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The One Ring Forums: Tolkien Topics: Fan Art:
Epilogue of the CONSPIRACY


Apr 16 2016, 1:59am

Post #1 of 7 (1672 views)
Epilogue of the CONSPIRACY Can't Post

E.g., the END of a thread that started in the main Hobbit board, re the SHOCKING attempt by members of the Company to stage a coup, and far worse, DEBASE the sacred mane of the Mountain King. Oh, and there were the usual group of Hair Freaks and Fang-gir-iells.

And this is FLUFF. Fluffy mad non-canon fluff fluffCool. And also some *gratuitous* Thorin pics. Because he's beautiful.Cool

Thorin Oakenshield laid a warning hand on the head of the great white warg nestled against his boots, as the powerful beast pricked her ears and a snarl began to rumble in her chest. Thorin couldn’t blame Daisy, really. It was taking all of his powers of #Majesty to maintain a suitably distant and regal expression – and oh, the SMELL. The King Under the Mountain had been assaulted by many unpleasant sights and sounds and smells over the years; blood, death, the close company of hairy unwashed dwarves for weeks at a time. But there was nothing to rival this odor that drifted through the vast verdant halls of Erebor, and was now wrapping around his throne room like the wafting draperies at Rivendell.

By the Valar, Thorin thought, I need to have more air shafts cut into this palace. As in, this afternoon. Or maybe just have a hole blown through the roof – as usual, Gandalf is never around when you need him.

Beside the Mountain King, seated in smaller thrones, Thorin’s Heirs didn’t even attempt to maintain a semblance of #Majesty – Fili and Kilis’ mouths were hanging open as they fought for breath, and they glanced at each other and their uncle in anxious desperation. Fili, in particular, well knew that a future king must be prepared to cope with anything, but at the moment he was failing miserably. Loyal Dwalin reached to grip the shoulder of the Crown Prince to steady him, even as Dwalin’s own eyes streamed. The shimmering light of the Arkenstone mounted high on the throne seemed dimmed with the haze, when normally its light sparkled like sunlight on water.

The sudden silence was broken by a moan of anguish from Bilbo Baggins, who had buried his face against the strong arm of the King Under the Mountain (this to the everlasting delight of ‘shippers around the world, who promptly began to scribe more *unholy imaginings*Shocked). Thorin patted his Hobbit comfortingly as Bilbo raised his tearing eyes pleadingly to him. Bilbo wheezed, fighting for breath. “By the Valar,” Bilbo coughed in despair, “Why do I never have a pocket handkerchief when I need one?” He buried his face in Thorin’s royal mantle again.

His #Majesty had already been irritated simply by the *unexpected* interruption to the kick-off of the festivities that would initiate the new charity auction, before Thorin even knew what the issue was. Eager bidders were already lined up, and the party preparations were in full swing. Bilbo Baggins, as Honorary Dwarf and Friend to the King, was to be the Master of Ceremonies, and had traveled all the way from the Shire for the event.

For the famous Hair of the Durins, since the reclamation of Erebor, had flourished with the combination of the cool mountain air, fresh water, abundant food, and ministrations of the Fang-gir-iells. Thorin Oakenshield’s hair, already rather notorious for its ability to drive the susceptible to madnessCool, had been officially decreed to be a “Wonder of the Ancient World”. It now fell to his waist, and shimmered like polished tiger eye, obsidian, and mithril altogether, and cloaked Thorin’s shoulders like a summer night sky. Fili’s hair had grown out with thick rippling waves, and shone so golden, it hurt to look upon. And Kil’s hair tossed in silken deep chestnut abandon, so it seemed akin to the wings of the great eagles, or the clouds ahead of a storm.

Indeed, so glorious was the Hair of the Durins, that the Khazad muttered (tho not within Dwalin’s hearing) that the strange magics of the Forest King were tainting the line of Durin – for Thranduil was too frequent a visitor to Erebor for the comfort of some. Even at the moment, the Lord of the Forest stood nearby like living moonlight, implacable, although he unbent enough to offer a choking Balin a length of silky elven cloth.

But the unreal state of the Hair of the Durins came from a far more prosaic reason than “elven magic”. For the besotted, ever-attentive Fang-gir-iells, fretting over the health of their beloved Durins, had instantly seen the innate possibilities in the thick mounds of bat guano left behind after the purging of the orcs from Angmar. GOLD, thought the ecologically sensitive Fang-gir-iells. BLACK gold. Compost.

Thorin Oakenshield had been dubious as to the value of any creature’s “leavings”, but a letter from his Hobbit assured him that, in fact, the Fang-gir-iells were correct – that here was an opportunity for a richness unparalleled in the history of the dwarves. And the Mountain King had mouths to feed, and more arrived at Erebor every day.

