see you.”

She circled him, fingers weaved together behind her back, boots crunching. “But you picked this day...” her toes lifted her to his ear. “Because you knew it was going to snow!”

He turned. “Yes, I knew.” He spoke over her protests. “And I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to be surprised. I’ve never seen you happier than when you wake up to a fresh blanket of snow.”

“I am happier than even that when you visit.” 

He hummed, lifting her face and running his thumb over her chin.

“How long will you stay?” she asked.

His kissed her forehead, warm lips over cold skin. She knew he was stalling. “I must leave for the forest in the morning.”

She looked out over the smooth, creamy meadow that was just starting to reflect the dawn’s light. The sun was rising, a menacing reminder that time moves on and steals away perfect moments. “The snow will have melted by then.”

“Let’s enjoy it while we can,” he said, taking her hand and leading her along the treeline and further into the silent field. The branches above twinkled with rays of light, leaving (Y/N)’s treat to drip and disappear. She leaned into his side as they slowly walked along, his feet floating on top of the snow while hers were quickly buried.

“It rarely snows in Gondor, especially this time of year. What are the trees saying about it?” 

He smirked. This was her usual question for him to distract from the problems of home. It was her way to bringing him to the things he loved, including her. “They are telling you to put on your coat.” He held it out for her to slide her arms into. She laughed and did so.

“The trees are quite nosy today,” she said. 

He turned her around, taking his time with the buttons. Then he pulled a pair of green gloves out of the pocket. “These too.”

“What are these?” she asked.

“A gift. For the one whose hands are always cold.”

The green fabric shimmered in the light, showing off perfect stitching and the embroidery down the wrists. Clearly warm, but not over sized or bulky, made my the most talented elves in Legolas’ land. (Y/N)’s own hands were already red and shriveling, even after the short time they’d spent unprotected from the cold. “They’re gorgeous, Legolas. Thank you. But I don’t want to wear them just now.”

He allowed her fingers to run through his hair, slide down his cheek, over his lips, to land on his chest. “Greed now will cause you pain later,” he said, lifting her pink hands and kissing them.

“It’ll be worth it.”

He hummed, trying not to smile, which would encourage her. He failed.

“Now, teach me to walk on the snow!” she said. She laughed at his expression and took his hands. “Come now, I’m a rather graceful human and I’ve spent enough time with you to know your ways-”

“And defy them.”

Her lips pressed into a thin, curved line and she looked up at him from under heavy brows. “Teach me.”

His fingers slid from her hands to her forearms, gripping them firmly. He took a deep breath. “This is not something we learn, mellon nîn.” 

“Just try.” 

He led her, one step and she fell into the snow, giggling. “Keep your feet flat.”

“They are!”

“Your boots are too heavy.”

Step, sink. Step sink. Then, she stepped up on the untouched snow. The stiff film over the fluff supported her. Another tentative step. The snow didn’t cave in under her weight. Legolas looked up from her boots to see her mouth wide open in a surprised, joyous grin. 

Then they both heard a crack from beneath. “No, no!” she cried, but Legolas caught her before she could sink down to the dead grass. 

With an arm tight around her waist, Legolas walked her through the meadow like a pair of buoys floating in the sea. He risked a glance and found her watching him with a fond smile- something he’d never seen from any other human. Small and shy, yet heedless of any rules or judgement. Something inherently (Y/N). The reason he’d fallen in love with her.

While he was distracted, her boot seemed to catch and down she went, flailing, stuck in Legolas’ arms. But the elf was quicker and he caught his human, landing in the snow first as her warm cushion. 

The snow tickled his ears and ran wet against his back. It would have been an incredibly uncomfortable feeling if she wasn’t lying on him. “You planned this,” he said over her mad giggles. 

“Maybe.”

He grabbed her pink cheeks and kissed her. Everything about her was cold. He  should have given her the coat sooner, forced the gloves on her hands, brought her inside for tea. But in this moment, all he could think about was her weight on him, the closeness they now shared, and her soft lips that he didn’t want to give back.

“Come home with me.”

Her brows flew up. “A human in Mirkwood?”

“Exactly,” he said.

That fond smile appeared before she kissed him once more.

