and a thousand thousand slimy things lived on; and so did I.
“He would never again return to his golden bed, but was stretched cold as stone, twisted upon the floor of the shallows. There for ages his huge bones could be seen in calm weather among the ruined piles of the old town. But few dared to cross that cursed spot, and none dared to dive into the shivering water or recover the precious stones that fell from his rotting carcase.” –The Hobbit
Written for terrifying tolkien week. Contains elements of PTSD, fear of drowning, general creep factor.
The Lake at night is still, dark, and dead.
There are fish that move within its water, ancient but not
wise, and never at peace. Their gills twitch and pulse far beneath the surface,
unceasing, and Bard feels his skin prickle with the motions like an echo. He’s
caught a fish like that before, watched it heave and writhe on the deck of his
barge as the weight of its body betrayed it. He fed it to his family. He had
wondered what they ate. Now, he imagines they are still working to pick clean
the carcass that lays on the lakebed beneath them. He would never eat of their
meat, not now.
He dreams of it still. Not of fire, and falling, but of
water. Of the sudden shock of hitting the surface, and his son’s body nearby (but not close
enough, he was lost, he was drowning, where
was Bain); but mostly of the dragon. He was sinking down into the depths,
and Smaug was sinking with him, a single golden eye drawing nearer and nearer
as they reached the bottom.
Written for terrifying tolkien week. I have a fondness for tolkien’s elves mixed with traditional faerie lore, which in itself is pretty spooky. So here’s some creepy fey Thranduil and a very unfortunate Bargeman. No warnings.
The water rocks his boat, as if hands from beneath the
rippling current are tugging it down. The water is dark, unknowable. It isn’t
the water that worries him. Bard’s eyes turn to the forest, branch and root and
shrub spilling over the banks, reaching, always reaching.
Sometimes he passes a gap in the trees, a sliver of darkness
among all the green. There’s something about its size and shape, as if, if he
were to walk that path, the gap would be the exact size of his body. I could moor the boat to that tree and
clamber up the bank, he thinks. I
could slip between those trees and run down the path, run to— He isn’t sure
where these thoughts come from, or where they lead. He shakes them off, fingers
grasping at something beneath the collar of his shirt, and steers far away from
the banks when those gaps in the trees appear.
His grandmother told him stories of this place: you must
walk backwards into the forest if you ever wish to find your way out again. Never
stray near the forest’s edge without a piece of cold iron about you. Carry
salt, or certain herbs, and never speak your name aloud. The river, with its
running water, would protect you. They cannot cross it.
She was always evasive when Bard would press the issue. Who are ‘they’, Gran? he would tease,
only playing at wanting to know.
But she would take his needling seriously, pulling him close
by his thin shoulders and staring into his eyes with the look of a hungry hawk.
You best hope you never find out, boy.
I’m playing this new ToonTown Private server called ToonTown WorldWide. ANYONE AS OF RIGHT NOW CAN PLAY THIS GAME! It’s basically just ToonTown Infinite’s source code renamed. Anyways, custom names didn’t work so I had to pick a name. This was the closest to Vancu. This is my adventures of myself playing so far. It’s slightly different and a little buggier than ToonTown Rewritten. But it’s not to the point where it lags or crashes happen. It’s just misplaced clicks and such.
YOUTUBE VIDEO TO DOWNLOAD TOONTOWN WORLDWIDE HERE!
there are some hurts that go too deep; that have taken hold.
It is the shield-arm that is maimed; but the chief evil comes through the sword-arm. In that there now seems no life, although it is unbroken.
Written for terrifying tolkien week. Contains hallucinations and self-mutilation. Sorry Eowyn.
There are no dreams. Above all, it is never a dream.
She keeps a vial of athelas with her at all times, and at
the worst moment she uncaps it with practiced fingers to crush a leaf under her
nose. It’s so little, but it helps. All she has left are the little things.
Sometimes her body gets so cold she thinks she will shatter
by moving. The dull, bone-deep ache in her shield arm returns, familiar and
manageable. That wound she can bear.
“My arm is not alive.” She speaks aloud to the darkness as
her husband sleeps beside her. She hasn’t been sleeping. Not for a long time.
Faramir wakes at the sound of her voice, blinking but
quickly alert. It’s a skill he needed, one which kept him alive. Now it has
become yet another scar. He looks from her eyes to the pale hand resting on the
bedcovers, folded as neatly. “What are you saying?”
“It’s dead,” she tries again. “The flesh, it isn’t mine. It
went cold the day that I—that day.”
Faramir takes her hand in his, and he kisses her fingers,
her palm, her veins. “It’s only the night’s chill,” he murmurs into your skin.
“I can feel your warmth. Your pulse.”
It’s not my pulse, she
wants to say. There’s something else moving
The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love. Differs from “love at first sight” as it does not imply that the feeling of love exists, only the knowledge that a future love is inevitable.
So I was thinking to make a new TT for Stana because I think she really deserves to be on TTWW. I mean this woman has literally changed my life, she made it better. She makes me smile…
And for that I wanna thanks her. If you’re part of this please reblog it and spread the word.
The more we are, better it’ll be. I’m sure we can do it.
You gonna say, well it’s fun but what is the TT and when we do it ^^.
I was thinking to do it June,2St June (Saturday) at 9pm Europe Time, 12pm PT (pacific Time) 3pm ET (East time)
Stana Rocks Our World
With no space and one hashtag. It’s important that the hashtag comes out this day at 9pm (Europe time) otherwise the TT won’t work. More don’t write more than twice in a same tweet otherwise it’ll be considered as spam and we don’t want that of course.
So now, off your keyboard. Take the date and Spread the word. :D
Hurrying forward again, Sam tripped, catching his foot in some old root or tussock. He fell and came heavily on his hands, which sank deep into sticky ooze, so that his face was brought close to the surface of the dark mere. There was a faint hiss, a noisome smell went up, the lights flickered and danced and swirled. For a moment the water below him looked like some window, glazed with grimy glass, through which he was peering. Wrenching his hands out of the bog, he sprang back with a cry. ‘There are dead things, dead faces in the water,’ he said with horror. 'Dead faces! ’
Gollum laughed. 'The Dead Marshes, yes, yes: that is their names,’ he cackled. `You should not look in when the candles are lit.’