The new king of Dale was also enthusiastic. “It’s just, like, droppings, and you have plenty of space and carts and stuff,” Bard told Thorin over mugs of ale on a sunny afternoon. The two kings were lounging in their chairs against a stone wall in the rapidly rebuilding Dale, idly watching Gloin yelling at some builders for being sloppy in their work. “Besides, the winters here are long and cold, and I’ve got folks coming in from the outlying areas as well. We can’t just live on fish and meat and bread, like the dwarves. And just think – we could grow grain and fruit and like that and make our own microbrews!”

So the Fang-gir-iells had shoveled, and tended their steaming heaps, and when the time was right, some of them made the long journey to Fangorn Forest, protected by men and dwarves and elves. And the elves sang, and eventually the great Treebeard met with the ladies, and the Fang-gir-iells returned to Eerbor with a trade contract and barrels of the Waters of the Ents. And now the Silver Fountains of the King Under the Mountain were thought to have healing powers (and those that drank the water, and rinsed their hair with it, had the locks of those only seen in commercials). Certainly the Hair of the Durins, at this point, was nothing that had been seen before on the earth, and ne’er would be again.

And it came about, at the fervent behest of the Fang-gir-iells, that the Durins would graciously sacrifice inches of their shining manes, to be encased in the finest woods and metals, and auctioned in support of charity and for the new Middle Earth museum. Even Thranduil had contributed his share of impossibly silken shimmering strands earlier, although his hair flowed in its usual waterfall cascade, and seemed uncut. (This caused some to whisper about vampires, but the general consensus was that if Thranduil were to visit in the night, he would be MOST welcome, and there are worse ways to spend eternity.)

Oin had just been about to produce a pair of honed silver scissors, to trim the hair of a laughing Kili, when things were interrupted by fisher-folk of Bard’s asking for an urgent audience. They’d found something in their nets, which had been swept into a swampy area after a hard rain, and had gotten all tangled in muck.

Thorin glared as he put a comforting arm around his Hobbit.

Because, sodden, thin, shivering, surrounded by a miasma that Thorin was certain was causing pitting in the finely polished green marble of his home, here were the missing conspirators, sniveling before him. And now, the King thought irritably, he was going to have his hands full, and unfortunately it wouldn’t be because he was hugging a besotted Fang-gir-iell who was telling him how handsome he wasTongue (Thorin had heard that before, of course, and while he didn’t think on it much, it was still nice to hear after all the STUFF he had had to put up with).

No, Thorin thought, I’m going to have my hands full protecting these traitors (assuming I don’t just prepare them for the ravens personally), because not only are they traitors and any number of my people AND these rabid Fang-gir-iells AND my Daisy want to introduce them to some very sharp things, they don’t even LOOK like dwarves. They look WEIRD.

Bofur, in fact, looks like a butterfly. I guess Thranduil was right about the Forest doing odd things to those who get lost. REALLY odd. The Mountain King shifted his glance to Thranduil, who smiled blandly back at him, shining faintly with impossible, dangerous, beauty.

The four conspirators stood miserably. The fastidious Dori’s appearance was shocking – there was no sign of his characteristic careful braids, and silver hair hung in greasy strands around his face. His skin had a peculiar mottled green tinge, as though he were covered in mold. Bifur, perhaps not surprisingly, didn’t look all that different, perhaps more ragged (tho it can be difficult to tell, with Bifur) but his eyes were flashing kaleidoscope colors.

But Bofur and Nori were the worst. It wasn’t the ratty, unkempt, hair, or the rotted clothes. In fact, it was just as well there were holes in their clothes. Otherwise the rags would never have fit over the wings.

Bofur apparently had acquired something like a pair of butterfly wings, which hung limply from his shoulders and were a sullen purple-black. They seemed to flap a bit and twitch of their own volition. And Nori – Thorin closed his eyes briefly at the spectacle – Nori looked like one of those insects that just flit over a pond, with stiff gauzy wings that looked rather bent and battered.

Mahal save me, thought Thorin. Every time I look at him, I want to step on him. Or get the servants to get a flyswatter.

Thorin turned gratefully to the sound of his Hobbit’s voice. “Ghrfvn ncnbre ozxdegh mfexhse!” Bilbo exclaimed through the leather of Thorin’s glove pressed against his nose and mouth (thinking quickly, Bilbo had handily appropriated the Royal Gloves he had found tucked into Thorin’s robe). The fine leather made breathing MUCH easier, at the moment.

