Tolkien-centric blog for Jobot935
On this blog we love The Books, the LOTR films, the Hobbit films, and the Rings of Power TV show. I also ship a lot of things.
Fic account: Purajobot935 @ Ao3
Warnings: non-graphic, consensual sex between adults
Summary: Gilraen reunites with Thranduil in the Woodland Realm. There is a throne.
Prompt: Free Space
Written belatedly for @tolkienpinupcalendar Rare Pair Bingo 2025. When I say this is rare, there are only two fics for this pairing on Ao3 and both are written by me. Here’s hoping more folks come on board.
We’re so glad to be raising funds for this wonderful charity.
All profits from the calendar sales will go directly to marysmeals.org.uk to help them continue their work of delivering a free school meal to hungry kids.
Please help us support them by ordering a calendar (or 2!) when they go on sale.
For the fourth day of the #NumenorFaithfulCalendar artist reveal we have April, for which we have Coco aka @mgcoco, who you can also find over on Bluesky
All profits from this project will go to Mary’s Meals, www.marysmeals.org.uk
Our second character featuring in the #NumenorFaithfulCalendar is ever-loyal Valandil played by the very lovely Alex Tarrant.
Remember, profits from every calendar purchase will be going to Mary's Meals to help provide children in some of the world's poorest countries with a free school meal.
To coincide with this week's #TROPRewatch being a Numenor-centric episode, we're happy to reveal the first of our Faithful characters that will be in our #NumenorFaithfulCalendar.
Our Queen, until the end of her days, Tar-Miriel is so lovely that she will have TWO months dedicated to her!
They work in some of the world's poorest countries to ensure children attend school by offering the promise of a free and nutritious meal. We hope our little calendar can raise some much-needed funds for them.
More: www.marysmeals.org.uk
We are trying hard to keep printing and postage costs as low as we can so that we have more to donate to Mary's Meals. Every calendar ordered helps with reducing the production cost. We will be able to estimate an accurate price once the new financial year starts in April.
Admin @harfootscribbles has helped to fundraised for Mary's Meals before via the wonderful organisation, Toy -Fu, who have raised and donated over £250,000 to them since 2009. Read more about ToyFu here: www.bbc.co.uk/news/article...
Featuring 14 of the most talented artists in the TROP Fandom! With all profits going to the lovely Mary's Meals charity. More details, and participating artists, to be revealed soon!
*(subject to change)
The #NumenorFaithfulCalendar project is the brainchild of islandofnumenor (on bluesky) and @harfootscribbles that started with a couple of bleets, and took off into this very ambitious project.
We hope you'll support it and help us raise some funds for underprivileged kids along the way!
More details will be coming very soon, but in the meantime, if you're just finding out about this, please give us a follow and help us spread the word by reposting this post!
all tolkien related fanfiction is deeply chaotic just in very different ways. like.
the hobbit movies fic authors: due to personal reasons, i will be ignoring everything tolkien ever said about his universe. any elf can choose to be mortal, background regardless. the valar are completely benevolent and directly involved in the affairs of middle earth in the 3rd age. thorin and bilbo are together in the afterlife. try me, bitch.
silmarillion fic authors: this is pwp but i did 8 hours of research to make sure it is canon compliant. it is based on a throwaway line from something john tolkien scribbled on the back of a receipt in 1947. every character mentioned will be dead or eternally damned within a day of this taking place. they are also distantly related and hate each other.
disa/galadriel flirting and sexual tension for @jobot935 on bsky, in response to a liminal week prompt.
Rated T for sexually suggestive content.
*
“No elf has ever stepped foot in this cavern,” Disa says as she hands Galadriel an unlit oil lantern.
“Then I am the first,” Galadriel says.
“Or perhaps the last,” Disa warns.
Galadriel laughs, her voice like a bell bouncing back at her from the stone walls. Disa’s mischievous giggle joins the echo.
