#fotfictober

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Gríma Wormtongue Additional Tags: There will be additions to the relationships, Eowyn will get to have some fun, Multiple Pov, Manipulation, Psychological Torture, perhaps some physical torture, Saruman is being Saruman, Mind-fuckery, Canon-Typical Violence, Hate Sex, Enemies to Lovers, enemies to ??? to ??lovers??, Seidr, magic~~~, be wary of wizards for they are subtle and quick to anger, Saruman is everyone's favourite local Tower Top, (Eomer disagrees. He says Saruman is the worst and needs to leave Wyrm alone.), no horses are harmed in the making of this fic, you are allowed to become emotionally attached to Isthunn Series: Part 2 of The One Where Grima Lady Macbeths Eomer Into Kingship Summary:

Eomer and Grima are commencing on their risky deal where Grima agrees to play double-agent and spy on Saruman in return for some promise of future safety should Sauron lose. If Sauron and Saruman triumph, and his deception is not discovered, well, Grima is sitting pretty in a position of helping certain people if he feels they've earned it. He and Eomer also continue to mutually live in each other's brains rent free and they're very normal about one another.

Meanwhile, Eowyn decides that it is time to make her mark on world events and strikes out on her own, giving her brother a hundred heart-attacks in the meanwhile. (Don't worry about it, she tells Eomer, I'll be fine.)

Isengard means to attack, Gondor's defenses are weakening, and no one is ready for the war that lies ahead.

---- Obligatory Excerpt: 

Finally, Gríma gives in and speaks: ‘You know, according to legend, it has been achieved.’

‘What’s been achieved?’

‘Outmatching a Wizard.’

‘Right,’ Éomer nods. ‘That girl who ate him.’

Time now for Gríma to give Éomer a queer stare. ‘I’m not sure I know that version.’

Mischievous becomes the Third Marshal who smiles in the firelight. He says, ‘I heard that ending a few years ago, when I was up north in the Wold staying with Lord Framric. The girl thought to be friends with a Wizard, which was her first mistake—’

‘You and Greyhame are plenty friendly.’

Éomer casts a brief glower over to Gríma who takes the hint and hushes himself.

Skald!Eomer is a missed opportunity. Eomer should quit kingship/third marshalling and take up story telling. 

Eomer: friend with wizard, mistake number one. 

Grima: we don’t need your commentary. 

Eomer: tried to learn from wizard, mistake number two. 

Grima: this is very thinly veiled, Eomer. 

Eomer: betrayed country due to weird hard-on for wizard, mistake number three. 

Welcome to #fotfictober! 

October’s monthly challenge is centered around fall-themed drabbles! Make them spooky, cozy, or anything in between! We want to see everyone inspired, but not bogged down by this event.

So remember, you don’t have to spend a lot of time on these (unless you want to!) nor are you required to complete each day. Pick and choose, and if you have a “late” entry, post it anyway! We want to see it. There is no right or wrong about these, just have fun with it!

Be sure to tag #fotfics and #fotfictober so we can find your drabbles!

"Bilbo, have you..." Thorin broke off, staring at the hobbit standing in front of him.  Bilbo was wearing a large shirt and not much else, the hem hanging to his knees and certainly preserving his modesty but...

"What did you need?" Bilbo replied, one eyebrow raising as if to dare Thorin to comment.

"That's... Bilbo!  That's the shirt that you swore to me the laundress had lost!  I love that shirt!"  The hobbit's brows drew down along with the corners of his mouth, though his eyes hinted to a dwarf that was familiar with how to speak hobbit - at least, how to speak this hobbit - that the irritation was partial, provisional and mostly fabricated.

"I beg your pardon," Bilbo replied frostily.  "I said no such thing."

"You told me that it wasn't in the clothes when they were returned -"

"When you asked, it wasn't."  Eyes narrowed dangerously, small hands smoothed the sides of the shirt down.  "I said it wasn't there, I didn't say 'when they were returned'.  You assumed.  This is a quite comfortable shirt to sleep in, and you have dozens of others to wear.  Besides, old and worn as it is, you'd shame Erebor to be seen in it.  Soon enough, the dwarrowdams will be saying that the king doesn't have enough money to clothe himself... or worse yet, that the Consort doesn't care what his husband is out in, and I'll not have that sort of slander spread about me, even if you don't care about your own appearance!"  Thorin gaped at this amazing chain of assumptions, then snorted loudly.  "Besides, I'll... Thorin!"  Bilbo's squawk as he was picked up would have frightened the ravens had they been outside, and the king tucked the hobbit over one shoulder and moved towards the bedroom.  "Put me down this instant!"

Dearest Maalezzo, of course, I can write you a tiny thing for this :D

It's always my pleasure to write something for you...so, here we go...

Until the sun comes up

Words: 546

Warnings: none

“The weather is about to turn,” Kíli whispered as he led you down a narrow, hidden corridor that opened out into a gloomy, deserted hallway, “and they’ll be busy tying down everything that might just be blown away.”

Despite the very real danger he was describing, his small chuckle was bright and full of humour; for a moment, it seemed as if he was not overly worried about his people or their possessions, but then you noticed how forced and hollow his subdued laughter sounded as it echoed through the absolute silence of the corridor.

It is the one hundred and twentieth autumn of the Fourth Age of Middle Earth, and it is Legolas’s last.

Written for @fellowshipofthefics 's Fotfictober event.

Day 2 - Changing of the Leaves

So, I think I didn't quite write the Halloween party you wanted! But hopefully you still like this, especially as it's a little sneak peak at a universe I've yet to write. Love you!

Listen, you said turning suddenly at the gate.

This place is sacred to me. Don't fuck it up.

-Kevin Andrew Heslop, abandoned apple orchard