“I’m sorry, Bilbo, I don’t understand,” Thorin said worriedly, wondering if the traitors were carrying something contagious that was affecting his gentle Hobbit.

“I said,” Bilbo gasped, risking pulling the leather away from his mouth temporarily. “They’ve become FAIRIES! Forest fairies! There are old tales and legends – in fact, supposedly an ancestor of mine had a fairy-wife! – on the Took side of course.” Bilbo then quickly firmly pressed the glove against his mouth and nose again.

Thorin stared at his Hobbit blankly as he took this in, and then returned his glare to the four traitors. Great, Thorin thought grimly. Hairy dwarf forest FAIRIES. My grandfather would have just dropped them in the forges, all things considered, and dared them to see they could fly away with their FAIRY MAGIC on their sparkly wings. And by Mahal, it’s not as though Orcrist could not use a workout – or perhaps, though I am called “the Darer” and none doubt my courage, perhaps, just once, I could opt out and toss this whole mess to Fili…

Thorin’s musings were broken by the smooth purring voice of Thranduil. “I can assure you, that these CREATURES have most emphatically NOT become something akin to mine own kind,” Thranduil said lazily. “They are merely – AFFLICTED, for lack of a better term. In time, away from my realm, the effects of the Forest will fade. For the most part. They may have developed a fondness for GREENS, for instance. Or ‘shrooms. But, should you choose to detain them here, you will have your dwarves back. Eventually.”

At this, the eyes of the conspirators fixed hopefully, fearfully, on Thorin Oakenshield, in spite of his glare. Thorin breathed in a great breath, preparing to render judgement. His word was absolute, here. But the King once again heard the voice of his Hobbit, albeit a tad nasally.

“Thorin”, Bilbo said gently. Bilbo gazed deeply into those cerulean eyes that haunted so many. “Thorin. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. They DID follow you, to the end. They were going to DIE for you. And you know – it was all so MAD then, and you were here, but not here, and nothing they ever did would have made it right, anyway.”

Fili reached over Bilbo to lay a hand on his uncle’s arm. “I know you want to protect us. But you never could protect us forever.” He fought back a cough and squeezed Thorin’s arm.

On Thorin’s other side, Kili snuggled against his uncle’s side (which, conveniently, helped him get away from the smell, because Thorin smells like spices and smoke and wineTongue). “Honestly, uncle. I mean, I KIND of know what it’s like, you know, for a long time, because Fili was older and the ladies would look at him and whisper about his golden hair and blue eyes (Fili flushed a bit at this) and you’ve driven a lot a folks crazy, in a good way mostly, but sometimes you love something and it gets all messed up.”

Surprisingly, Dwalin added, “Aye, and it be harder to live with stupidity, by Mahal, just look at them! I’d be ashamed to take me axe to them.”

The King Under the Mountain blew out a great sigh. He looked at Balin, who nodded wisely, and said quietly, “It’s your right, to take their lives. But Bombur and Ori would be grateful, if you could find it in you to spare them”. He looked at Bard, who quirked his mouth and shrugged (thinking of Alfrid). Then at Thranduil, who calmly looked back, although there was a hint of a smile in his fey eyes. “It’s said that elves are magic – perhaps, as mortals understand. So this much I will say – if you choose to let them stay, and heal, there is no threat here. Being lost in the Forest can teach one many things.”

Finally, the Mountain King looked down at Bilbo. Thorin thought then...and I had to learn many things too…“It’s not very DWARVISH, IF I were to POSSIBLY pardon them, especially after that talk of making my hair into a SWEATER…so UNMAJESTIC…” Thorin began to mildly grumble. But he was cut off by Bilbo and Fili and Kili most un-#Majestically throwing themselves at the Mountain King and madly hugging him and Daisy actually wagging her tail. The four conspirators began to cry as the Fang-gir-iells applauded.

Thorin Oakenshield looked over the heads of his snuggling family members (of which Bilbo is one, of course) and waved his retainers over. “Oin, would you mind? Hose them down, feed them, and THEN get them into a bath, etc. Fili and I will talk with them later.”

“In the meantime, perhaps we could persuade our burglar to do the Hair honors? Just about eight inches off for me, I should think…”

And in the end, the Hair Auction was widely successful; in particular the combined display of Thorin and Thranduils’ locks was fiercely fought over in a frenzied bidding war. It took time, for dwarves are loyal to a fault, but Bofur, Bifur, Nori, and Dori were eventually reunited with Bombur and Ori, respectively, and faithfully served the Mountain King to the end of their days. Indeed, Bofur and Nori’s “fairy wings” fell off while under Oin’s care (probably with a little help from Thranduil) and were auctioned off the following year for a good price, purchased by none other than Sir Peter Jackson.

