#Maglor x Maglor's Spouse

[polutrope]

ok who IS the canon character whom you hc as Maglor’s husband I have been thinking about this all day and I’m dying to know actually!!

Hehehe. Okay, well, at the risk of upsetting both textual ghost enthusiasts (I have real guilt about this) and OTP shippers of two hugely popular fandom ships... it's Glorfindel.

The entire reason is that I fell in love with their dynamic in Healing wounds by @ettelene and the Remix of that fic, Come Tomorrow (You Won’t Find Me Here) by @maglors-anion-gap, in which they get together in the third age.

In Ettelene's fic, she has Glorfindel crushing on Maglor back in Valinor and I was like, "Okay but what if it was reciprocated?" I was already tinkering with a Maglor's husband OC and Glorfindel found his way into the role. 

It's pretty random, I confess, but there is a certain appeal to it, which I will demonstrate below the cut:  

Aesthetically impeccable. Maglor appreciates beauty, okay?

A son of Fëanor getting with a half-Vanya (as I hc Glorfindel to be) is juicy (Fëanor does support it, by the way; Fingolfin finds that pretty rich).  

I like that it provides opportunity to explore Maglor’s non-musical interests. I mean, we don’t know what Glorfindel was into, but both of them do later become badass warriors and I think a bit of that trait, if not the actual activity, was in them before Beleriand. 

I hc Glorfindel as a cousin of Elenwë and old friend of Turgon. So, that friendship came first. This is so drama for a Glorfindel/Maglor marriage. (I might write it one day, so I won’t tell the whole story, but in brief: their estrangement starts pre-Darkening, Glorfindel ditches him post-kinslaying, and officially dumps him – as nicely as he can manage – at Mithrim. I do love making Maglor’s no good very bad time even worse.)

Angst of Glorfindel just disappearing to Gondolin, only for Maglor to a) learn ~450 years later that he died or b) never learn that he died. 

Opportunity for awkward encounter (and reconciliation?) with beach hermit Maglor in the second or third age.

For those concerned, the endgame is still Daemags and Glorthelion here. With room for others in between. (Or if I’m in a fix-it mood it’s all four of them in post-canon Valinor.) 

The only existing fic that explicitly incorporates this headcanon is a fun post-canon Daemags that Ettelene wrote for me, A contest. But in Laughing All the Way, Turgon calls out young Maglor for having a crush on him.

#asks #maglor #glorfindel #glorfindel x maglor #maglor's spouse

[cilil]

Manwë Week Day 3

These two, and of that Manwë was certain, had a special bond, and he was determined to nurture it and one day see it bloom into the beautiful love story he could already imagine and was eager to bring to paper. 

Day 3: The Children | Whispering Breeze Relationship(s): Background Maedhros x Fingon, background Manwë x Varda Synopsis: Sensing the budding love between two certain Noldor, Manwë decides to "help" them Warnings: / AO3

AN: Thank you to @elanna-elrondiel for bringing the fun little headcanon of Maglor doing theater performances to my attention. There'll be a little reference to that in this one :D

"My dear Maitimo, it is always so lovely to see you!"

The young prince paused, his mouth half-open to deliver a politely formulated greeting, only to be caught off-guard by the Elder King's unusually bubbly attitude and exuberant enthusiasm. 

Manwë's smile was as bright as Laurelin's light and his irises were of a vibrant light blue hue, reminiscent of the sky on a clear, cloudless day. He eagerly clasped his hands together in front of him and looked at Maitimo with such fondness that he was visibly wondering whatever he had done to deserve such a special greeting. 

"My lord," he managed eventually, giving a quick bow. "I... am happy to see you as well." 

Manwë accepted his response with a quick nod. "Ah, as wonderful as it would be to exchange some pleasantries, I do believe dear Findekáno is looking for you. Perhaps you should seek him out and spend some time with him?" 

The confused and slightly alarmed expression on Maitimo's face told him that, despite the tender interactions he had observed between the two, certain conversations had yet to be had, and it took all of Manwë's self-control not to wring his hands in excitement. It mattered little; aside from the grand feast he had ordained, there would also be performances of all kinds that could serve as an opportunity for the two Noldor to spend time together. 

Not least of all a certain theatre piece that Makalaurë would be partaking in, whom Manwë had rather deliberately paired with a certain Vanya he had noticed him having his eyes on. 

"Did Finno — I mean, Findekáno ask you to... inform me about him needing to speak to me?" Maitimo attempted to sound formal, but his slip of the tongue successfully dispelled all illusions. Even Manwë, being honest to a fault himself, was not deceived; and even if the young prince had been more convincing, his keen eyes had already seen too much to have wool pulled over his eyes. 

These two, and of that he was certain, had a special bond, and he was determined to nurture it and one day see it bloom into the beautiful love story he could already imagine and was eager to bring to paper. 

"No, but he seemed as though he was looking for someone," Manwë smiled. Having ulterior motives or not, he had neither the intention nor the capability of deception, though it came with the unfortunate side effect that Maitimo appeared to grow increasingly nervous. 

"Please, my lord, I mean no disrespect, but may I ask why you would assume he was looking for me?" Fearing that he had sounded rude, he quickly added, "Our family is quite large, after all." 

"Well, you two are quite close, are you not?" 

Maitimo's face reddened with such incriminating intensity that it began to resemble his hair. 

"W-we maintain a good relationship. As cousins, I mean. I-I know our fathers don't get along very well, but... we are also trying to keep some peace between our families... a bit of diplomacy can never hurt..." 

He continued to prattle on, and Manwë's smile fell slightly as he was reminded of the rift between himself and his own brother. Melkor would be better off with a few good friends and a spouse too, something he had often told him only to have some rather rude comments thrown at him in return. But that was an issue he would deal with another time. 