Galadriel takes a moment to stop and pin up her long braid, tucking it into a crown around her head and out of her eyes. She gazes up at the cliffs rising high above them on the little outcropping of rock. In the sparse beams of light, she watches the elevators cranking slowly up and down on mile-long chains.
The buildings and elevators are tiny above them. Disa had taken her deep within the mines, though she would not tell her why. Their supplies are only enough for the day, from a cold lunch of bread and cheese to the emergency torches and picks that Durin had insisted they take before sending them off with a wink.
“Are you ready?” Disa asks. Without waiting for an answer, she reaches for Galadriel’s hand and pulls her into the mouth of the cave.
“Should we not light the lantern?” Galadriel asks as they are embraced by darkness. She can see nothing, though she hears Disa’s jewelry jingling with each step.
Disa’s voice echoes back at them. “Not yet, m’dear,” she says, a smile plain in her voice. “You’ll see.”
Disa’s hand is warm in Galadriel’s. Her finger tips are soft in some places but marked with strange callouses in others; Galadriel muses that her work must use stone tools that she has never seen before. Galadriel’s world is the sun and the sword, and Disa’s is the music and the mountain.
“How can you see in this darkness?” Galadriel asks in wonder.
“Oh, it’s a special dwarf power. We can all see quite well in the dark.”
“Really?”
“Oh, Aulë’s beard. You’re worse than Elrond.”
“I suppose I deserve that.”
Disa squeezes Galadriel’s hand. “I have walked this path many times,” Disa says. “I trust it. Mountains are tricky, this one more than most. Yet I feel as though I know this little cave, that every curve and crevasse are in harmony with my own song.”
Galadriel threads her fingers through Disa’s and squeezes. “Then I am all the more excited to see it. I had no idea such beauty could be hidden so far beneath the earth.”
“You have yet to see the cavern!” Disa laughs.
“I spoke not of the cavern, my lady,” Galadriel says, hiding the crook of her smile in the darkness. Disa’s snort of laughter echoes even louder.
“Then I will keep you waiting no longer, before the lack of light starves you further of your wits,” Disa says. She strikes a match and lights the wick of Galadriel’s lantern.
The sparkling light is so blinding after the darkness that Galadriel first wonders how she will ever see. Soon, her eyes adjust, and she is awe-struck by what she sees.
Glittering gemstones encrust the side of the cave. The walls are a blinding sprinkle of sparkling stones, covered in clusters of adamant, rose quartz, red beryl, deep emerald, ruby, sapphire, bright citrine, amethyst, and more. There are so many, she would have to ask Celebrimbor the names, or invent them. In the corner she spots dark onyx, jade, and jasper pooled in shadowy light. On the ceiling, stalactites glisten with blue druzy quartz. The colors are almost too much.
“How is this possible?” Galadriel breathes, turning to stare at the wealth of stones around her. Even the floor is covered in chips and raw gemstones. Galadriel wonders at them as they crunch beneath her feet. “How could so many different stones form in one place?”
“We don’t know,” Disa says quietly, taking the lantern from Galadriel so she can run her fingertip over a nugget of topaz. “The vein was found some centuries ago. It took them fifty years just to widen the opening enough for a dwarf maiden to slip through. Each cluster was chiseled just enough for it to shine.”
“Khazad-dûm is great in wealth indeed if it has such gems hidden beneath the surface as yet untouched by mining,” Galadriel breathes.
Disa shakes her head. “Anyone who’d like to sneak a jewel out of a mine without permission would have to get past me,” Disa says smugly. “Many have tried, but none have succeeded.”
Galadriel hums thoughtfully, taking back the lantern. “Perhaps I will again be the first,” she says haughtily, biting back a smile. The responding sparkle in Disa’s eye outshines the gemstones of the cave.
“If you can sneak one past me, you can keep it,” Disa chuckles.
When Disa smiles, her amber-gold eyes glow as brightly as the Great Tree’s leaves in the spring sunshine.
