#obscuredurins

[thatshadowintheuniverse]

@obscuredurins Thrór march | «» Love ✧ Family «» Better times for King Thrór, when he ruled under the mountain.🐦‍⬛👑

[isilme-among-the-stars]

Under Agate Skies

I'm so excited to share the story I've been working on for Disability Pride Month with you all! It's a bit of a personal one, and grew out of the frustrations of living day to day with energy-limiting chronic illness. For all those out there who are dealing with similar (or have your own experiences with illness or disability, no matter what they are) I hope it can be an encouragement. Here's the first chapter, with more to come throughout July.

There is a meadow, high upon one of the ridges overlooking this valley that Erestor loves. Harebells and crocus bloom a riot of purple to carpet the grassy slopes, and the scents of juniper and pine linger in the air. Above, the firmament stretches high and wide, more vast and complete in the lofts of the foothills than in the valley, as if a giant had stretched sky like a coverlet over the land. Erestor can only reach it on good days, if he plans carefully, budgeting strength as a steward might grain in times of scarcity. Such a hike is an expense that he can seldom afford. It has been many years now, since last he stood on that ridge. On days like today, Erestor fears he never will again.

Erestor finds himself thrust into adventure when Elrond requests his company escorting Arwen to Minas Tirith after the War of the Ring is won. All too aware of the chronic illness that has bound his friend to Rivendell for the past several centuries, Glorfindel has some concerns. Erestor, aware of the risks, is going anyway.

Read it on A03.

[arofili]

back to middle-earth month 3/12/26 | 2014: four seasons of middle-earth | autumn ⏾⋆.˚ durin's day @obscuredurins thrór march | grief 𖤓 departure 𖤓 saying goodbye

          It was Midsummer’s Eve in Dunland when Thrór put his pen to the map of the Lonely Mountain. A crescent moon shone above, just a sliver of silver lighting the mithril ink upon the page. Precious few treasures had been smuggled out of Erebor as it burned, but this pen of ithildin had been in his pocket when he escaped...

—moon-letters (gen, 335 words)

[kotaka-kun]

sharing this again since its disability pride month! :)

agnurkâmin

Chosen by Mahal to be given extra care in their making, kanugagnurkâmin were considered to be some of the closest of all to their Maker, for they still remained of the sacred stone they were carved from. Sturdy and steadfast and unchanging in their duty, their devotion to their craft.

dwalin / autistic!nori | rated G | 1,033 words

[arofili]

Friendships False and Firm

Thrór leads his people back to Erebor - but the dwarves who never left are not all happy to see their King return.

For Back to Middle-earth Month 2026, Day 7! Today's prompt was Belegost from 2011's Passport to Middle-earth event, with the challenge to create something where the characters reach across barriers.

Additionally, this is a submission for @obscuredurins' Thrór March event, using the prompts Refounding Erebor and Love.

Rating: G | No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nár & Thrór Characters: Nár, Thrór, Grór, Borin, Dwarf OCs, Dwarves of Belegost Word count: 2k

READ IT ON AO3!

[isilme-among-the-stars]

Under Agate Skies: Lothlórien

Chapter 3: In which Erestor recovers and, still weary and sore, journeys on to Minas Tirith.

Summer creeps steadily toward the land as Erestor stands at the threshold between Lothlórien’s bounds and the wide world, gazing across the polished-sheen waters of the Limlight to the weary miles ahead as the large company begins to ford the river. Gone are misty, chill mornings of spring, replaced by balmy warmth, like to a workshop with kindled forge. The sky shining jubilantly above is fluorite-clear and very bright. Minas Tirith seems impossibly far. “Strange,” Celeborn muses beside him, “to bask in the first blush of summer when in my heart it is Winter that approaches, for Lothlórien, my home.” Plagued, already, by sour awareness of the dread days of exhaustion yet to come, and sympathetic to the dissonance of bleakness set against warmth, Erestor offers a grim smile in solidarity. “You put on a stoic face, Erestor, yet I think you are not quite so recovered as you wish to seem. This journey is a sore trial, I believe.” “I have no wish to bemoan that which I have, of my own free will, chosen.” “No, and yet, if I am not mistaken, you teeter on the edge of despair at the thought of the road stretching before your feet. I am well acquainted with failing hope, Counsellor. I was there when Eregion fell, and Doriath long before. Too many times have I seen the look you presently wear on the faces of others.” “And yet, walk this road I will.”

Read it on A03. Or start from the beginning.

[isilme-among-the-stars]

Under Agate Skies: Redhorn Pass

Chapter 2: In which Erestor tries his strength passing over Caradhras.

Redhorn’s paths are steep and broken; passable, but difficult, and demanding far more effort than even the rough land between Imladris and Hollin ridge. Often, Erestor is forced to dismount and lead his horse, picking paths carefully past tumbled boulders, or around sudden, deep breaks in the road. The expenditure weighs on him until it feels as if heavy bags of scree were fastened to his ankles, and his feet drag clumsily over the uneven terrain. More than once, Erestor stumbles, and is righted by one companion or another. The cost, he is painfully aware, shall be exacted from him in bedridden days and the clouding of all reasoned thought should the present strain continue for long. There is, however, little choice: to go back is as costly an endeavour as forward, and to stop indefinitely in the pass is no choice at all.

Read it on A03. Or start from the beginning.