"Do you feel that Fëanáro and Nolofinwë are making it difficult to be close to Findekáno, Maitimo?" Manwë interrupted him gently. "Do you want me to talk to them?" 

"I..." The young prince seemed both out of words and out of breath, and he reflexively blew a tiny breeze in his direction to assist him, smiling reassuringly. He sensed that their conversation had drawn the attention of Varda and felt the weight of her sharp gaze upon him. 

I know, I know, Manwë thought to himself, his mind open as always if she wanted to hear him. And he was indeed aware, as his beloved wife had informed him numerous times in the past, that he was being nosy and impatient and that such things were supposed to be beneath his station. Yet he had witnessed the joy and affection in Maitimo's and Findekáno's eyes when they were together, and the love they clearly had for one another warmed his heart; all he wanted was for them to succeed. 

"I, uh... Father may not approve, but if he does, he hasn't said so," Maitimo said finally. 

"Ah, then things should be well for the moment. And your uncle Nolofinwë has ever been so patient with him too," Manwë nodded sagely, and was surprised to see the young Noldo avert his eyes in embarrassment. "Why, dear Maitimo, have I said anything wrong?" 

"No, my lord... and that is what... no, I shan't speak of it," Maitimo mumbled. 

Wishing to ease his discomfort, Manwë let out a sympathetic clucking noise. "I know such close bonds are not easy to forge, especially within the confines of familial relations and obligations."

"Pardon me, what bonds are you talking about...?" 

"Your beautiful bond with dear Findekáno!" Manwë exclaimed. The volume of his mighty voice caused Maitimo to flinch ever so slightly.

Varda was glaring at him at this point, he could feel it. 

"Oh. Yes. Findekáno... I suppose I should go and look for him then, in case he wishes to speak with me." Maitimo, seemingly glad for an opening, bowed hastily. "If I may...?" 

"But of course, I shall not keep you away from him any longer," Manwë said, his face practically glowing with contentment when the young prince all but fled from their conversation. 

Unbeknownst to him, he wasn't going to escape the Elder King's sight any time soon, and Manwë was already on his way back to his throne so he could observe from there. 

"You made that poor Elf way too nervous with your nosiness," Varda scolded him as soon as he was alone. "Did I not tell you to behave?" 

"But my love, what if nobody had told poor Maitimo that Findekáno wants to see him? He seemed so shy, he may not have had the courage to seek him in a public setting..."

"A question that would not need to be answered if a certain someone hadn't spoken to Findekáno beforehand, claiming that there might be something Maitimo wishes to discuss with him." 

Making himself comfortable on his throne, Manwë tried his best not to look too guilty. 

"Well... it is no lie." 

"It is not," Varda agreed, "but it is none of your business. And don't you dare recite any of the poems you wrote about them! Not before they are wed, do you hear me?" 

Despite her strict tone, there was a smile in her voice. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @stormchaser819 @wandererindreams @manweweek

#maitimo #manweweek #manwe week #maedhros #manwe #manwe sulimo #manwë #valar #ainur #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing

[carmisse]

Fëanáro and his sons-(and daughter) in-law.

X : Rank your children's spouses or partners from one to ten.

Fëanor : ...

Fëanor : I've been waiting for this moment since Maitamo was in diapers!

Fëanor : Findekáno is an eight. He was the first one and I really came to see the fact that he and Maitamo would get married when they had the chance. He is quite nice though because of him I have to see Ñolofinwë's face on weekends at the family dinner. Other than that, it's stranger not to see him at home, I got used to having him there, he's good company.

Fëanor : the first time I met Makalaurë's wife she punched me in the jaw. She is sassy and not afraid to express her displeasure with anyone plus Dae is really very talented, she is also the only person who can manage to shut Káno up, she sings too well, a ten, she is my favorite.

Fëanor : Tyelko was always a free fëa, that's why I didn't expect him to settle down, not even with Irissë and even less with Oromë. That's why Dior was a strange surprise, I don't really know the history of those two and I haven't dealt much with him, he's usually serious, and I don't blame him for that. A seven.

Fëanor : Turukáno reminds me too much of Ñolofinwë; he openly hates me and I respect him for that; but he also makes Moryo smile more often than usual, his mood changes when he's around his husband. Besides they have been together for too long, they never told anyone but Aracáno and I suspected it. He is an eight.

Fëanor : I'm not sure if Findaráto counts, he and Curufinwë have been divorced for a long time, however they also kiss a closet when they think no one sees them. He and Curufin made me grandfather, although at the time there was yelling and a couple of broken things, he took responsibility, and like Findekáno his company is pleasant. He's a solid nine, plus Arafinwë is easier to stand than Ñolo.

Fëanor : Pityo has no husband, wife or partner; unless it's secret, I can't score this time.

Fëanor : Telvo on the other hand, well. He leaves Artaresto and Arakáno, the son, I mean. I must say that the three of them are really adorable, if somewhat disastrous, you don't want to know what an argument between them is. Frankly they are the healthiest polyamory I've seen in a long time. Both Arteresto and Arakáno are a nine.

Plus : Telperinquar's husband.

Fëanor : Annatar is an annoying little shit, I am offended that you think I accept him, if it were not for Tyelpe I would throw him into the void with his ex-husband.

Notes :

Daeron is trans, she is an elleth. When he and Maglor met, the son of Fëanor fell in love with her, he proposed to her a few days after they met for the first time. A hundred years pass before she accepts him, they marry with only trees as a witness, they drifted apart after Doriath.

She was upset for a long time, with her husband and her brothers-in-law.

They meet in Imladris, Elrond is the one who brings them together (he locks them in a room until they talk) Maglor apologizes and she accepts them even though she knows it will take time to heal. Finally, they sail to Valinor accompanying Elladan and Elrohir. Regarding her name, he doesn't really mind Daeron. But her family in-laws call her Dae, Maglor nicknamed her that when he met her, this with her permission.

