Tag: gigolas

Meme thingy dagnabbit

I was tagged by poplitealqueen – who knows what she did. (choosing only 5?? ONLY 5?? THIS. WAS. SO. HARD.) 

Pick 5 OTPS, before you read the questions, then answer them, tag people when you’re done.

– Legolas/Gimli (hands up anyone who is surprised, oh look, nobody).

– Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield

– Bruce Banner/Happiness 

– Sam Vimes/Sybil Ramkin

– Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

1. Do you remember the episode/movie you started shipping 5?
It’s only a small film, a sequel of sorts, you may not have heard of it…

2. Have you read fan fiction about 2?HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

[Where is question 3???] It was within us all alooooong!

4. If 3 was to suddenly break up what would be your reaction?*weeping tears of purest fire* you mean it was canon? Has it EVER been canon? PROTECT BRUCE BANNER 2K15

5. Why is one so important?
Because they finally heal the breach between their two peoples. Because Gimli promises during the war that ‘where Legolas goes, I go’ – and he keeps that promise to the end of his life. Because Gimli is the first Dwarf to sail into the west. Because Legolas stayed until Gimli was the last of the Fellowship, but could not bear to sail and leave him behind. 

Because they are also scorchingly hot. Poetry and culture and magic, strength and grace and height and secrets and hair (goddamn, SO MUCH HAIR). Piercings. Tattoos. Flexibility. Muscles.

This is all very important to consider; i hope you are all paying attention.

6. Is 4 a serious ship or a funny ship
Both. They are both funny people – or can be. But together Sam and Sybil are pretty much the perfect companions and supports for each other. I adore their relationship SO MUCH.

7. Out of all the ships which has the most chemistry?
Gigolas (in the books, easily!). In the films? Bagginshield. 

Bruce/Happiness is but a pipe-dream, sadly

8. Out of all the ships which has the strongest bond?
G I G O L A S

9. How many times have you read/watched 2’s fandom?
Sigh. Enough to be pissed off about certain tropes (oh hi Dain, yeah, talkin bout you again Dain, why are you always being written as an asshole when you are a stand-up guy, jeez)

10. Which ship has lasted longer? canonically?
*screams into the night* GIIGOLAS Sam/Sybil, I suppose, as the rest aren’t strictly speaking canon. 

11. How many times, if ever have 5 broken up?
Oh, they’re on a break right now. It was a really dramatic sort of scene, out in public and everything. Tcch. 😉

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse which ship would make it out alive?
Oooooh. To be honest, I think they all would! Thorin and Bilbo begin a resistance (plus elven swords prove very effective tyvm). Gimli and Legolas have a competition with Steve and Bucky as to how many zombies they can eliminate. Bruce is fine, naturally. He’s smashing merrily away. Sybil is terrifying with a sword in her hands, and Sam is the dirtiest, canniest fighter in Ankh-Morpork for a reason. 

13. Did 4 have to hide their relationship for any reason?
Nope.

14. Is 5 still together?
*muffled sob*

15. Is 1 canon?
Any way you look at it, they belong together.

16. If all five ships were put into a couples hunger games which couple do you think will win?
OH NO YOU DON’T. 

Oh goddamn. Bruce. Bruce would be the only one left alive.

But he wouldn’t be happy.

17. Has anyone tried to sabotage 5’s relationship?
HAIL HYDRA.

18. Which ship do you defend to death and beyond?
GIGOLAS

19. Have you ever spent hours a day going through 3’s tumblr page?
Nope, though I do check Bruce’s tag every now and then.

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you had to pick one of the ships to break up for good which would sink?
Oh damn, there’s no Question 20, what a shame. 

If you feel like procrastinating, here’s a meme thingy! Anybody, feel free to do it and say I tagged you! 🙂

If you’re up to it want to talk about Narvi? What her thoughts on Gimli and legolas’ relationship are, and how she prefers her green eggs and ham in sansukh?

Sure, if you like!

Okay, thoughts on Narvi…

(She’ll have her eggs soft-boiled please. Toast cut into ‘soldiers’ for dipping!)

So, I consider her to be a genius of the ‘mind can never ever stop working’ variety. She doodles in the margins of every scrap of paper. She can look at an uncarved, unfinished hunk of rock and know exactly what should be made from it, what is waiting inside it ready to be let out. She glances at a wall and sees the fault in it that will cause it to fall in four centuries’ time.

She’s learned to keep most of her thoughts to herself, simply because there are so many of them. They zip and sparkle and tumble through her head constantly. This lends her a rather impatient air, frankly – she always seems a little terse, but it’s usually because she’s also listening to the stones and the air and the fall of water and the EVERYTHING.

