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From the Ashes
An unexpected guest - A Middle-Earth StoryAn unexpected guest
The Lost Princess - Chapter 7 (ThranduilxReader) Chapter 7
Gandalf limerickThere was a wizard titled Grey,
Awakening of Hope(The fathers of Men meet Finrod Felagund)
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From the Ashes
~ From the Ashes ~
Rick Phoenix often wondered how he managed to receive the worst assignments. And more often than not, he realized that it was his somewhat quiet and shy nature that made it possible.
Rick's magazine editor and chief, Nash Bailey, had told him more than once that he was given such trying assignments to make him a better writer. But after nearly two and a half years of drudgery, Rick was sure that it was just an excuse. A creative way to shut him up from asking for more than scraps. . . and to his shame, it worked. Other than some small grumbling and disdain, he'd never outright refused a project.
When Rick had been hired straight out of college he'd been ecstatic. The Largefield Magazine was highly respectable and gave him the chance to write with the best in the business… But after the initial excitement had worn off and his rose colored glasses had been removed, the young ma
Mature contentMore Interrogation (Thranduil x Reader, NSFW) Alpanu 5 0
An unexpected guest - A Middle-Earth Story
An unexpected guest
First Hall of Moria, T.A.2994
Nithi, son of Nár, Gatekeeper of the East-gate, looked up at the great brass horns, shining high above him in the light of the high eastern windows. The horns had only been installed last week, replacing the old horns, which had long been lost. Nithi loved the sigh of them above all. Most of his brethren had a deep love for gold, silver, gems, or even the refound mithril. But Nithi loved above else brass. And of all he had ever wrought of it, or ever had seen wrought by others, he loved the new Horns of the Great Gates of Khazad-dûm best. Although… maybe that had also something to do with the fact that they aided him in his job. There were visitors coming to Moria. Their messenger to King Dáin Ironfoot had returned.
As the large gates slowly opened, the messenger was greeted by the sight of a full Dwarvish welcome, worthy of a messenger between Dáin II, King of Durin's Folk
The Lost Princess - Chapter 7 (ThranduilxReader)
I will never recall the first week of this travel again, ever! You swore to yourself. Calling it a disaster would be simply insufficient. First of all, your non-existing skills with riding turned out to be a bigger problem than what Legolas and Tauriel had thought it to be. Your first almost-a-fall occurred a mere one hundred feet away from the gates of the underground palace. After the first day on the horse, you slumped onto the grass happily, not able to feel the lower part of your body anymore. Yet, before you had the chance to relax a bit, the horse raised its tail and, well… relieved itself right next to your head. The company was laughing for several hours and they gave you a nickname too, calling you ’Lucky pile’. The next day, you were too tired to stay awake and fell asleep, leaning comfortably on a certain prince. Needless to say, you almost fell
He ran, pell-mell through the alleys of New Orleans, the cold autumn rain pelting his flesh wickedly as his thoughts blurred into a single cry of despair. His chest felt heavy, despite the lack of a heartbeat, his lungs aching as he fought to breathe. The very air seemed putrid, as if all the decay of the world had arisen before him. The dark of the night held no comfort for him, nor did the sound of his cries soothe his forlorn state, as he sprinted faster than the human eye could gauge.
He had lost control. After nearly two full years of sustaining himself on mediocre sustenance, he had snapped. His resolve had been waning since the moment he'd first chosen abstinence, but somehow he had thought he could manage. . . Somehow he'd thought he'd be stronger than the blood lust. . . But he had failed. And instead of feeding on a lowlife criminal or the scum of the earth, he had hurt a child. An in
Prisoners of The Void(Chapter One): An Old Enemy
Melkor gasped as his captors shoved him forward into the Void. He felt their hands leave his back as he tumbled into space, just barely managing to unfurl his dark wings and catch himself before he fell into the abyss below. He whipped around, the clinking chains restricting his movement and slowing him down. In the moment before the doors were closed he saw the faces of the other Valar. Namo was watching him coldly, no trace of sympathy in his eyes, while his sister Nienna stood beside him, tears running down her beautiful caramel skin. Varda was looking at Manwe with sympathy in her silver eyes, seeming worried about something. Manwe raised his head, and his sky blue eyes met Melkor’s deep red-brown ones for a heartbeat that seemed to last an eternity.
Then the doors closed, and, with an ominous clank, were locked forever.
At that moment a terrible, soul wrenching pain washed over him. He gasped and doubled over, feeling as though his spirit was being ripped in two. He sh
There was a wizard titled Grey,
with his party he wouldn't stay.
Soloed boss fight:
"Now call me White,
how I leveled up, I won't say."
The Quimelindë, or the Song of the Lady
Heaving breathe this ancient chanter
But for once no pain I'll sing
Now I'll sing for ageless mem'ry
That kept me true since long-gone spring
Stop the songs of Age of Sorrows,
Sing once more of Elder Day
I will sing thee now my mem'ry
A vision of light, in shades of grey
I still recall in Spring of Arda
A lady fair who looked at me
And deep ingrained was ever since
A mem'ry of eyes, like bluest sea.
Eyes like shining, star-lit sapphires
Embraced by frame of deep black hair
Her gentle lips, the slightest smile
An aura pure: my lady fair
When west I trod in Aman fair,
And sang near high, eternal wall,
When gold and silver trees still shone
I saw alone, this lady tall
I saw her spy a lonely flower,
Slowly near it in peaceful content
Her slender fingers stroked its leaves
She bent her head, inhaled its scent
I stood there struck like Elwë stood
A sim'lar fate befallen me
As single moment lengthened to ages
Awakening of Hope
(The fathers of Men meet Finrod Felagund)
The night swooped down on dark wings of cold dread
with nightmares circling the flames - the faint light
can't chase away the memories and fright
that lurk in mind and in lands that we fled.
Towards the sunset our journey led,
but within us we still carried the night
and to the past we don't turn our sight,
but don't dare to hope for future ahead.
Suddenly nightmare turned to pleasant dream
of distant land with shores from pure white sand
as waves of song carry us like clear stream
and strings of harp are touched by gentle hand.
And when dawn blushes with the first sunbeam
with hope in heart facing the west we stand.
Orc and Spring
Stupid flowers, stupid smells
„Go hunt Hobbits!” Sauron yells
What am I, a stupid bee?
I’ve got pollen allergy!
For Love And Honour
For Love and Honour
A dark day of battle and death,
a warrior lone, and an enemy black,
facing each other with weapons of war,
knowing that neither of them would turn back.
A shield raised up on high to shine,
a tearstained face, hidden under a mask;
blackened the foe's heart in hatred and pride,
lifting a weapon of grim evil task.
Where is the fear, Eowyn, Eowyn?
Where is the fear, maid of Rohan?
Buried down deep, 'neath the pain and the grief,
buried beneath love and duty.
A laugh dark and fell amid screams,
a challenger fair, desperation did feel;
ghastly the voice of a foe beyond fear,
hissing his answer, did not make her reel:
"Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!"
A sword lifting up in response,
the beating of wings of a creature now nigh;
hideous hide flying next to her face,
reply made she ringing, clear to the sky:
"But no living man am I! You look upon a woman..."
A silence of doubt in reply,
the screaming of beast bearing down on her then;
deadly the stroke cleavin