Amrod has no interest in anyone, he is very tired of everyone.

#feanor #house of feanor #feanorians #russingon #daemags #celegorm/dior #turgon x caranthir #curufinrod #Amrod #Orodreth/Amras/Argón #fingon #Daeron of Doriath #dior eluchil #turgon #finrod felagund #orodreth #argon #silm crack #silm headcanons #silmarillion headcanon #the silmarillion #the silm fandom

[doodle-pops]

Unforgivable

Maglor x reader

Request: Oh oh, can I have some angst with my baby Maglor. I know this troupe is overdone but I love it so, a Maglor x fem! reader where he departs Valinor and leaves his wife behind. Maybe he begs her to come along? I'm excited to see what you'll create, thank you 💕💕 - Anon

A/N: Oh boy did I enjoy writing this! As you said, I wanted to take a different spin on the usual troupe and make it a lot darker. Our magpie is far from sweet and charming here. Turned out his skillful voice has other usage aside from singing.

Warnings: manipulation, Maglor being cunning and deceitful, mentions of blood (lots of times because it's a kinslaying), weakminded reader, heavy angst

Words: 1.1k

Synopsis: Vows were never meant to be broken and Maglor would ensure you fulfilled yours.

“So you’re not following?”

“Why should I? I don’t have a reason for needing to leave my home behind.”

“…So you’re simply going to forget about us then? All the promises we made!”

Falling silent, you knew he was right. You gave him your words, your vow, on your wedding day. It wasn’t the first time he dangled them over your head like some unforgettable prized object. As his spouse, it was your duty to follow him until the end, to stand at his side through all his rights and some wrongs. You were a married couple, and a relationship was hard work in progress— always learning about one another as time flew by. So, this was simply another hurdle in your life you needed to overcome. All he was doing was motivating you and providing the missing support to win. Once again, he was proving to you that you needed him, you couldn’t survive on your own without him. He was your stability.

“Makalaurё, I…I—” you bit your lips as you felt the tears growing the building pressure. His stare, erratic breathing, the crimson coating his silver blade which twinkled under the torches, his sternness, his everything. It all made your heartstrings tug towards guilt. How could you possibly tell him you didn’t need or want to be with him anymore?

We are soulmates Y/N, you can’t be without me. We have to be, so come with me.

Gasping as you heard his voice in your head being whispered like a dainty flower dancing in the spring breeze, you looked up to meet his hopeful eyes glowing in the dark. While they appeared hopeful to you, underneath was a loose and crazed nér. A nér that was ready and capable of dragging you off whether you wanted to come with him or not. He couldn’t be without you, not when you were his entire life and the air that he breathed. You walking away meant death for him and he wasn’t ready for that. There was an oath to fulfil.

“Makalaurё, I don’t know. I don’t have a reason to leave Araman behind,” you begged in accordance to reason with him. Your throat was closing up as though wire was wrapped around it, tightening with every second you doubted.

Shaking his head and stepping forward, his bloodied right hand reached out to touch your clean, unblemished skin and tugged you closer. His grip remained on your upper arm, firm and secure, while his eyes blazed with the eternal flames. But those flames were doused by the coolness of his soothing fëa, brushing against your own. It felt like the cool rain on a spring day Manwë would bless the earth with. But you also saw the passion and his desire to have you with him at all times, and his voice portrayed the rawness, “Yes you do, me! You will never leave me, you are not to ever leave me. You need to be at my side, to keep me going. I will not leave you behind.” The growls and trembles in his tones raised the goosebumps on the back of your neck and down your arms. His words of passion and fire penetrated your heart and fёa unlike the many times before.

The hand that gripped your upper arm, trailed higher until it cupped your cheeks, sweeping a trail of blood across the perfect white you adorned yourself in. Moving in closer, he breathed in your scent of fear and stored it in the deepest parts of his memory. The sword in his left hand remained locked within his cold fingers as it rose to rest behind your back for a hug. Your face buried into his sturdy cerise armour, now being painted with the blood of the innocently fallen. “You know you need me darling…and you know I need you as well,” he cooed in despondency and hurt, but the tightening of his arms around your shoulders did not.

“Makalaurё…but my family, the people…”

“Shhh, worry not about them. Your family is us— you and I, remember? We’re married, you and I, that’s all that matters.”

You were still smaller than him. Noldor he was and ever so giant their race was, you felt like a child being consoled in his arms.

His melodious and poisonous voice poured into your ears and corrupted the very fibre of your being. Moulding your moralities and standards to match his and become dependent. It was like a spider leading it's prey into a web. . .of lies or the sweet honey bee being drawn in by the perfumed scent of a deadly flower, masked by it's beautiful parade. Standing your ground was never an ability you were capable of portraying, not when your sweet and loving husband was there to speak for you. He would take the lead as he always did, your knight in shining armour. Though, it didn’t matter if it was bathed in blood at the moment.

“…If I go with you, everything would be better and we’d be a family, right? No more killing?” peering up at him with your doe eyes, your tears brimming were your lashes.

Exhaling, he looked down at you and lifted your chin to meet his determined stare, “I promise. This was just an accident, you know we didn’t mean to do this. I told you before, I’m sorry, yes?”

You nodded your head once slowly, then twice before it broke out into multiple rapid nods. Feeling a tear cascading down your cheeks, you reached to wipe it away but he beat you to the action. Smearing more blood across your face, he removed the crystal that stained. “Okay. I just don’t want anything horrendous to happen again. We are leaving Araman for a better life,” you supposed.