Galadriel watches the lady dwarf carefully as she shows her each of the gemstones embedded in the rock. Disa speaks to the stones, trilling and singing, then whispers to Galadriel of the vibrations they hum back to her from the mountain.
Galadriel thinks she feels them deep in her chest like a fluttering, living thing trapped inside, but she does not tell Disa in case she thinks her a foolish elf.
Soon, Disa notices how far the wick has burned in the lamp. Together, she and Galadriel leave the shimmering cavern. Disa stops at the mouth to the tunnel before they reach the rock outcropping to the elevator. She blocks Galadriel’s path.
“Okay, cough it up, elf,” Disa says, holding out her hand and waggling her fingers.
“Cough up what?” Galadriel asks, tilting her head to the side. “I do not know what you mean.”
“Fiddlesticks,” Disa says. “Whatever you took, out with it! Or I shall have to search you.”
“Then I suppose I shall have to submit to a search, for I have taken nothing,” Galadriel says, the corner of her mouth twitching.
Disa rolls up her sleeves.
First, she bids the elf to kneel. Galadriel is still as Disa unpins and unties her golden braid. She starts to unravel it at the bottom, threading her fingers through Galadriel’s hair. Galadriel closes her eyes as Disa runs her fingers over her scalp to check for a gem that has been hidden away.
“Did you think I would be so flagrant?” Galadriel asks, looking up at Disa through her eyelashes. Disa tuts.
“Aren’t you always?” Disa asks.
She searches Galadriel’s hands next, plucking her sleeves loose and rolling them up. Disa’s fingers are gentle on Galadriel’s wrists. They trace up her forearms, smoothing down the inside of her elbows and patting down her shoulder sleeves. Galadriel’s dress is thin but practical. Disa’s hands are quick as they skim down her sides and dive into her pockets.
She checks in Galadriel’s ears and even inside her mouth. Her finger presses down on Galadriel’s tongue as she gazes in. Galadriel wants to close her mouth around it on an impulse, but stops herself.
“Stand,” Disa says absentmindedly.
Galadriel bites her lip and swallows, but she gets to her feet. Something has awoken inside her, a feeling not unlike the humming stones in the cave. She feels it dance just underneath her skin.
Disa removes her boots next, searching the lining thoroughly and checking between the treads before she returns them to her feet.
“You seem rather experienced at this,” Galadriel points out, desperate to speak around the unfamiliar lump in her throat.
“I have searched many a foolish and bold dwarf lass as she has left the mines,” Disa says. “You are no different.”
Disa’s hands dip underneath the hem of Galadriel’s skirt to cup her thighs. Galadriel’s voice is strangled as she tries to bite back, “Aren’t I?”
Galadriel tries to close her eyes, but the feeling is worse when her mind is racing through the darkness. As Disa trails her fingers up her thighs, fingers brushing through the soft hair, Galadriel looks down at her bowed head. Her dark brown hair is coiled out of the way of her work, held by little gold pins. A curl has come out of place, and Galadriel wishes to reach out and tuck it away, to pull up Disa’s chin and meet her eye and --
Disa’s quick fingers skate over the soft insides of Galadriel’s thighs. Her breath hitches.
Disa pauses, finally staring up to meet her, as though she is daring Galadriel to stop her. Yet she does not dive under the braies that she wears, instead dragging two hands over the soft linen. It is almost worse not to feel the warm touch of her hand against her skin.
Disa flattens her hand and drags it so quickly between Galadriel’s legs that it is a ghost of a touch. It is all she can do not to buck her hips.
Her heart is pounding now. Disa emerges from beneath her skirts to drag her hands up Galadriel’s stomach.
“Kneel again, dear,” Disa murmurs.
Galadriel folds down onto her knees immediately. Disa skates over her ribcage and hesitates again, until Galadriel reaches behind herself and unties the neck of her dress. She pulls it off her shoulders. The white linen chemise underneath is thin enough to see through. Disa’s lips part in soft surprise.