Also, uh… she doesn’t mean to be a snob, really. But everyone else’s work (bar a select few, like Telchar) is. Well. Compared to her own? They’re like a child’s finger-painting. She’s just so far ahead of them. She gets impatient! (and a bit lonely – it can be lonesome at the top when nobody else understands you).

Her opinion on Gimli/Legolas: she is both relieved and pained. Relieved – because she would see the great friendship between Elves and Dwarves restored. She knows what greatness can be found in Elves.

(she is also relieved for Legolas’ and Gimli’s sake – one of the few who is. She knows, better than most, that Elves are not impassive, and they do feel pain. She is glad for them both. And additionally, she’s also glad because GREAT MAHAL they were getting tiresome. All that annoying pining.)

And of course, the Gimli-Legolas relationship can’t help but remind her of her own life: of bright Elven eyes that smiled at her, a quick Elven mind that was as sharp and keen and brilliant as her own, of deft clever Elven fingers that made marvels.

And what happened next.

What are your favorite quotes from Sansukh?

Urrrrgh. I have a few? Soooo, here we go! In no particular order:

“Too many elves.”

“I am hilarious.”

“If you are about to think in any way that what happened to you was your fault, any more than what happened to this Man was his fault, I will strike you so hard you will think you’re swimming in Gimlîn-zâram for eternity,” he growled. “You didn’t ask to be sick, Thorin. He didn’t ask to be sick either. Nobody asks to be sick.”

“This is no time to wait around an’ watch Thorin have feelings.”

“But I made you a pen.”

“Thank you for the conversation.”

“I am too tired for revenge. Know that it will be swift and merciless.”

“No curse on your family that I should know about, is there?” Gimli said, forcing a wan smile.

“Nay,” Legolas said. “Upon yours?”

“Several,” Gimli said with wry humour. “I am of Durin’s line, after all.”

Gimli chuckled. “My father once told me that there were seven meals a day for Hobbits. Is it true?”

Pippin’s eyes lit up and he sat down opposite Gimli, sticking his thumbs into his weskit in an important manner. “Now, there are two schools of thought on that,” he said, nodding solemnly. “Some, the more enlightened, believe that there should be upwards of seven meals. Why, what if you get peckish between Second Breakfast and Elevensies? What if you wake up in the middle of the night with turkey sandwiches on your mind? What if supper is not really satisfying the first time around, so you want to give it another chance?”

“We are an ancient race, made by Mahal in the days before the Elves awoke,” said Gimli stiffly. “He longed for companionship, and so he made creatures other than himself and taught them to speak. The One who made all else discovered us, and told Mahal that his creatures were not wanted. And so we are not wanted, not understood, forever apart from the other races of the world.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. “Now, that’s cruel, plain cruel,” he muttered.

“T’is the way of things,” Gimli said, and tapped the embers from his pipe on his heavy boot. “We will be granted a place in the music at the end of all things, for so we were promised. But until then, we are not wanted and we know it.” He looked up at the Elf defiantly. “There are some who delight in reminding us. Still, what are we to do about it? Cease to exist? No. All things yearn to become. Even the meanest of stones strives, and Dwarves know it better than any.”

“Does it ever make you angry?” asked Frodo quietly.

Gimli nodded his bright head. “Aye, sometimes. But what use is anger? We were made strong to endure. And so we do.”

He lifted his other hand and allowed it to drift through the wispy white spiderweb of Bilbo’s hair. “I am glad you grew old,” he said in a low voice. “Whatever the reason, I am glad one of us did. Still, I find I hate that you grew old without me. Would you laugh at my grey beard, I wonder? Would we barricade ourselves against each winter, wrapping ourselves in your quilts and complaining about our bones? Would we grow more alike as time passed; my mannerisms becoming yours, your words becoming mine?”

Bilbo’s lips moved, and Thorin sighed soundlessly. “Fruitless to wonder. Still. How I wish, Master Burglar. How I wish.”

“I will see her again,” Kíli said, and he beamed once more, his heart as light as air. “Who cares about the years in between? With a hope like that, I could move Taniquetil pebble by pebble! I could swim the sundering seas! I could eat a whole bowl of salad! I will see Tauriel again!”

“Stop being weird.”

Dáin smiled again, and the smile was very wistful and soft. “Thirty-two, I was. D’you know that?” he said, more quietly than he had ever spoken before. “Only thirty-two, just a wee little lad. The doors of Durin closed on my knee, and that was that – shattered, lost for good. There wasn’t medicine enough, and the sawbones was no gentle Gimrís, let me tell you. And then lords that are yet living, they stride through the blood and that sweet-sickly smell of burning bodies to bow down to that half-delirious little lad of thirty-two, and demand orders. They tell me that my father and my mother are dead. Well done, Dáin-lad, you’re a hero – lost a foot, but a hero. Oh, and you’re an orphan, incidentally. And we can’t call you ‘lad’ anymore, though you’re still half a child – you’re the Lord now that your whole family is butchered and burned. Sorry about your foot, by the way, but we’re sure you’ll get used to it in no time. The tally? Nobody knows. The wounded are beyond counting, and winter is coming on. Food? There is none. So, what do we do now, m’Lord?”