Needing to complete your statement with the ultimate act of reassurance, he pulled away from you and dragged his crimson hand down to your wrist, tugging. Granting you the smile that you first fell in love with upon first sight, he tenderly pulled you along the flooded street of lifeless bodies to the docks. It appeared as though a tsunami plumaged the city and all along with it, destroying the stunning iridescent silver and pearls, the blues and green of the ocean and pinks of the sunset. Nevertheless, none of that mattered as Makalaurё led you through the streets with honey in his smile and the future in his eyes. “As long as you come with me, all that you wish for between us, will be. If you just follow me,” he artfully whispered.  

You could have sworn you saw a halo around his head as he fed you hollow promises and guile. And you followed him with an optimistic, mindless beam, swaying along and dancing to the tune of his untruthful song. Like an aimless flower, swaying in whatever direction the wind may blow it, he carried you along. From the depths of the city to the root of the evil, he led you into darkness and misery; footsteps blindly trailing and leaving behind all good things to the greatest mistake you had ever made.

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @starborne0661 @floraroselaughter @singleteapot @asianbutnotjapanese @justellie17 @justjane

#maglor x reader #maglor imagine #maglor angst #maglor #maglor scenario #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion angst #silmariilion fic #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth fic #middle earth angst #x reader angst #x reader insert #angst with a sad ending #tw: manipulation #feanorians #sons of feanor #house of feanor #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[lamemaster]

The Soulless One (Part 1)

Request: Hi 🌷 How are you? Can I request the female human reader, who died in a battle fighting. Being reborn as an elf in Valinor and Maedhros falling in love with her again?

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: Angst🤌 and drama🦐 and SOULMATES✨ (And they were soulmates)

Summary: Giving away your soul for a bloody battle? Pfft, you were fucking in for good.

AN: Heyyy sorry for being late but I just love your ask. This was in my brain cooking for months so here is my two-part apology for being late. (Is the reader pick me? Lmk)

Part 2 |

"Then you can have mine," and just like nothing, the Edain offered her soul. "Whatever parts of you they have stolen, you can lend from me. They aren't flawless like you elven folk, but they've lasted me decades." Your smile was easy and light, unlike your words.

Maglor almost wanted to jump out of the window but his brother's room was too high up to do that without losing a limb and as a matter of fact, the Feanorians are not fond of losing limbs until absolutely necessary.

"You speak of your soul like it matters not a bit," Maedhros huffed shuffling his blankets seemingly unbothered by you a great feat.

"We men may possess weak body but undermine not the strength of our souls." The glimmer of pride in your voice is the only indication of the position that you hold over the rest in the room.

"You..." Words feel awkward on Maedhros' tongue. "You can't just...offer your soul." A raised eyebrow and amused smirk is not the response that Maedhros honestly expected.

Much to everyone present's surprise you rest your feet on his bed leaning back in your chair, "Can't you like do some elven magic or shit," you shrug as if absorbing mannish souls were to be a polite elven practice.

Celegorm scoffed ready to snivel into the conversation before Maedhros delivered him a glare that very much declared to not fuck up the alliance with men.

Fingon, on the other hand, seemed to be possessed by untamable laughter. "Much to our sorrow, there isn't a way to lend souls general." Rolling your eyes, you look up into the sky with a frustrated frown on your forehead. "Let me share my fucking soul so we can fucking fight the damned bane of my people." You challenge the gods themselves.

And the weird assortment of the elven party gathered would have snickered at your antics if not for the miraculous thunder strike that the gods seem to have sent for you.

The next moment, Maedhros clutched his chest as the broken fragments of his soul were pulled together by a force that seemed to glue them together like a completed puzzle.

"Someone more refined perhaps," the damn elf smirks even as you glare at him. "Someone who restrains from cursing after every other word," he continues with his long list of demands.

"Enchanting eyes, long braided hair, a beauty mark or two placed by their lips, elegant nose, supple lips-"

"Well you might have to fuck yourself then my lord," you interrupt his merry list.

Maedhros chuckles, much to your growing annoyance. "You are right general. After all, I was once the well-formed one once, not much of it now but do not mind my requisites in a spouse."

None of his words sting more than the echoing past tense of his last sentence. "You still are well-formed lord." Your cheeks burn with heat and it is foolish to feel such fervor for mere words. Forcing your eyes to focus on the looming willow swaying in the afternoon heat you muster the courage to spew the words that seem to rush from the crevices of your heart to your lips. "I may not be the one from your long list of wants but you still are yourself. You, to me, are the most radiant one."

Your heart beats louder than it has ever done. Louder than the aftermath of a bloody battle. You contemplate fleeing the scene of this overtly emotional moment before Maedhros scoffs. "What would an unkempt one like you know of radiance." His words are sharp, even in his praise he spares no comfort to you.

It is better than the coying sweetness of his kindness that you have dreamt of. The harshness of his words makes it easier to let go of shame and hold on to him. "Indeed what would a woman blinded by eldest Feanorian know of my lord," had it been any other to mock you with such words, you would have toppled his head from his body but in front of the elf, who has conquered your soul, your words and actions have mellowed into mere longing. "As for all your extensive criteria," you step closer to him, and despite the subtlety of his sharp breath, you notice it, "I will make sure to satisfy you in the next lifetime."

If this was what sharing your soul meant, then you would have done it sooner. You would have given it to him at first glance.

Maedhros, a ten centuries old elder finds him in quite a predicament. The unruly general by his side was anything but of his preference.

You were brutish. Your hair was a tangled mess on a good day or a bunched-up botched hair bun on worse ones. Your face and body were full of scars. Your laughter was the most un-lady-like thing full of snorts.

He, the eldest Feanorian, was not made for anything less than perfect. Even in his fall, his existence and his fate were destined to be beyond you.

It had to be an effect of sharing your soul, perhaps. Maedhros read countless texts. He even scoured his father's works on fea and hroa all his research to retrieve Miriel's soul.