@emrfangirl​ @misslongcep​ @raindancer2004​ @ladybugg1235​ @xxbyimm​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @fizzyxcustard​ @fire-flv​ @nerdbirdsworld​ @dashesofink​ @teagarages​ @dark-angel-be-thirsty-af​ @zulfiya-the-warrior-princess​ @winchesterandpie

[theeldestsun]

@simplywalks /

The shadows draped gently over him, while the light of the half-moon revealed to him just enough to see that there were five in the party -- and one prisoner. They were all armed, as forward raiders were often armed. Light, but their clothes were designed to make them invisible in the bushes. 

He fussed with his gloves, and pulled at his sleeves. He was trembling, but he reminded himself that this is something he must do. 

The Exile stepped forward, hands up, and spoke, “ Brothers. Greetings,” The party turned all at once. One knocked an arrow, while another’s hand went to the hilt of his scimitar. And there they remained. 

��� Speak your name,” demanded one.

“ I am only called Doran. A son of the Sand,”

“ Why are you here, brother? ” Said another, lowering his bow.

“ My party was ambushed and killed two weeks past,” The Exile explained, letting his arms fall to his sides, “ The only other survivor died of his wounds after a night of fever. I have been wandering alone since,”

At that, all tension seemed to disappear and the men relaxed. The first one stepped forward, and they grasped each-other’s forearms, “ Then you are welcome to our fire, brother,”

The Exile managed a tired and relieved smile before following the man to the rest of the party. One by one, they all greeted and embraced him. For a moment, the Exile wished only to return with them to his home. 

( But he knew not that was not to be. Not yet. )

The Prisoner was tied to a tree nearby. The man was from Gondor, this much was clear. His clothes and face marked him for a noble, of the best blood and breeding from the White City. The man was stripped of his weapons, and seemed to be dazed. He appears to be travelling alone though, for there were no other bodies nor prisoners that he could see. How strange. Even so, the Exile opted not to pay too much attention to the Gondorian. 

The men gathered around the fire, preparing their supper. The Exile offered the remains of his rations, some salted meat. After a minute of polite insisting, to and fro, they allowed him to add the salted meat into the stew. Soon enough, supper was served. Humours were high as they ate, trading stories and jokes. The Exile’s heart ached terribly as he listened to tales from his homeland and hearing how much has changed -- how much his country was lost to the dark sorcery of Mordor. 

( But these men were innocent, he thought sombrely, as he looked upon the faces of his fire-companions. They are only following commands. They too are fighting for their homes. ) 

One by one, then, they declared a sudden wave of fatigue. Then came acute headaches, nausea, and shakes. The Exile helped them to some water, but still their fits would not end. The strongest of them managed to reach for his sword -- but had not the strength to raise it, nor to yell out. A thin white line began to trail from the man’s mouth.  

“ Forgive me, brothers,” the Exile whispered as he stood, turning to go towards the Gondorian. He spoke then in the Common Speech, as he took a dagger to the man’s bonds, “ Are you able to stand? Come,”

[princecami]

Imagine Legolas: Born of Shadows

Pairing: Legolas x Reader (Lena) Chapter 9 Summary: You arrive in lothlorien. Warnings: I do not.

chapter 1  chapter 2 chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6

 Chapter 7   Chapter 8

You sat on the soft grass and leaned his back on the tree, you ran away from Moria, Legolas suggested stopping to deal with the wounds, Merry was in his clothes and so you can go back to your human form, then walked away sitting distant from the others, you needed some time alone. The air was fresh because a river passed nearby, the sky was painted with white clouds and the sun was already heading west, you were properly dressed, and you forgot the wound on your arm and put the bracelet, you did not want attention, you let the tears roll over your face wetting the fabric.

"You're hurt," Legolas's voice echoed in his ears more like a signature than he asked.

"I'm fine," you tried to pronounce the words with confidence, but failed miserably, falling into tears. 

Legolas removed his gloves carefully and examined his brown fingers carefully smoothing the skin of his hand as if he feared the skin would break, he removed the leather bracelet stained with fresh blood as well as the sleeves of his tunic, he lifted the fabric until elbows, and gasped at the sight of the deep wound, he grabbed his arm and finally looked at you, the fabric that covered his face was slightly open giving the sight of his forehead to the end of his nose, he watched his face as if he wanted to register every detail, you shuddered, he held his arm firmly.

"It will hurt a little, your wound is very deep" with a gesture the elf called Aragorn.