She kissed his forehead, and then pushed it back down upon his pillow with one finger. “Sleep,” she said firmly. “Or I shall sit here and reminisce about your babyhood until you do.”

He shut his eyes hurriedly, and then he scowled as he heard her soft laughter. “You are a tremendously cruel Dwarrowdam, grandmother,” he grated.

She blew out the candles and stood. Her hand rested on his brow comfortingly for a moment. “Yes, dear. I know,” she said gently.

Bifur beamed at them, pushing away from Thorin and exclaiming, “Lads! Fíli, Kíli, shamukh ra ghelekhur aimâ, how wonderful it is to see you!”

“Good to see you too,” Kíli told him, pulling him to his feet.

“Be even better if we hadn’t seen so much of you,” Fíli mumbled. Bifur simply laughed and tugged the boys into a hug, throwing his arms around their necks and holding on tightly.

Thrór glanced between the fuming, tense Elf and the old King, alone in the room but for the silent shape of Orla at the doors. “Well,” said Dáin cheerfully. “Now that all the emotional young people have gone, what would you say to a cup o’ wine?”

Laerophen frowned down at Dáin for a moment, before he sat abruptly. “Please. Please.”

“I am reliably informed that no one is perfect,” Thorin said, “though if you tell anyone I shall be forced to kill you.”

Frerin chuckled. “Oh, Thorin. D’you think there’s actually anyone who didn’t already know?”

“We’re goin’ to regret this, you mark my words,” he said under his breath. “As sure as eggs is eggs!”

“Samwise Gamgee, I name you an honorary Dwarf for extreme practicality and foresight,” Fíli muttered, and he resigned himself to more climbing as the moon slowly slipped through the sky, disappearing behind them as they made their halting way east.

“No!” Bilbo said hotly. “That’s a dreadful thing to say! Just imagine, throwing yourself away for a silly thing like love – piffle and tommyrot! Aragorn might be quite a remarkable fellow, but he’s hardly the only one around. Why, the world is full of remarkable fellows, if they’re to your taste. For goodness’ sake! You’re too remarkable yourself to go about pining to death!”

“Ghivasha. No wonder of this world, not even the Crown of Durin, was worth your life,” he said quietly. The taller Dwarrow glanced down at Frár, let out a bitter gust of breath and then turned back to where Gimli stood with Frodo.

Thorin opened his new, useless eyes and glared into the darkness. “Then why, may I ask, did you make me so flawed?”

“You have become a far better rider, Gimli,” Thorin said, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Aye, well, it was that or fall off,” Gimli grunted.

aaaaaand, i am sort of quietly proud of all the songs – in particular The Song of Beginnings ( muchymozzarella‘s version here, notanightlight‘s version here) 

and 

The Iron Hills Soldiers’ Song ( notanightlight‘s version here and on lap harp here, MY version – gulp – here, renioferebor‘s version here, flamesburnonthemountainside‘s version here, and nukkelapsi‘s Finnish version here!)

So yeah, there’s some moments I actually thought I did pretty well.

I’d love to know which bits of the fic have stayed with other people!

EDIT: so, some honourable mentions that people have put forward! 

“Am I so ugly to your eyes?/Then you find me fair?”

Ori’s death

Dain’s death

“I Sit Beside the Fire and Think.”

Gimizh, Laerophen and the stolen cookie/the dance of the forge

gremlinloquacious:

He waits without.

There is fire and noise and the smell of blood he had all but forgotten. The Great Doors of the Void have been thrown open – the accursed key lying now at his feet.
But he has been promised, and soon the Halls of Mahal will empty, and a great army will march onwards towards the spot he now sits, amongst the host of The Enemy. If they took him for an elf they would cut his throat. But they only walk past him. For he has waited too long. Suffered his loss too much. He has begged and scratched and clawed at the closed doors of Angels and Gods who would not listen until his voice was no longer made of starlight, but of burning coal and steel on stone. 
This was the only way left.
He had been promised, and towards him marches Durin’s last army, and the one lone being in all that was left of Arda who would know him now.

He waits.

Um, very very inspired by this post – I don’t know much Silmarillion stuff so I had to do some wiki-ing. There is not enough dark legolas and gimli stuff.
It was already quite a dark prompt and then I decided to go ‘hmmm what state would Legolas be in by the time he’d exhausted all other options but Morgoth?”

Sorry not sorry.