There had to be something wrong with him to find all wrong with you to be everything right.

You've been to countless battlefields. Stepped over broken bodies without much of a look back. It had been a challenge to the entire court of your father's kingdom. You were a soldier before a princess.

Yet, today, it feels different. You are aware of the brittle soul trapped in your body. You knew you were fucked the second you realized how little was left of it. The moment you poured your very essence into the elven lord.

Your mortal bones have never felt lighter. With the first steps on the battlefield, you know it is your last. The General from Rhun is destined to die on this very battlefield.

But you mask it well. You grip your sword tight in your hands and steal a last glance at the lord who holds the rest of your soul.

A fraction of the second that you manage to steal feels longer than decades of existence. You knew you would die for the eldest Feanorian. Looking back at your men, you speak words of courage and valor.

"We fight for the Earth that feeds us, for the rivers that water our crops, and the winds that soothe summers. We fight to one day free our land of its curse." Your men roar back at your words. Their eyes filled with brimming passion but also acceptance.

Every single soldier on that field was aware of their end. Ulfang had long shown his true colors. Easterlings, as others called your people, were now the enemy.

The entire alliance saw you as nothing more than a thorn in their grand plans. Meager rations, little to no water, rusted weapons, the worst had befallen whatever had left of the forces of the East.

Maedhros was too far gone to even allow an audience. This battlefield would be the end of the last host to Edain from the East. Your sacrifice wouldn't be enough to repair the loss of elven lives on the first few days of battle.

But it would perhaps be the ignition of valor for a generation far into the years of the world.

Maedhros despises you. More than Easterlings, more than Ulfang whom you once treated as a brother or even the botched form of orcs.

He hates you for your crude humor, your smug smiles, your nasty temper, your ceaseless shameless flirting, he hates the way you give away all of yourself without blinking an eye, how you smile maniacally surrounded by a towering group of enemies, they way your soul hold the fragments of his soul together. The worst is that you bear every unfair mistreatment thrown your way without an ounce of complaint.

The sunken look of circles under your eyes and the hollow of your cheeks was enough to know how poorly the entire camp had treated the remaining Haradrim. Moldy food, uneven sleeping grounds, even the spear in your hand were made out of brittle splintering wood that trembled at the smallest impact.

He knows of his cruelty to you. He also knows of your soft thanks to his guard, who informs you of another rejected audience.

And when you walk away from his tent, he can see the heavy burden on your shoulders that seem to slump under the burden you carry.

But on the battlefield, he sees another version of you. Through stolen glimpses at the farthest corner of the battlefield, he sees you.

Your armor is dented. A new wound bleeds heavily from your back. Your eyes are wide open untouched by the sweat that drips down from your brow to the tip of your nose. Your sweat mixes with the dark blood splattered on your face.

However, most eire is the wide grin on your lips. He feels a thrum of uncontained joy in the parts of your soul. No...it wasn't joy but eagerness. Excitement for what was to come. Death.

5 arrows, 2 sword wounds, and an array of petal-like bruises blooming all over your body. In the dark of night, he does not struggle to find you as a mortal would have.

Littered amongst the unclaimed bodies of your kin, the forces of Ulfang had left rotting lay you.

No smile greets Maedhros this time. None of your clever words or even an appreciative whistle that was your routine after checking him out. It is awfully quiet.

"I had expected you to betray me. To leave the alliance that promised you nothing," his arms wrap around your cold body, pulling your head into his lap. "Even till the end of it, I could not trust you. Only in your absence have I come to yearn you," he snaps the arrows sticking out of your torso.

His thumbs wipe off his own tears as they fall and slide off your face. "I miss you dearly. I have missed you dearly for all the time we have been apart." He pulls you closer to his heart, where your soul and his rests.

"Your soul that joins mine together like glue seems to be searching for its half. Even without my will, I end up looking for you. The thrumming anticipation in your blood today... I felt it. And for a moment, I had wanted to fall next to you."

Maedhros imagines your snarky remarks to his emotional words, but none of them feel right. How would you have reacted to his confession? He chuckles, imagining an overbearing look of ill-concealed pride. "I wasn't kind to you. I took your soul. Never once treated you the way my heart desired to. I never once told you how much your very presence fills me with love." All the moments of your time with him play before his eyes. Staring into the stars, he continues.

"I another lifetime...you must find me." He whispers into the tight embrace. "Find me in the form you have promised me. And then I will allow myself to love you...please," he begged.

"I will await you, with your soul and mine."

#the silmarillion #tolkien elves #silmarillion x reader #maedhros #maedhros x reader #angst #hopeful ending #happy ending I promise people

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Fairytale AU + Hair Brushing/Braiding

Ah, Elrond/Erestor...and a dash of fairytale vibes! Always a winning combo lol

Sorry for dragging all my blorbos into this LOOOOL

Prompts: Fairytale AU + Hair Brushing/Braiding

Pairing: Elrond x Erestor

Requester: @maglor-my-beloved

Words: 1 130

Warnings: Injury, trauma, doom, nudity, bath scene, Fëanorian Erestor

Once upon a time, in a faraway land that was yet free of the strife of this present day, two young souls sat by a peaceful river’s shore, braiding each other’s hair in a gesture of unmarred affection.

“I shall cherish your design forevermore,” Finwë, future patriarch of a fated line, whispered, and Elwë smiled knowingly.

Soon, though, they were torn apart by destiny.

Many cycles of silver and golden light later, Finwë found himself brushing the hair of his firstborn son—his heir, his cherished boy—and, inspired by the love he had lost, he wove an intricate, intimate pattern into that living silk.

Thus, a hallowed tradition was born on either side of the great divide. For generations, fathers would braid parts of their identity and their most unspeakable well-wishes into the hair of their progeny.

