Penelopes-poppies - Lots Of Tolkien And Autism, No Actual Poppies

Why are medieval movies always serious war dramas? I just want a medieval rom com. No listen - it could be so good:

The film opens with the wedding - William de something or other is a young nobleman who expected to spend the rest of his life in a monastery illuminating books when his older brother suddenly dies, leaving him with a title and a huge estate to run. He needs a wife and heir to legitimize his claim, and Eleanor is the young daughter of the lord in the neighboring estate. She is eager to get out of her fathers house and become a wife, and the marriage will be a strategic alliance between the two families. Everything is perfect.

However, it instantly becomes clear that the newlyweds can’t stand each other. He thinks she is a shallow teenager, she thinks he’s a pretentious asshole. As soon as they are alone on their wedding night, they make a plan. Instead of consummating their marriage, they will write to the pope with some excuse (that I need to actually research) and request an annulment. The letter will take several months to reach the Vatican and back, and in the mean time they decide to keep it a secret and play the role of a happy couple.

Shenanigans ensue. Running an estate is hard, and both of them are terrible at it. Eleanor starts off on the wrong foot with the seneschal and the servants, the money isn’t adding up, and William has to deal with his serfs coming to him with increasingly hilarious and convoluted complaints. He snores, she hogs the blankets. The members of the household spy and gossip, the animals are underfoot, and someone is always playing the bagpipes at the worst time. The newlyweds bicker and argue and can’t wait for the letter to arrive so they can finally drop the charade and part ways.

After a while though, Eleanor starts getting the hang of being a lady. It turns out she has a brilliant head for math and logistics, and when she figures out that William’s seneschal has been cheating him and fixes the budget to get them through the winter, he starts to trust and rely on her to run the estate. It turns out that William’s abrasivness was hiding a pious and sensitive interior, and once he realised she won’t judge him for it he teaches Eleanor to appreciate art and philosophy (and also how to sword fight because this is my movie and I want a hot fencing lesson scene). Eleanor helps William come to terms with his bisexuality, he learns to respect her struggle as a woman in a patriarchal society (using language that make sense for the period). They realize that unfortunately they also find each other very attractive.

(Someone needs to come up with an actual plot, I’m not good at that.)

The letter from the pope finally arrives granting the annulment, but they take one look at it, toss it in the fire, and go consummate the marriage.

The costumes will all be accurate to the 14th century and thus used to comedic effect whenever possible. The church, the feudal system, and other institutions of Medieval society will be treated as flawed yet nuanced parts of everyday life, people will be reasonably religious for the time period, and there will be lots of dirty jokes (and a hot fencing lesson scene).

Hollywood give me money!!!

I think a lot about how Thingol and Finwe were great friends and what a betrayal it must have been to learn about the Kinslaying of the Teleri, of Olwe’s people, Thingol’s own brother, by Feanor, the son of his great friend. Not only is Elves killing other Elves like the biggest taboo that they have, but that it’s your BFF’s son who killed the people that followed you and your brother? The people you were responsible for?? And then along comes your BFF’s grandkids and they’re lying about why they’re really here and nobody tells you about what your BFF’s kid did?? How personal and devastating that must have been to learn about, given what a great friendship there used to be there.  That Thingol had wanted to return to Aman and the Light he saw there, as well as because that’s where his friend Finwe was.  But then he fell in love with Melian and his people settled in Middle-Earth and he wasn’t able to be there when his people were killed. Anyway, this is why I will always have Thingol feelings because, man, that shit had to have hurted.

I've got it, I've figured out how to tie in every Gil-galad parentage into one, even the "descendent of Feanor" one.

There's some random hunting trip during the Long Peace where Fingon, Orodreth, Finrod and Maedhros all just happen to be together, find some cute random orphaned ellon, and decided to jointly adopt him and just share custody. How's that for "Scion of Kings"?

Friendly reminder that 1200 calories is the recommended amount for a 5 year old

Word Count: 1781 words

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth

Characters: Elrond Peredhel, Elros Tar-Minyatur, Maglor | Makalaure, Maedhros | Maitimo

Additional Tags: One-Shot Collection, Non-Linear Narrative, Elrond-centric, Maglor-centric, Character Study, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Needs a Hug, let Elrond not lose anyone 2k20

Summary: Scenes of the kidnap family through Elrond and Elros’ childhood, featuring difficult questions, buried feelings, and the fragile hope of a happy ending.

