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๐•พ๐จ๐ง๐  ๐–”๐–‹ ๐•พ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐–†๐–“๐–‰ ๐•ฒ๐จ๐ฅ๐

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โ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ ๐ฎ๐š๐ซ๐ ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ก๐ž๐š๐ซ๐ญ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐จ๐œ๐ž๐š๐ง ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐
๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ก๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐ฆ๐ž ๐ญ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ, ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐ฆ๐ž ๐›๐š๐œ๐ค ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ž
๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ? โž


















ใ€Ž ๐’๐˜๐๐Ž๐๐’๐ˆ๐’ ใ€
โ Lady Alassaran of Imladris had lived long and seen much of the world. She had seen the rise and fall of the great evil that was Sauron during the Second Age. She had witnessed her home reduced to rubble and her brother taken by the flames of the dragon Smaug. She had seen Erebor descend into fire when the serpent attacked. Her eyes, some said, had seen too much, and what she had seen left scars on both her skin and soul. The elves of Rivendell called her Naerien, the lady of sorrow.

She was reduced to a shell of who she had once been, her spirit locked away by the horrors only seen in times of old. No longer were her green eyes full of life, her skin warmed by the sun, or her voice ringing through the halls of the House of Elrond. Naerien was a ghost, a specter destined to haunt Imladris until the weight of her grief consumed her completely.

Or so they thought.

When the Grey Pilgrim arrives in Rivendell accompanied by thirteen dwarves and a peculiar half-ling by the name of Bilbo Baggins, Lord Elrond convinces Naerien to join them on their journey to reclaim the Lonely Mountain in hopes that he will see the life she once had restored.

He can only pray she will survive it. โž


















ใ€Ž ๐‚๐€๐’๐“ ใ€

๐™ก๐™š๐™ฃ๐™– ๐™๐™š๐™–๐™™๐™š๐™ฎ ๐™–๐™จ
๐•ฌ๐ฅ๐š๐ฌ๐ฌ๐š๐ซ๐š๐ง ๐•น๐š๐ž๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ง

โ ๐‡๐„๐ˆ๐‘ ๐“๐Ž ๐€ ๐“๐‡๐‘๐Ž๐๐„ ๐Ž๐… ๐‘๐”๐๐๐‹๐„ โž
Her eyes felt brighter, her bones stronger, and her breaths easier. It felt as though she could smile without guilt...

๐™ข๐™–๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™›๐™ง๐™š๐™š๐™ข๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™–๐™จ
๐•ญ๐ข๐ฅ๐›๐จ ๐•ญ๐š๐ ๐ ๐ข๐ง๐ฌ

โ ๐‡๐„๐€๐‘๐“ ๐Ž๐… ๐’๐‡๐ˆ๐๐ˆ๐๐† ๐†๐Ž๐‹๐ƒ โž
She privately wondered if he would ever know that he gave her hope, fueled her long-cold courage, and put light in her eyes.

๐™ง๐™ž๐™˜๐™๐™–๐™ง๐™™ ๐™–๐™ง๐™ข๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™–๐™œ๐™š ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ค๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ค๐™–๐™ ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™๐™ž๐™š๐™ก๐™™
๐™–๐™ž๐™™๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™ง๐™ฃ๐™š๐™ง ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ ๐™ž๐™ก๐™ž
๐™™๐™š๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™ค'๐™œ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ข๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™›๐™ž๐™ก๐™ž
๐™ ๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™ฉ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™—๐™–๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ
๐™–๐™™๐™–๐™ข ๐™—๐™ง๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™ฃ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ž
๐™œ๐™ง๐™–๐™๐™–๐™ข ๐™ข๐™˜๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ซ๐™ž๐™จ๐™ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™™๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ

๐™Ÿ๐™–๐™ข๐™š๐™จ ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™จ๐™—๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ฉ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™—๐™ค๐™›๐™ช๐™ง
๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ก๐™ก๐™ž๐™–๐™ข ๐™ ๐™ž๐™ง๐™˜๐™๐™š๐™ง ๐™–๐™จ ๐™—๐™ž๐™›๐™ช๐™ง
๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ๐™๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง ๐™–๐™จ ๐™—๐™ค๐™ข๐™—๐™ช๐™ง
๐™ข๐™–๐™ง๐™  ๐™๐™–๐™™๐™ก๐™ค๐™ฌ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™™๐™ค๐™ง๐™ž
๐™Ÿ๐™š๐™™ ๐™—๐™ง๐™ค๐™ฅ๐™๐™ฎ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ž
๐™Ÿ๐™ค๐™๐™ฃ ๐™˜๐™–๐™ก๐™ก๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ค๐™ž๐™ฃ

๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง ๐™๐™–๐™ข๐™—๐™ก๐™š๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™œ๐™ก๐™ค๐™ž๐™ฃ
๐™ค๐™ง๐™ก๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ค ๐™—๐™ก๐™ค๐™ค๐™ข ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ก๐™š๐™œ๐™ค๐™ก๐™–๐™จ
๐™—๐™ง๐™š๐™ฉ ๐™ข๐™˜๐™ ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฏ๐™ž๐™š ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ž๐™ง
๐™๐™ช๐™œ๐™ค ๐™ฌ๐™š๐™–๐™ซ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™š๐™ก๐™ง๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™™
๐™จ๐™ž๐™ง ๐™ž๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™ข๐™˜๐™ ๐™š๐™ก๐™ก๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ข๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ž๐™ง/๐™œ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™๐™–๐™ก๐™›
๐™ก๐™š๐™š ๐™ฅ๐™–๐™˜๐™š ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ช๐™ž๐™ก


๐™–๐™ก๐™ฎ๐™จ๐™จ๐™– ๐™จ๐™ช๐™ฉ๐™๐™š๐™ง๐™ก๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ค๐™ง๐™–
๐™ก๐™ช๐™ ๐™š ๐™š๐™ซ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™—๐™–๐™ง๐™™
๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ๐™๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™›๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ข๐™–๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ก๐™–๐™ ๐™š๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™ฃ
๐™ฅ๐™š๐™œ๐™œ๐™ฎ ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™จ๐™—๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ฉ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™จ๐™ž๐™œ๐™ง๐™ž๐™™
๐™ข๐™–๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™จ๐™—๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ฉ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ก๐™™๐™–
๐™Ÿ๐™ค๐™๐™ฃ ๐™—๐™š๐™ก๐™ก ๐™–๐™จ ๐™—๐™–๐™ž๐™ฃ

๐™—๐™š๐™ฃ๐™š๐™™๐™ž๐™˜๐™ฉ ๐™˜๐™ช๐™ข๐™—๐™š๐™ง๐™—๐™–๐™ฉ๐™˜๐™ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™จ๐™ข๐™–๐™ช๐™œ
๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ฎ ๐™จ๐™š๐™ง๐™ ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™œ๐™ค๐™ก๐™ก๐™ช๐™ข/๐™จ๐™ข๐™š๐™–๐™œ๐™ค๐™ก
๐™š๐™ก๐™ž๐™Ÿ๐™–๐™ ๐™ฌ๐™ค๐™ค๐™™ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™›๐™ง๐™ค๐™™๐™ค ๐™—๐™–๐™œ๐™œ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™จ


















โ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐š๐ง๐ ๐›๐ฒ ๐ฆ๐ž ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐š๐ง ๐š๐ซ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ง๐จ๐ฐ
๐ข ๐ง๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐›๐จ๐๐ฒ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐ข ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ
๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ โž








ใ€Ž ๐ƒ๐ˆ๐’๐‚๐‹๐€๐ˆ๐Œ๐„๐‘ ใ€
I don't own Lord of the Rings, the Silmarillion, or the Hobbit. All rights go to my personal hero JRR Tolkien, Peter Jackson, Warner Bros, and Wingnut Films. Any and all recognizable plots and characters are not mine. However, all Ballads plots and characters are of my own original work. I deeply respect and love Tolkien's works and try hard to model them, please don't steal them.
Also of note: every story of the Ballads series interconnects into a slightly alternate universe. I honestly have too much respect for Middle-earth to change it too significantly. You don't need to read the other stories to understand this one, but characters and major events may cross paths with this story and its characters.
IMPORTANT!! This series follows the books very closely, and uses the movies for additional detail/dialogue. So before you wonder why the heck no one's being constantly chased by orcs or why Tariel...doesn't exist, that would be why.
ใ€Ž ๐–๐€๐‘๐๐ˆ๐๐†๐’ ใ€
This fanfic is rated PG-16 for fantasy violence, gore, scenes of torture, mental conditions such as PTSD, descriptions of panic attacks, depression, death, loss, and grief.
ใ€Ž ๐€๐”๐“๐‡๐Ž๐‘'๐’ ๐๐Ž๐“๐„ ใ€
Bilbo Baggins deserves all the love in the universe, and he doesn't really get it. I've decided to change that...that's all I have to say here
Oh! And I hope you enjoy my take on this fantastic book/movie trilogy. :)
ใ€Ž ๐ƒ๐„๐ƒ๐ˆ๐‚๐€๐“๐ˆ๐Ž๐๐’ ใ€
To JRR Tolkien, who, from his place in Heaven, is constantly inspiring writers like me to create new worlds. To my sisters, who have to endure my crazy fangirling, and to all of you readers who decide to support me! You are what makes writing stuff like this worthwhile. Love y'all!
ใ€Ž ๐’๐“๐€๐“๐”๐’ ใ€๐„๐ƒ๐ˆ๐“๐ˆ๐๐†
Started: 08 / 2021
Edited: 20 /25 / 2022 โ€” ?
Finished: โ€”
ใ€Ž ๐’๐Ž๐๐† ใ€
Somebody Like You by Smith & Thell








๐•ญ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐š๐๐ฌ
โ ๐™จ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ก๐™ก ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™ฅ๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™›๐™š๐™–๐™ง๐™จ ๐™–๐™จ๐™ž๐™™๐™š โž








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