"Her wound is very deep, we need a healer," the elf said, smoothing his skin,

 "Do not worry, Lena, I'll take care of you until we reach your destination," the ranger said, you just nodded in silence. ** You could not pay attention to the stories that Legolas was telling about Lothlórien and Nimrodel, you just wanted to forget the horrible day you lived, the elf sat next to you just to make sure you were okay, he held your hand before crossed the stream and kept holding until this moment, he pulled her to rest on his chest, as he spoke, you closed your eyes and felt his chest move as he spoke. In Lórien it enchants. From the rudder to the sea one jumps Which, arrow, In the deep waters comes from above, You just heard parts of the elf's song, your eyes were heavy and sleep will catch up with you, the elf's soft voice made you sleepy. Minutes later Legolas woke you up, saying they needed to sleep in a tree. You waited anxiously to climb into one of them when Haldir appeared, all of you were taken up on the flet and received extra food and blankets. You lay down and closed your eyes, feeling the tears fall, then you felt someone lay beside you and wrapped your arms around your waist keeping you close, the scent of Legolas was unmistakable.

"What do you want?" You questioned. "Why do not I want to love you," you whispered,

 "Do not need to love me, I have enough love for both of us," you laughed at the absurd affirmation of the elf and turnedHe leaned toward him,

 his foreheads leaned against each other, the elf pulled his hip closer, then pressed his thigh between his legs, you tilted your hips to the contact of their bodies and remained with their eyes closed, but could feel the look of the elf in you.

"Nalyë melmë cuilenya," the elf whispered, keeping his body pressed against his.

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They all entered one by one in the order that Haldir put, and they were called by name, you went up the stairs your legs felt weak, when he arrived entered the hall.

"Welcome to Mithrandir's helper" Celeborn greeted, the woman next to him gave her a look and you thought you heard something:

Daughter of the shadows.

The party was in front of Mr. Celeborn and Mrs. Galadriel, you observed every detail of that place carved in a tree, the green and silver walls, everything was like a dream, like being inside an Elvish song, but I was afraid, your hands trembled and a small line of sweat trickles from his fountain disintegrating into his neck, you concentrated all your strength to keep your eyes black, realizing your concern Legolas that was brought from you took his hand and squeezed gently. Celeborn and Galadriel again asked questions about the trip and Gandalf, you felt your heavy heart as if all bad of that night touched you again, you could not pay attention to the words that were said because you are trying to control yourself, incredibly they did not ask questions about you and your clothes so you felt more confident.

Mrs. Galadriel held her gaze on each member of the entourage and silently stared and peered into each other, then she looked at you, you felt invaded as if she could read your mind.

Do not hide heiress from the dark throne.

You recognized the voice inside your head and your eyes glittered quickly and returned to normal. There is no need to hide. ** You sat on the side of gone from the tent, the elves offered a separate place for you for being the sole woman of the entourage. You looked around, the most beautiful trees, the stairs around them.

It really is a dream!

You let out a sad smile and doubled your knees, taking deep breaths, you wanted to fall asleep, but even though you could not, your heart still weighed on Gandalf's death and the words of the Lady of Lórien.

"You do not look well," Gimli said, joining you.

"I'd like to apologize, apologize for what I did to your people," you choked, trying to hold your tears.

"Do not say that, I do not know you as someone who harmed my people, quite the opposite! In all our stories and songs you are portrayed as Thorin's faithful companion, The Black Wolf! "Smiled the dwarf.

"But I left him, before the forest of Mirkwood, I abandoned him for selfish reasons," you stammered, 

"No dear, my father told me what his motive was, Gandalf is important to you and we know, and after all you came back for us "He tried to cheer her up,

" I came back too late, Fili, Kili and Thorin could not be saved anymore, "

" Do not say that, you were not to blame, you did everything for your family just like we did " rose

"We the lonely mountain dwarves love you and thank you for everything you did for our people, you protected us from the elves and taught them a lesson!" He chortled,

 "We really admire you, even though our stories do not tell you who you are it was, Balin counted and that made us admire her more "with these words the dwarf withdrew. You stood up and looked up admiring the stars as you felt two firm hands wrap around your shoulders.

"I'm sorry, none of us suffer the same as you did for Gandalf's death," Aragorn said, you just nodded and accepted the comforting embrace of the ranger.

