Merry Lotr Novels & Stories

The air was thick with conflicting scents: beeswax polish, roasting meat, the metallic tang of nervous sweat, and the ever-present, cold breath of the mountain. The eastern lords arrived not as a unified bloc, but in wary, separate contingents, each assessing the others as much as their hosts. Lord Gryffen came with the largest retinue, his men polished and arrogant in silver-and-green livery. With him were Lords Berrick of the southern valleys, a stout, pragmatic man, and the elderly Lady Elara of the lake country, sharp-eyed and silent.

No, you're not," thought Marcus, arms folded and watching the red-haired man with the slightest blink of an eye. -My name is Ruan," said the other, this blond and very cool in his coarse hair and black eyes, "and I am for you as for me. It was this phrase that was irritating Marcus a lot, but he would never show how much this damn code messed with his jealousy. Good thing this is the last one. -My name is Michael," he reminded her of Aragorn from The Lord of the Rings, even in the color and style of his hair and eyes, "and I am to you as myself.

"His name shocked Eryndor 'How has the tree come to know my name?' As he was still regaining his consciousness, Eryndor blurted out: 'Who's there?" Youngling's young greenish leaves trembled, releasing a faint and smothe rustle, as Elderwood's gentle voice enveloped her. 'Eryndor will save me, won't he?' she whispered, her delicate petals unfolding like tiny hands clasped in prayers. A tender shoot of hope sprouted within her, its tender tip reaching for the warmth of promise. Her roots deepened, clinging to the earth, as if unwilling to let go. "May I live long!"

But I hate lying to him. “I like him as a friend. I don’t really feel anything deeper than that.” I added, and just like that, the sparkle in his eyes disappeared. “He is just a kind person. He is kind to everyone. And most of the time, he’s there when I needed him most.” He nodded, but he kept quiet even though I knew that part of him was disappointed. “I heard from my warriors that Merry still continues to make a scene.” I could feel his rage towards our adopted sister. Who am I to blame him when I feel the same thing?

Mhir exclaimed in delight when the view before them became clearer as they approached. It is the Dwarves’ Village! Loheiruchel and Tinum sighed in relief while Mhir loudly laughed as she drove faster, obviously very eager to go home, and wanting to shake off the newborn fairy that was chasing them, from their tail. But, unfortunately, this newborn fairy is very persistent. Mhir can’t help but frown. Obviously, she is pissed. She rarely, and almost never, gets angry but now, she is about to explode since not only will they be followed, they also are about to lead the newborn fairy to their village!

So Ezra was poisoned by someone else? Gimli shakes his head in disgust. “Nasty little waiter. I heard he was from the Southlands. Never did trust those dirty Southlanders.” I frown and bite my lower lip as we walk up the cobblestone stairs. There are so many questions that I want to ask Gimli but how am I to talk without my phone? “And here we are Luna,” Gimli beams proudly as we climb the last step and I find myself standing above ground and in the open air. I close my eyes briefly and lift my face to bathe in the soft rays of the morning light and inhale the scent of freshly cut grass.

His thick beard was matted with the remnants of battle, but his eyes sparkled with unshed tears of joy. From the elven ranks, a slender figure stepped forward, her hands raised to the skies as if to embrace the light that now broke through the clouds. "The darkness has lifted!" she exclaimed, her melodious voice singing above the clamor. Her companions, graceful and solemn, nodded in agreement, their faces alight with a serene happiness.

Honestly I kind of like Ariel, he is so handsome and so soft-spoken, while I was taking time to admire him he stood up and said, "Darius is a monster, beware." I nodded my head to show I heard him clearly as he walked out, I wondered if that is what he had been telling everyone that he had been meeting if that was the case. Well I would say he is at the end of the ladder, well it was time to go back to my room, I still have to explain to L what had happened there. I entered my room and L had already begun to look at the new book, "what is it about I ask?" "A kingdom named Gondor," she answered.

he conceded, "but you play a part; I'm sure of it. I can feel it; like an itch just below my skin." "Oh, I hate those itches," I groaned. "You scratch and scratch and nothing helps." I glanced over and saw him giving me an exasperated look. "I know you're not being literal. I was just trying for some levity." "Next time you should try harder." He grimaced. "Or not at all." "Wonderful." I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the tip, Legolas." "Do not make Lord of the Rings jokes with me," he said seriously. "We Fey, hate that."

Pain laced through Elior’s body as he forced himself upright. The burning sensation where the shadow had struck him lingered, an invisible scar seared into his very soul. His breath came in sharp gasps, his fingers clutching at the damp earth beneath him as he tried to steady himself. The forest was eerily silent now, save for the heavy breathing of his companions. Myrra’s golden magic flickered around her hands, a last lingering defense against whatever had just tried to claim him.