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an unstoppable force (hobbit curiosity) meets and immovable object (Gandalf not explaining)

my sister said to me that she doesn’t think Azula would’ve killed Aang if not to bring Zuko home, and that made me realize something very interesting.

Azula doesn’t have a reason to want to capture Aang.

Not anymore than the rest of the Fire Nation. She wasn’t ordered to, but she was ordered to bring Zuko (and Iroh) home. Which she does, by killing Aang and giving Zuko the credit.

And you know what’s interesting? During the main four interactions Azula has with Aang during the second season, she sends Mai and Ty Lee away. She leaves them to fight Katara and Sokka, she leaves them to chase the bison she knows doesn’t have the Avatar, she fights him solo on the Drill and she leaves them to guard a bear and an empty throne while she takes on the Avatar in the catacombs.

She separates herself from them to fight Aang four different times.

From anyone else, it could be a pride thing. But Azula has shown on multiple occasions that she does not value pride above all else. She is insanely strategic, and she’s fine with making it look like someone else is winning if it means she has the upperhand. She admits when she needs help, hence having Mai and Ty Lee in the first place and Zuko in Ba Sing Se. She even apologizes to Ty Lee that one time. Azula does not value pride over results.

She doesn’t celebrate prematurely, either— during the Drill episode, she’s practically the only one who isn’t celebrating the victory. Azula doesn’t celebrate a victory until it’s final. Whereas Iroh in his flashback, a prideful man, had been boasting about burning Ba Sing Se to the ground.

Pride. It’s the food of the wise man, but the liquor of the fool.

It’s as if Azula is trying to capture/eliminate Aang specifically just to give Zuko the credit. The lack of witnesses, the way she seems to pursue the mission as a personal one. She intends to bring Zuko back to the Fire Nation as Ozai requested, but she intends to bring him back her way and get him unbanished.

So my friends and i came up with a sort of AU where people sprout flowers in their hair when they feel any sort of love. So anyways, ahklut crew teases Zuko about how many blue family flowers have been growing in his hair the longer he stays on the ship.

This puts his Season One hair into a whole new perspective.

---

Uncle's hair has dried flowers: his wife's panda lily, Lu Ten's dragon ivy. Everyone knows that dead flowers aren't as fragile as they seem, but he has the crewmen carry an umbrella over him when it rains, anyway. Carefully, he combs around them every morning. Leaves from the vine, Zuko hears him crooning sometimes, even though Lu Ten won't ever lose his leaves. He won't grow any new ones, either.

(Tucked away under his greying strands, still too close to the scalp to be easily seen, a bud has been growing for years. Iroh does not pressure it to bloom, but he does look forward to the occasion.)

(And then a storm, and the Dragon of the West realizes there is no way to tell a dead bloom from a live one without prying its petals open, and this he cannot do. A dead bloom can never heal.)

The Akhlut's crew find the Fire Prince's shaved head profane. When he's caught stealing razors, they crack down. Stubble grows around the black ponytail. Flowers don't.

(At thirteen, the Fire Lord set a hand on Zuko's face, and burned Ursa's sheltering rose bramble away. It would have grown back if she was alive.)

("It would have grown back if she still loved you," Azula corrects him, and he's never sure it if was a fever dream that placed her next to his sick bed, or if she really was there, her precise flames as good as any garden shears as she burned his fire lily from above her ear.)

"Whose is that?" Toklo asks, delighted and too loud, when he catches sight of the little sprig of blue flowers that are only visible when the Fire Prince lets his hair down to wash.

"No one," Zuko says, loudly. "My little sister," he says, more quietly.

Uncle's white jade flower is too large, too showy, it sticks out as it curls above his head. He snips it off between his fingers each morning, but it never stops trying to come back.

The crewmen, their own heads in ruckus and unashamed bloom, watch his daily pruning with distaste. No one ever catches what the Fire Lord's flower looks like; they can never catch him pruning it.

(They assume it's there to be pruned.)