Often hidden but never undone, those tresses spoke of legacies and enduring faithfulness—they spanned ages, becoming ever more complex, and retold the story of a people ever on the brink of desolation.

So it was that, with heavy hearts and three skeletal hands, two notorious kinslayers thusly marked the blessed sons they’d stolen from their intended purpose.

It was with surprise and life-altering emotion that a stubborn, golden-haired princess and her dignified spouse discovered that, despite and beyond their differences, they shared this precious custom. Together, they created a new design for their daughter, interweaving strands that had been set apart by time and providence.

It was with tears in his eyes that a taciturn, irascible hermit looked upon the simple plait a ferocious mortal had put in their sleeping son’s hair.

“So he’ll never forget where he comes from,” Haleth whispered, kissing a burning cheek. “So he might find his people when both of us are gone.”

The one she loved so desperately without being able to save him frowned.

“One day,” she promised, “he’ll be able to trace back these strands of hair to the root of all love. The braid shall lead him home!”

Once upon another time, a valiant leader stood alone in the face of overwhelming evil. He was beaten down mercilessly, and—just as he had accepted that he’d never leave the battlefield alive—a warm hand settled on his hip.

“The day is lost,” a scratchy, breathless voice mumbled. “Come away now and live to fight another day.”

Too weak and injured to protest, Elrond Half-Elven let himself be carried away by Erestor who was stronger, faster, and much more cunning than he looked at first glance.

“I shall bathe you,” Erestor declared as soon as they had reached the camp, “and tend to your wounds.”

When Elrond tried to decline, overcome with a sudden sense of shame and panic, a resolute but tender finger was pressed against his lips like the prelude to a kiss the other didn’t yet feel comfortable dispensing.

“Hush! Your secrets are safe with me!”

Mollified and subdued by the severity of his injuries, the fearless lord mellowed into the caring embrace of his saviour who bore him to a small tent where a copper tub was already waiting to be used.

Servants brought in hot water and clean towels, and Elrond melted into a semi-conscious state of bliss, listening to the soft murmuring of the blurry shapes fading in and out of focus.

It had been many long years since he had last allowed another to gently peel muddied, blood-soaked fabric from his clammy skin, and the very recollection of those hands—drenched in crime and regret—made him sit up with a jolt.

“You must not…” he whispered hoarsely, but already, he could feel nimble fingers comb through the tangled strands of his sweat-matted hair. “I—”

Erestor’s affectionate ministrations slowed to a crawl as he found what his friend had so desperately tried to keep from him—in the face of such stark, unequivocal reluctance, he felt strangely shy and unwilling to cast his eyes down to look upon the discreet braid, burning like a string of hot metal against his palm.

Even though his mind shied away from an identity he had always suspected but never dared confirm, the sensitive tips of his long, sinuous digits deciphered unerringly what his heart might always have known.

“I recognise parts of this design,” he murmured pensively. A wave of heartsick longing threatened to drown him from the inside as he remembered his mother, brushing his hair and sharing all she had been able to learn about his father’s family with him.

Erestor also remembered his father—stern, often distant as if afraid that his mere touch could harm his child, and yet so discreetly and steadfastly loving—and he couldn’t help but wonder what had become of him.

“He thought I was too young to know,” he whispered as if to himself.

“Who? What do you mean?” Elrond articulated painstakingly. The soothing warmth of the herb-infused bath had washed away the last vestiges of his stubborn ferocity, and he felt worn out and dizzy.

With a soft, rueful chuckle, Erestor lifted the obscuring curtain of his dense, dark hair to reveal a gorgeously elaborate tress of his own.

“It is far from being as ornate as yours,” he conceded sheepishly. “Alas, I have fewer legacies to represent and keep alive, but…you are not alone.”

If he had thought that every layer of protection—armour, clothing, and the dignity of his station—had already been stripped from him and that he had nothing left to lose, Elrond now discovered that he had been sorely mistaken.

A weight he had not been fully aware of carrying fell from his soul, and—finally unburdened—his very heart seemed to draw breath for the first time in centuries.

“They have claimed you wholly then,” Erestor said, his voice becoming unsteady as he was shaken to the core by this revelation. At last, he allowed himself to look down and read the labyrinthine story of his dear love’s life, woven in glossy strands that felt more akin to a soothing river on a hot day than to the burning sun itself now.

“How do you know?” Elrond asked, too overcome to play coy.

“My father would only share so much, but—needled and encouraged by my mother’s faith—I have spent a lot of time seeking answers and documenting as much as I could about those lost to horrifying history.”

Spell-bound and stunned into startled silence, Elrond could merely stare at him.

“I shall not undo it,” Erestor promised as he took up his cherished task of carefully washing the abused, battered flesh once more. “Once we get you out of here and into a warm bed, I shall tell you about my findings. Welcome home, little star. You’re much loved still.”

@fellowshipofthefics Here's another one!

Lots of love from me!

-> 🌟Masterlist 🌟

#og post #FOTFICS January #FOTFICS 2024 #January Trope Roulette #2024 #Fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #jrrt #Tolkien fanfiction #Elrond/Erestor #Elrond #Erestor #Fëanorians #Galadriel #Fairytale AU #Hair Brushing/Braiding

[lanthanum12]

Niennandil Advent Calendar Day 1

Happy Holidays everyone!! This year everyday including Christmas, I'm hoping to share a short story about Yule and it's celebration in Arda in my favorite AU of the whole legendarium, the Niennandil-verse! Things are pretty complicated, I will admit (I can't keep track of my own stories XD) so at the end of each chapter, I'll include some context for the different ocs and everything! I hope you all enjoy!