After all, it was always about thirteen dwarves. And a Halfling.Angelic

Credit: Evankart


(This post was edited by Avandel on Apr 16 2016, 2:00am)


Apr 17 2016, 12:54am

Post #2 of 7 (1614 views)
All's well that ends well [In reply to] Can't Post

And those were some great pics, too!EvilHeart

Proud member of the BOFA Denial Association


Apr 17 2016, 8:23am

Post #3 of 7 (1603 views)
Grinning all the way [In reply to] Can't Post

So many wonderful things...! (Even organic compost! Tongue)

The famous Hair of the Durins in even greater gloryHeart - and Thranduil, "like living moonlight" (and this is what we mean by some folks being able to paint a living picture by just three words).
"but the general consensus was that if Thranduil were to visit in the night, he would be MOST welcome, and there are worse ways to spend eternity." Evil
Kíli to Thorin: "you’ve driven a lot a folks crazy, in a good way mostly" Angelic
"Being lost in the Forest can teach one many things." A universal truth! (One that will come up in certain mythology-themed threads in Off Topic, later - even if it's only "a forest" then).
And of course, those hairy dwarf forest FAIRIES... LaughLaughLaugh I can see them in my mind but am not so sure I want to!

Thank you for the unexpected Epilogue! Tongue

(unknown, from pinterest)

Grey Havens

Apr 17 2016, 11:58am

Post #4 of 7 (1592 views)
That was great [In reply to] Can't Post

Wonderful to be back in Erebor. And I totally missed the first part and had to go look for it after reading this!!! Your fluff is pure Ereborian gold as always, Avandel. Of course, we should have KNOWN that Ent Water would eventually meet the already magnificent cascades of Durin hair - it was a match made by the Valar, but the effect on the Fang-gir-iells would be dangerously overpowering. I'm guessing the dwarves would have to build them a "safe room" somewhere, with quiet music and the sound of tinkling water and perhaps a slight whiff of soothing incense, accompanied by a nice pot a chamomile tea, when the sight of all those gleaming, flowing luscious locks was just too much for their blood pressure. And maybe an on-site masseuse on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays (as long as it wasn't one of the Durins - that would be counter-productive) and some nice poetry readings on Sunday evenings (the elves could handle that) with some of Bilbo's scones and seed cakes or maybe a nice cup of Bombur's soup... Come to think of it, I want to go there now!

Oh well, there's no better way to start a Sunday morning than with a cup of tea and visit with the Mountain King. Loved it! Thank you Smile


Gold is the strife of kinsmen,
and fire of the flood-tide,
and the path of the serpent.

Grey Havens

Apr 17 2016, 12:17pm

Post #5 of 7 (1595 views)
If the Valar placed Thorin in the heavens... [In reply to] Can't Post

this is what his hair would look like:

Asperatus Clouds Over New Zealand


Smile Heart Wink


Gold is the strife of kinsmen,
and fire of the flood-tide,
and the path of the serpent.


Apr 17 2016, 5:46pm

Post #6 of 7 (1579 views)
Oh, man..... [In reply to] Can't Post

Known informally as Undulatus asperatus clouds, they can be stunning in appearance, unusual in occurrence, are relatively unstudied (well, I would disagree with that LOL....Angelic), and have even been suggested as a new type of cloud. Whereas most low cloud decks are flat bottomed, asperatus clouds appear to have significant vertical structure underneath (*cough*Evil). Speculation therefore holds that asperatus clouds might be related to lenticular clouds that form near mountains, or mammatus clouds associated with thunderstorms, or perhaps a foehn wind -- a type of dry downward wind that flows off mountains.Heart

Yes indeed.Cool


Apr 17 2016, 5:59pm

Post #7 of 7 (1571 views)
*bows* LOL [In reply to] Can't Post

Tho I hafta admit SOME of this has been triggered by a commercial here, whose tagline is "that's some good dirt..." - except, yah know, I found this stuff for half price that's even better without added fertilizer; e.g., it's some good dirt.Cool

Thank you I hope it was fun!Smile I dunno about hairy dwarf fairiesCrazy - that's some picture in my headLaugh. Maybe sort of the effect of Beorn's giant bees? Madness. But that sort of goes with the territory around the Durins....Laugh


PS. Peter Hollens has done another version of "I See Fire", this time with a violin accompanying - very cool!HeartHeartHeart

"I see fire on the mountainside...."

I like him doing his vids in costume - awesome! (I swear one day I am going to fan edit this w. scenes from the film - needs some FLAME....)

(This post was edited by Avandel on Apr 17 2016, 6:10pm)


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