“I would hear no one say you were not thorough,” Galadriel breathes. She guides Disa’s hands to her breasts. When their cupping touch reveals no hidden gemstones, Disa pulls away. She circles Galadriel and stands behind her to lace up the back of her dress.
“Well, my lady, I must say I am embarrassed to have so rudely accused you of theft,” Disa says, voice thick in the back of her throat.
“Embarassed?” Galadriel repeats. Once she is again laced into her dress, she turns on her knees to take Disa’s hands. “I am rather impressed at your skill. You are quite thorough.”
“Perhaps too thorough?” Disa asks, eyebrow raised.
“Perhaps not thorough enough,” Galadriel admits. With a little cough, she opens her mouth, revealing an adamant on her tongue.
Disa swears in Khuzdul. She reaches forwards to take the rough jewel from her pink tongue and inspect it. “Then the jewel is yours to keep, as promised,” she says. “And a fair one it is at that! Fitting for an elf of such beauty as you.”
Galadriel smiles brightly. “You must let me give you a gift in return,” she replies.
“I will have nothing, dear,” Disa laughs joyfully, taking her hands and clasping the adamant inside Galadriel’s fingers.
“Nonsense. Close your eyes,” Galadriel whispers, “For I would very much like to kiss you, but I find I cannot bear to look away when your gaze is upon me.”
Disa’s lips are warm against hers. Galadriel wraps her arms around her waist. She kisses her softly until she loses feeling in her knees and the oil lamp begins to splutter out.
disa/galadriel flirting and sexual tension for @jobot935 on bsky, in response to a liminal week prompt.
Rated T for sexually suggestive content.
*
“No elf has ever stepped foot in this cavern,” Disa says as she hands Galadriel an unlit oil lantern.
“Then I am the first,” Galadriel says.
“Or perhaps the last,” Disa warns.
Galadriel laughs, her voice like a bell bouncing back at her from the stone walls. Disa’s mischievous giggle joins the echo.
Galadriel takes a moment to stop and pin up her long braid, tucking it into a crown around her head and out of her eyes. She gazes up at the cliffs rising high above them on the little outcropping of rock. In the sparse beams of light, she watches the elevators cranking slowly up and down on mile-long chains.
The buildings and elevators are tiny above them. Disa had taken her deep within the mines, though she would not tell her why. Their supplies are only enough for the day, from a cold lunch of bread and cheese to the emergency torches and picks that Durin had insisted they take before sending them off with a wink.
“Are you ready?” Disa asks. Without waiting for an answer, she reaches for Galadriel’s hand and pulls her into the mouth of the cave.
“Should we not light the lantern?” Galadriel asks as they are embraced by darkness. She can see nothing, though she hears Disa’s jewelry jingling with each step.
Disa’s voice echoes back at them. “Not yet, m’dear,” she says, a smile plain in her voice. “You’ll see.”
Disa’s hand is warm in Galadriel’s. Her finger tips are soft in some places but marked with strange callouses in others; Galadriel muses that her work must use stone tools that she has never seen before. Galadriel’s world is the sun and the sword, and Disa’s is the music and the mountain.
“How can you see in this darkness?” Galadriel asks in wonder.
“Oh, it’s a special dwarf power. We can all see quite well in the dark.”
“Really?”
“Oh, Aulë’s beard. You’re worse than Elrond.”
“I suppose I deserve that.”
Disa squeezes Galadriel’s hand. “I have walked this path many times,” Disa says. “I trust it. Mountains are tricky, this one more than most. Yet I feel as though I know this little cave, that every curve and crevasse are in harmony with my own song.”
Galadriel threads her fingers through Disa’s and squeezes. “Then I am all the more excited to see it. I had no idea such beauty could be hidden so far beneath the earth.”
“You have yet to see the cavern!” Disa laughs.
“I spoke not of the cavern, my lady,” Galadriel says, hiding the crook of her smile in the darkness. Disa’s snort of laughter echoes even louder.