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    Tomorrow arrived soft and delicate, the day passed fast, you enjoyed the time together the hobbits and Boromir, Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli were not seen, especially Legolas he was not seen for a long time. In the first days the elf slept with the group, but then began to spend much of the time with the elven relatives and also the dwarf, you missed, but thought it would be better so, this feeling could not develop, but something in you grew with the absence of the elf, you felt a painful longing as if you had not seen him for centuries. You arranged the cloth on your face making sure there would be no unprotected skin, so it was out, it was lunch time and your belly was already irritated, the breeze was cool even at noon.

"Good morning, Lena." Aragorn caught his eye.

"Good morning," you offered her a smile.

"I have a gift from Lady Galadriel," he offered her a very well-folded suit of bluish gray,

 "Dress?" You raised an eyebrow and displayed displeasure, the ranger smiled

 "Yes, just use it, you can not refuse a gift" he he pulled the tissue that was not wrapped, you made another grimace and bit your lower lip, then the voice echoed in your head again.

Do not hide in the shadows.

"All right, I'll wear it, even with all eyes," you gave another sad smile, 

"You will not have looks, other than those of admiration for your beauty." Aragorn gently touched his shoulder and smiled gently, not wanting to argue anymore, gave him a thank-you and returned to his tent.

** The dress falls to him as well as all the other Elvish dresses you wore, you lifted the hem of her dress and examined the boots she wore, so she decided to leave them, she would not need them at the moment. You walked to your companions, everyone watched you come in and sit at the table with them, Legolas was not, Gimli praised his dress and his hair, the dwarf's small eyes seemed to glow as he examined each strand of his head, Merry and Pippin said that you looked like a butterfly, Frodo just said she was as beautiful as she imagined and Sam could not say anything, every time you looked at the hobbit he flushed furiously, then went back to eating silently.

"You are the most beautiful human woman my eyes have ever contemplated," Boromir said after looking at you once again. 

"Thank you, I assure you that you receive many more compliments," you smiled faintly, 

"Your modesty fascinates me!" He smiled .There was nothing malicious in the comments of the captain of Gondor, you two spent much time together since you arrived and became good friends, Aragorn leaned towards you and whispered only for you to hear:

"Legolas would have been even more fascinated when I saw you," you blushed softly,

 "I do not wish his fascination, nor admiration, much less love," you said giving a very serious expression as he ranted,

 "But you do," he said, leaning back. in the chair and allowing the entourage to hear, then leaned back again and whispered:

"And he also has the heart of the elf" ** You were walking after dinner, the stars hung above your head shining through the leaves of Lórien's trees, the cool breeze cooling the blaze in your chest, you missed Gandalf and Legolas, you missed the elf's smile.

That stupid smile!

Tears streamed from behind his eyes, you needed someone to console you for the magician's absence, you need a word of affection, but it was your fault, you pushed the elf away, the memories came to your mind:

You got up in the morning from the flet, struggling to get out of the elf's embrace. 

"Legolas, let me go!" You hissed between serrated teeth, the elf gasped,

 "Why do not you stay with me, I hate to see you sad , let me help you, "he said,

" I do not need your compassion, leave me, "you snarled, then the elf let you go and you two stood.

 “Legolas, I can not and do not want to love you "

“Do not say that, I beg you," said the elf, holding his arms, tears streaming in his blue eyes. 

"I beg you to give up that feeling, please give up! "You begged.

Legolas let go of you and after that day you did not talk again, you had to let him free to live and love someone like him, something was happening to you and Gandalf feared it would be death to stalk you, it would not be fair to give love to him and then abandon him, the elves only love once, he would suffer for the rest of his life. You looked down and saw Mrs. Galadriel walking through the gardens as soft as starlight, she glared at him.

Daughter of the Shadows, stay in the light.

Nalyë melmë cuilenya - You are the love of my life

English is not my mother tongue! If something goes wrong please correct me, tell me if you like it.

[rannadylin]

Huzzah, it's done!

These are the Gloves of the Reunited Kingdom, with the White Tree of Gondor on the back and a star for Arnor on the palms (plus bonus tiny star on the index fingertips).