---------------------------------

        Nienna’s gift list grew longer every year. New children were born and new elves sailed to Tol Eressa. This year, however, there were even more. Olorín had returned and with him came two hobbits and one being, named Sméagol, who was not truly a hobbit anymore but she loved him just the same. All of them, besides Sméagol, had received a keg of her famous lemonade. Sméagol got caviar. She had planned on giving him an outfit, but Vairë and Fíriel had supplied Sméagol, Bilbo, and Frodo with fifty outfits each. They were so delighted by the little ones.

        There was of course the Ainur she worked with. They were to have a party tomorrow as they did every year. Mairon would be joining them for the first time ever along with his friend Lómion. She was a little bit worried about how everything would go with Mairon as many were wary of him. Though she was planning on doing everything in her power to make it a success. It was the first Yule he would be celebrating with them after all!

        But right now she was going to visit the elf family she was closest to, the House of Nerdanel and Fëanor. When she came to their house for their annual Yule feast, she was met with a cheer and a tight hug from Maglor. Despite her seeing him earlier this morning. Soon much of the family joined in and she was rather crushed and crowded in amongst Fëanor, Nerdanel, their seven children, six spouses, five grandkids, one great-granddaughter, and a dog. Celebrían and Fíriel stood on the edge, laughing.

        “Can we have presents now?” Niennamírë asked. They were Gwindor’s and Maedhros’s little orcling who had been recently reembodied and adopted into the family.

        “We must wait until Lady Nienna is ready,” Niennarille, Mírë’s older brother, hissed. Nienna leaned down next to the orclings and handed them each a package.

        “It’s a little early but these are for you,” Nienna said. Mírë eagerly ripped into the paper of theirs and unwrapped a stack of books.

        “I’m going to learn how to read! I’m going to read all about ada and atto!” Mírë squealed, hugging their books tightly in their arms.

        “We do not know this yet,” Rille cautioned.

        “Of course you will, Mírë, you as well Rille,” Maedhros assured, “Rille, why don’t you open your package?”

        Rille turned his parcel over in his hand, sniffing it and feeling every corner, “I don’t know.”

        “I can tell you what’s inside it if it would make you feel better, or we can open it together,” Nienna assured him.

        “I want to know what’s inside,” Rille said.

        “Okay, I got you a plush of a warg as I know those are your favorite animals,” Nienna explained. Rille ‘s lips turned up as he slowly undid the wrapping paper. Sure enough inside was a warg with silver fur made of the softest silk and an emerald bow. 

        Rille stroked the warg’s fur, “Thank you…”

        “You are so welcome,” Nienna wiped away some tears that came at the siblings’ joy. This is why she gave gifts. It was another way for those she loved to be able to know that.

--------------------------------------

Lanthie here! Thanks for reading day one!

Okay so this one takes place in the fourth age and here are some of the changes: Sméagol lives! Mairon/Sauron gets reembodied and is now living in the halls of Nienna. I'm a big Gwindor x Maedhros shipper (and the one that I know of off the top of my head (I'm so sorry if you ship them too and I forgot >.<), I might even be one of the very first?!) and in my verse they get married and adopt two orclings. Orcs get reembodied in my verse, as orcs. Mírë and Rille have no clue who their biological parents are, Nienna and the rest of the Valar are trying to figure that out in case Mírë and Rille want to meet them someday.

Anyways this was some really fun fluff, I love Mírë and Rille! I wish I paid more attention to them tbh.

#orcs #my ocs #ocs #my writing #Niennandil-verse #tolkien fandom #lord of the rings #Gwindor x Maedhros #fluff #Nienna #niennandil-verse #Niennandil-verse Advent Calendar #orc ocs #Valinor #christmas

[yellow-faerie]

Here is my entry for Day 2 of @tolkienocweek! Starring Maglor's wife Cantasië and her two younger sisters.

Love Letter

Dearest Makalaurë,

I hope you have been well since we parted. I arrived home in one piece and slightly earlier than expected, so there is no need to fret about me. I must say that while Tirion was beautiful and it was my dubious pleasure to meet more of your family (and I tease Hónya, your family is no more rambunctious than I am used to, I assure you) it is a relief to return to the familiar sounds and sights and smells of home.

Most certainly, I have already been doused in sea water thrice by various cousins and twice by my sister alone. I think she might have missed me, for I have only just managed to shake her off in order to write this letter.

I have had lots to do since my return, including giving my dear Súriellë a good once over, ready to sail when I get a moment to myself. Tomorrow I will be returning to the shop, for which I am certain Emil will be very grateful – I know she much prefers to be out on the water with Ambi than stuck inside.

We had a family dinner last night upon Emil’s insistence (she was just looking for an excuse to celebrate something and my return was reason enough). I may have slipped away from the general proceedings just after cake as I really wasn’t in the mood for my uncle Alassírë’s terrible jokes, only to be found moments later by my grandmother.

She seemed to be under the impression that I was moping – I was not, I should inform you: you are the one who mopes – and while many of her suggestions were for people who are moping (which I was not doing), one did stick out to me as recommendable for entirely separate reasons to the moping I was not doing.

Would you like to visit? It is only right, after all, since I spent so long in your home that you should get to do the same here. It would only be a month or two, I am under no misconceptions that you will be able to spare much more time at all, but it would be most pleasant to have you here.

I have asked both my mothers and they are more than happy to host you, so long as you pull your own weight (I did tell them that princes do not spend all their time at parties or suchlike and do have their own jobs but neither seemed to believe me), so if you can get away, I would welcome…

“Can you come and play with us?”

Cantasië looks up sharply, surprised at the sudden loud voice by her ear, and accidentally blots her pen nib against the paper. Both her younger sisters stand right next to her, having apparently snuck up while Cantasië was invested in her letter.

They both have intense pleading faces on.

“I’m writing.”

“Who to?” Solorávë asks, leaning forward and trying to read the page but Cantasië folds it over.