(Zuko would like to know what his father's love looks like, too.)

His outrage at Toklo's snowdrops peaking their way through his black fuzz is as hilarious as it is worrying.

("Don't get attached, Toklo," they warn.

"But warm water," says their younger crewmen, who has never seen a reason to be stingy with his love.)

The Fire Prince shouts and steams. The snowdrops shake quite merrily in his rage. He doesn't pluck them.

He doesn't pluck Kustaa's grudging little cloudberry flowers, either.

"Are you loving me to spite me?" the Fire Prince accuses.

"Yes," says Kustaa, who parted his hair specifically to show off the new little bud trying so hard to hide.

They don't give the boy to the Earth Kingdom. They forget to scowl while they teach him how to do new things. They stop threatening him, mostly. That shouldn't be all it takes for those little buds to start spreading among the crew.

(The Wani's crew had them, too. Back when the prince was a shouty little thirteen year old monster, they'd taken it as a sign that things would soon get better. Things did not get better. Most of them forgot about those under-developed buds, except on the odd occasion when their combs would jar against them.)

Then they fight a Fire Navy ship, and find the prince curled up as far as he can get from the man he's killed. Kustaa holds him as he shakes, a fire lily in full bloom on his head. It would look ridiculous, if it didn't look so much like blood.

He's not the prince for long after that.

His hair isn't so barren of flowers for long after that, either. Eventually, he even lets his real uncle's bloom find its place among the rest. It doesn't look so overbearing, when it's not so alone.

"I miss him," The boy admits, as they sit on the main mast (as one does).

Somewhere far, but not too far, a tired old man passes his mirror, and catches the impossible flash of something new. A red fire lily, finally unfurled into bloom.

"Zuko," he says.

This neatly accelerates his plans for active treason.

kidnap dads pillow/blanket forts !!! 🥺

48. Pillow/Blanket Forts

Maedhros halted abruptly as soon as he crossed the threshold of the boys’ room. “What are you doing?”

Elrond and Elros froze guiltily. Elrond looked down at the ground, while Elros scrunched up his nose.

“Building a blanket fort?” he said.

A blanket fort? Maedhros blinked, re-examining the mass of pillows shoved beneath chairs, blankets draped over them, the cozy little cavern the twins had created for themselves. He’d done similar things as a child, he recalled, though there had been no concept of “forts” in Aman. It stung his heart to think that they had never known peace, had been born and raised in a land where even forts did not stand for long...

But this would would, this blanket fort within a fortress. Maedhros would defend Amon Ereb, so the children could defend their quilted creation.

“A fort should have defenses,” Maedhros said, crouching down to inspect it. “It should be strong enough to withstand enemy attack. I would know—I held Himring for centuries, and hold Amon Ereb even now.”

Elrond looked up, eyes wide. “Will you help us, Atya?” he blurted out. “So if Atar comes we can—defend it from him?”

Maedhros laughed, ruffling his son’s hair. “Of course,” he said. “First—let’s spread these chairs out, and find some poles and books to build with, so we can expand our fort and I can fit inside...”

~

“What are you doing?” Maglor asked, baffled, as his brother and their sons marched past him with arms full of blankets, books, and...stilts?

The twins scampered on ahead, completely oblivious, but Maedhros paused, a cheery sparkle in his eyes that Maglor hadn’t seen there since...before Fingon died.

“I’m instructing them in siege warfare,” he pronounced. “Keep out of their room for an hour or two, alright? You’ll be playing the enemy, eventually. Just like our drills back in the day!”

“Atya!” Elros called. “C’mon!”

Maedhros grinned—grinned!—and all but pranced away, more excited than Maglor could remember him being in a very long time. A little morbid that it was battle tactics that put such a spring in his step, but, well, that was Maedhros...and Maglor saw the truth. His brother was happy to feel useful, instructing the twins on something important, something he knew well, and able to spend time with his sons as well.

He shook his head with a smile, already turning over ideas of how to play the game along with them. If Maedhros had a hand—hah—in the fort they were building, it would take a little more than knocking over a chair to take it down...not that he’d really do that. He’d let the boys take him hostage.

After all, of the four of them that comprised this strange little family, he was the only one who’d never been kidnapped before!