They will go delightfully with the cowl and hat. :-D I may or may not manage to turn my pattern notes into a pattern that makes sense to other knitters...if I do, odds are I'll only be able to present them in one size (small!); I've tried before to write up gloves I designed and got stuck on adjusting the numbers for other hand sizes so I make no promises. If you're a knitter comfortable both with double knitting (or you could probably make it work in stranded but there'd be some long floats on the palms) and glove knitting, you might be able to reconstruct them from the charts while I figure out finger stitch counts math:

[rannadylin]

I tried to upload a video of the knitting process but Tumblr is being coy about finishing the processing so I may be done with the gloves by the time the video is postable. 🙄 So here are some progress photos instead! The White Tree of Gondor will be the back of the hand and the Star of Arnor will be the palm; this is the right-hand glove.

[rannadylin]

Design process for the gloves to go with my cowl and hat...

Since the back of the hand will have the White Tree of Gondor, for the palm side we're going with a Star of Elendil as the best I can find for Arnorian iconography. The full-sized star is seven-pointed like the ones all the Dunedain of the North wear in LOTRO... :-D For the little red border at the bottom of the panel I went with five-pointed stars because I just do not have enough stitches there to fit in seven points. Anyway, the large star is somewhat inspired (but rendered down to two colors because this is for double knitting, not intarsia) by the one on Halbarad's Grey Company cloak (upper right in the photo) and the red border with multiple small stars is inspired by Candaith's Grey Company gloves with the knuckle-stars (lower right in the photo). I did a swatch of the red border to make sure that would actually come out looking like stars and...yeah, I think it'll work.

I had forgotten I ordered some red yarn for these (Gloss Fingering in Cranberry) along with the gold and white to match the cowl and hat; the red is to match the coat that I'll be wearing the whole set with and it's meant for a wee accent color alongside the two main colors...I might also use it for the cuffs and/or the fingers? Maybe just half of the fingers! :-D For reference, here is the full chart and what the prototype of these double knit gloves, which I'm basing the pattern on, looked like:

[rannadylin]

Cerphedis has walked the Paths of the Dead and finally reached Gondor! I've attempted to put together a Gondorian outfit in honor of her homecoming.

She's wearing Hyrde-Breost, dyed black; Lenni's old Decisive Cloak of the Citadel Guard Captain (or was this one Corbous' old cloak? Someone was kind enough to leave it in the wardrobe, for which Cerphedis thanks them); Medium Nadhin Shoulders with a lovely White Tree pin or embroidery or something; Reinforced Leather Dunlending Boots, dyed black; Argent Dwarf-Make Gloves, dyed black; and the Groom's Myrtle Circlet from the Midsummer festival. It'll do for now, but it still needs some work...

Ah, the grandeur of the White Mountains behind her, and...oh, what's this big marble?

When I say homecoming, though, I don't think this specific part of Gondor (the Blackroot Vale) is where she's actually from. Maybe just further southwest, beyond Dol Amroth, maybe Pinnath Gelin or thereabouts; but for the moment I'm leaning towards her home being in Far Anórien. Off in this direction, on the other side of the Ered Nimrais...

Meanwhile, while she was at the Stone of Erech, she met a Swan Knight! And his Loyal Horse!

She also pouted about not being able to acquire all the lovely Gondorian-style dresses as cosmetics. Can't a girl just wear something half as nice as the NPCs get?

Ah, but then I did see one NPC in a dress that's actually in my wardrobe! (It's the Dress of the Anórien Autumn, I think from the fall festival, and this only strengthens my case that Cerphedis is from Far Anórien rather than West Gondor...) I can't dye it quite that dark a blue as the NPC version, but...Cerphedis is comforted knowing she at least has one proper Gondorian dress, just in case she gets summoned to, like, the King's wedding or something.

She still absolutely needs one of their cute slouchy berets, though.

[knithacker]

White Tree of Gondor Gloves by Natalia of Elfmoda: 👉 https://buff.ly/3oywGld

[knithacker]

White Tree of Gondor Gloves by Natalia of Elfmoda: 👉 https://buff.ly/3oywGld

[knithacker]

White Tree of Gondor Gloves by Natalia of Elfmoda, Get The Pattern To Make Them: 👉 https://wp.me/pjlln-3g3

[knithacker]

White Tree of Gondor Gloves by Natalia of Elfmoda: 👉 https://wp.me/pjlln-3g3