@spring-into-arda (397 words)
There was a point where hoping that things might yet get better - or that at the very least they might endure as they currently were - was not, perhaps, sensible.
With the protections of the Valley breached and the enemy even now pounding at the last barricaded door to his halls, Elrond had to admit that this point might have been reached.
It was an almost unimportant thought, however. For one thing, it changed nothing; this was not an enemy they could surrender to. They would defeat it, or they would be destroyed; there was no other path to seek.
For another, he had spent an uncomfortable amount of his life at this point. Most of his childhood, certainly. And yet, time and again, the light had endured.
The light, he was certain, would again. If he himself would - Well, that mattered far less than those of his people gathered here with grim purpose behind the shuddering door. This hall had been meant for songs and feasting, but he was a child of the First Age and had built accordingly; it would hold a siege a while yet.
Most of those who had won to this redoubt were armed and ready, but there were injured among them, and he moved among those quickly now, giving what chance he could that they might stand ready when the time came.
His ring weighed heavily on his hand.
He had not leaned on it much. He had not dared. And now -
Now he must make his choice. Throw his will and his might into its blatant use - reveal beyond all doubts its presence, throw his will against Sauron’s - or take one last desperate measure to hide it, that at least those others who might still be fighting might have a better chance.
Both measures were likely doomed unless help came.
There was no help that might yet come.
And yet -
And yet.
How many times had he thought those words before?
The door shuddered.
Cracked.
He squeezed the hand of his last patient and stood, drawing his sword at long last.
“We stand!” he cried, the full power of his will weaving through the words.
“We stand!” his people echoed in a response that shook the timbers of the roof.
Splinters flew from the door.
Above the thunderous roars that followed, he could just hear one more impossibly powerful, impossibly familiar voice, ringing out in distant answer.
I feel like I need to share my favourite Jet Lag outake, that, afaik, was only uploaded on Scotty's twitter. It's so fucking funny. Adam looks like he's having an actual brain aneurism while Ben is just like 😕 I don't like it
I'm beginning to think that eucatastrophe may be one of the most important elements of a true Christmas story.
When Scrooge wakes up and discovers that it's still Christmas morning and he can spread the joy of Christmas and make everything right before it's too late.
When the Grinch returns to Whoville and gives all their presents and decorations and the feast back to them.
When Kevin McCallister's family comes back home just in time for Christmas - not only his mom who's been trying so hard to make it back, but also the rest of them who had to wait for the next flight - and the old man gets his family back too.
And especially, especially, when George Bailey gets to live again, and discovers that everyone in town has been pitching in what they can to help him pay off his debts - and not just for the $8,000! Sam Wainwright gives him $25,000 and he's the richest man in town!
Eucatastrophe. It's so perfect for Christmas because Christmas itself is the beginning of the greatest eucatastrophe of them all.
‘I am in fact a Hobbit in all but size.’
Happy Birthday J.R.R. Tolkien!
obsessed with the fact that howl movingcastle is, like, the ideal portal fantasy protagonist. he's a welsh rugby-playing grad student who enters a magical world where he discovers he's a wildly powerful wizard. there's an evil witch out to get him and the king needs his help and there's a curse catching up with him. he has a magical creature sidekick and an orphan apprentice and a mentor who gets killed by the evil witch halfway through and a love interest under a terrible curse. the story is BEGGING for him to be the main character. and he's just like. no <3.
Oooh, tell me about "Steve blipped"!
This one is built off the question: What if Bucky survived the Blip at the end of Avengers: Infinity War, and it was Steve who turned to ashes? Written from Bucky’s POV, this one is kind of an angst-fest. I don’t have the full thing drafted out, and I’m not sure when I’ll ever finish it, so here’s a snippet of the beginning:
————
“Bucky.”
It was Steve’s voice, with something in it that yanked Bucky back ninety years to the days when Steve was a sick little kid, frightened and unsure behind his bravado.
And then Steve turned to him, blue eyes wide—and collapsed into a column of grey ash.
No.
No, no.
No.
He never remembered stumbling forward, never remembered landing hard on his knees. He only remembered the sick horror clambering up his throat, the ash dissolving between his fingers even as he clawed at it, tried to gather it.
NO.
A barrage of neon blue death rays, aliens, childhood illness flashed behind his eyes—all the things that Steve had faced, had fought through, had survived by sheer force of will…
…only to be defeated now by a simple snap of fingers.
It was unthinkable.
It was true.
Bucky’s world reeled. He bowed his head and let the despair take him, waiting for his own body to dissolve.
It didn’t—and there lay the true tragedy.
Till the end of the line, they’d always said.
He had never wanted Steve’s line to end first.
Christian FangirlMostly LotR, MCU, Narnia, and Queen's Thief
277 posts