“Then I will keep you waiting no longer, before the lack of light starves you further of your wits,” Disa says. She strikes a match and lights the wick of Galadriel’s lantern.
The sparkling light is so blinding after the darkness that Galadriel first wonders how she will ever see. Soon, her eyes adjust, and she is awe-struck by what she sees.
Glittering gemstones encrust the side of the cave. The walls are a blinding sprinkle of sparkling stones, covered in clusters of adamant, rose quartz, red beryl, deep emerald, ruby, sapphire, bright citrine, amethyst, and more. There are so many, she would have to ask Celebrimbor the names, or invent them. In the corner she spots dark onyx, jade, and jasper pooled in shadowy light. On the ceiling, stalactites glisten with blue druzy quartz. The colors are almost too much.
“How is this possible?” Galadriel breathes, turning to stare at the wealth of stones around her. Even the floor is covered in chips and raw gemstones. Galadriel wonders at them as they crunch beneath her feet. “How could so many different stones form in one place?”
“We don’t know,” Disa says quietly, taking the lantern from Galadriel so she can run her fingertip over a nugget of topaz. “The vein was found some centuries ago. It took them fifty years just to widen the opening enough for a dwarf maiden to slip through. Each cluster was chiseled just enough for it to shine.”
“Khazad-dûm is great in wealth indeed if it has such gems hidden beneath the surface as yet untouched by mining,” Galadriel breathes.
Disa shakes her head. “Anyone who’d like to sneak a jewel out of a mine without permission would have to get past me,” Disa says smugly. “Many have tried, but none have succeeded.”
Galadriel hums thoughtfully, taking back the lantern. “Perhaps I will again be the first,” she says haughtily, biting back a smile. The responding sparkle in Disa’s eye outshines the gemstones of the cave.
“If you can sneak one past me, you can keep it,” Disa chuckles.
When Disa smiles, her amber-gold eyes glow as brightly as the Great Tree’s leaves in the spring sunshine.
Galadriel watches the lady dwarf carefully as she shows her each of the gemstones embedded in the rock. Disa speaks to the stones, trilling and singing, then whispers to Galadriel of the vibrations they hum back to her from the mountain.
Galadriel thinks she feels them deep in her chest like a fluttering, living thing trapped inside, but she does not tell Disa in case she thinks her a foolish elf.
Soon, Disa notices how far the wick has burned in the lamp. Together, she and Galadriel leave the shimmering cavern. Disa stops at the mouth to the tunnel before they reach the rock outcropping to the elevator. She blocks Galadriel’s path.
“Okay, cough it up, elf,” Disa says, holding out her hand and waggling her fingers.
“Cough up what?” Galadriel asks, tilting her head to the side. “I do not know what you mean.”
“Fiddlesticks,” Disa says. “Whatever you took, out with it! Or I shall have to search you.”
“Then I suppose I shall have to submit to a search, for I have taken nothing,” Galadriel says, the corner of her mouth twitching.
Disa rolls up her sleeves.
First, she bids the elf to kneel. Galadriel is still as Disa unpins and unties her golden braid. She starts to unravel it at the bottom, threading her fingers through Galadriel’s hair. Galadriel closes her eyes as Disa runs her fingers over her scalp to check for a gem that has been hidden away.
“Did you think I would be so flagrant?” Galadriel asks, looking up at Disa through her eyelashes. Disa tuts.
“Aren’t you always?” Disa asks.
She searches Galadriel’s hands next, plucking her sleeves loose and rolling them up. Disa’s fingers are gentle on Galadriel’s wrists. They trace up her forearms, smoothing down the inside of her elbows and patting down her shoulder sleeves. Galadriel’s dress is thin but practical. Disa’s hands are quick as they skim down her sides and dive into her pockets.
She checks in Galadriel’s ears and even inside her mouth. Her finger presses down on Galadriel’s tongue as she gazes in. Galadriel wants to close her mouth around it on an impulse, but stops herself.
“Stand,” Disa says absentmindedly.
Galadriel bites her lip and swallows, but she gets to her feet. Something has awoken inside her, a feeling not unlike the humming stones in the cave. She feels it dance just underneath her skin.
Disa removes her boots next, searching the lining thoroughly and checking between the treads before she returns them to her feet.
“You seem rather experienced at this,” Galadriel points out, desperate to speak around the unfamiliar lump in her throat.
“I have searched many a foolish and bold dwarf lass as she has left the mines,” Disa says. “You are no different.”
Disa’s hands dip underneath the hem of Galadriel’s skirt to cup her thighs. Galadriel’s voice is strangled as she tries to bite back, “Aren’t I?”
Galadriel tries to close her eyes, but the feeling is worse when her mind is racing through the darkness. As Disa trails her fingers up her thighs, fingers brushing through the soft hair, Galadriel looks down at her bowed head. Her dark brown hair is coiled out of the way of her work, held by little gold pins. A curl has come out of place, and Galadriel wishes to reach out and tuck it away, to pull up Disa’s chin and meet her eye and --
Disa’s quick fingers skate over the soft insides of Galadriel’s thighs. Her breath hitches.
Disa pauses, finally staring up to meet her, as though she is daring Galadriel to stop her. Yet she does not dive under the braies that she wears, instead dragging two hands over the soft linen. It is almost worse not to feel the warm touch of her hand against her skin.
Disa flattens her hand and drags it so quickly between Galadriel’s legs that it is a ghost of a touch. It is all she can do not to buck her hips.
Her heart is pounding now. Disa emerges from beneath her skirts to drag her hands up Galadriel’s stomach.
“Kneel again, dear,” Disa murmurs.
Galadriel folds down onto her knees immediately. Disa skates over her ribcage and hesitates again, until Galadriel reaches behind herself and unties the neck of her dress. She pulls it off her shoulders. The white linen chemise underneath is thin enough to see through. Disa’s lips part in soft surprise.
“I would hear no one say you were not thorough,” Galadriel breathes. She guides Disa’s hands to her breasts. When their cupping touch reveals no hidden gemstones, Disa pulls away. She circles Galadriel and stands behind her to lace up the back of her dress.
“Well, my lady, I must say I am embarrassed to have so rudely accused you of theft,” Disa says, voice thick in the back of her throat.
“Embarassed?” Galadriel repeats. Once she is again laced into her dress, she turns on her knees to take Disa’s hands. “I am rather impressed at your skill. You are quite thorough.”
“Perhaps too thorough?” Disa asks, eyebrow raised.
“Perhaps not thorough enough,” Galadriel admits. With a little cough, she opens her mouth, revealing an adamant on her tongue.
Disa swears in Khuzdul. She reaches forwards to take the rough jewel from her pink tongue and inspect it. “Then the jewel is yours to keep, as promised,” she says. “And a fair one it is at that! Fitting for an elf of such beauty as you.”
Galadriel smiles brightly. “You must let me give you a gift in return,” she replies.
“I will have nothing, dear,” Disa laughs joyfully, taking her hands and clasping the adamant inside Galadriel’s fingers.
“Nonsense. Close your eyes,” Galadriel whispers, “For I would very much like to kiss you, but I find I cannot bear to look away when your gaze is upon me.”
Disa’s lips are warm against hers. Galadriel wraps her arms around her waist. She kisses her softly until she loses feeling in her knees and the oil lamp begins to splutter out.
"you're the writer, you control how the story goes" no not really. i wrote the first sentence and then my characters said "WE WILL TAKE IT FROM HERE" and promptly swerved into an electrical fence.
I honestly think Gen-Z and younger simply does not understand how recent widespread smartphone adoption is.
I am not that old, and I didn't have a smartphone until probably late high school. For most of my life, many if not most people were not walking around with a magic internet machine in their pocket that they pulled out and used constantly for everything.