“That’s none of your business Rávë. Now buzz off and irritate someone else.” She waves dismissively and bends over the letter again.

“But the post goes tomorrow morning and you can’t think you are going to get to town in this weather!” Elenairë exclaims and, as if to punctuate this point, there is a giant fork of lightning that pulses through the sky followed almost at once by a roll of thunder. “You have an entire week to finish it so come and play with us.”

Cantasië rolls her eyes. “Maybe I am going to go through the storm.”

Elenairë’s face falls but Cantasië doesn’t have time to dwell on the matter before Solorávë is trying to read the letter over her shoulder and upside down.

Cantasië hurriedly turns the paper over. “Get out, you two,” she says, “I’ll play with you tomorrow.”

Solorávë falls back dramatically, one hand over her forehead, taking it all in good heart. “You wound me, nésanya! That you do not trust your own flesh and blood with the secrets of your admiration,” she says and has to dance out of the way of being almost hit with the heavy volume of ‘The Guide to Nautical Knots and Other Important Seafaring Skills’ that Cantasië was using to lean her writing on.

Solorávë’s expression falters slightly when her gaze lands on her other sister.

Elenairë stands in the corner, her arms crossed and with a dark scowl on her face. For a moment, it looks like she might say something scathing but then she just turns around and storms from the room.

“It’s only a game!” Solorávë calls after her, sounding thoroughly confused. “We can play something else, if you want!” She throws Cantasië an apologetic look before she gives chase. “I’m sure Emil…”

Her voice is drowned out by another roll of thunder.

Cantasië shakes her head, reorganising her things to continue with the letter and adjusting the blanket around her shoulders: it’s getting chillier in her window seat.

She does wonder at what has been upsetting their sister this past fortnight and sending her into such unpredictable moods but she is sure that it will come to light eventually.

There is no need to be too concerned about it.

…so if you can get away, I would welcome the company. And I would love for you to meet the rest of my family! They’re all rather eccentric but I am sure that that is right up your alley, considering your own relatives.

Plus, I need someone to accompany me on my new pipes – it is all well and good to give me such a lovely present and it is an utter joy to play but it would sound so much better with your violin joining in (I admit that I may have been getting just a tad spoiled with how much we played together).

I must sign this letter off early so that I have a fair chance of getting through the storm to the post office without getting blown off course. Please think about my offer.

I hope you stay well and that your brothers are not being too impossible in their teasing,

Your love, Cantasië

Cantasië signs the letter with a particularly generous swish of her pen and lets the paper dry as she packs away her writing kit – a present from Makalaurë’s father when she arrived in Tirion. It is a beautiful gift and she had felt rather embarrassed when she had only a simple mother-of-pearl dish to give.

Makalaurë had said that it was quite alright: his father had found the thing fascinating and that was enough for the present to be brilliant in his eyes. And that she had anything to give at all certainly contributed as Fëanáro had not been expecting such diligence on her part to keep up with Ñoldorin traditions.

She smiles slightly at the memory of how earnest Makalaurë had been, framed by the light of Laurelin and trying to very earnestly explain that it was really alright. It had been comforting to know that he had been clearly as nervous about the visit as she had been.

She tucks the sealed letter in her leather messenger bag and pulls on her oil coat and boots to brave the storm outside.

“I’m just off to town Emil, Ambi! I’ll be back in about half an hour!”

She doesn’t wait for an answer before she pulls the door open and braves the storm outside.

#Maglor #Maglor's Spouse #OC: Cantasië #Fae's OCs #Maglor x Maglor's Spouse #tolkionocweek #Silmarillion #Tolkien #Fanfiction #Fae's Stuff

[ibrithir-was-here]

Right, last drawing for the night, have some quick sketchy Feanorians and their spouses for the upcoming romantically themed holiday

#my art #my ocs #tolkien #lotr #silmarillion #I’ve decided that Fingon and Naeril are cousins on his mother’s side #and they were pleased as punch to land matching spouses #antalitse #was an apprentice of Feanor who Feanor was probably more pleased about curufin marrying then even curufin #they basically had one of those #wait we’re dating? have been for years thanks for noticing relationships #naeril #Maglor #maglor’s wife #and I just like caranthir and haleth and so didn’t want to make up a separate character for his wife #they just have their own private side plot marriage and try to stay out of family drama #haleth #caranthir #haleth x caranthir #curufin #curufin’s wife #russingon #maedhros #fingon

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Do you have any personal headcanons about Celebrimbor's mother and her relationship with Curufin? I always thought that it's weird we don't have even the barest information about that considering Celebrimbor's unique position as the only next gen Feanorian. (Sorry if you already talked about this somewhere!)

thanks for the ask! i have, but i'm not going to pass up an opportunity to blather on about my ocs for several paragraphs

curufin's wife (she lacks a name because i hate giving characters names and will delay it until i absolutely have to) is noldorin, she lives in valinor in the years of the trees. i haven't thought much about her family, but i suspect they're middling nobility at the highest the did-valinor-have-social-classes debate is a whole different rabbit hole. she's a metalworker like her husband (she probably specialises in a slightly different subcategory but idk enough to say what) and is a member of the same tirion artisan guild. it's in that context that they meet and begin their Intense Crafting Rivalry

you know that trope where a pair of rivals are so obsessively devoted to one-upping each other it's blindingly obvious that what they actually want is to kiss? that's them, that's their relationship. their specialties are just similar enough they do a lot of the same stuff but just different enough their approaches tend to be radically divergent. what starts as the two of them trying to prove the superiority of their own artistic circle or whatever evolves into them trying to show up him/her specifically, s/he's wrong about x and i know i can do better, why does my family keep asking if we're dating yet????? their competition gets absolutely ridiculous in ways only a pre-scarcity society can get, like building an entire fountain out of solid silicon specifically because he said she couldn't do it (he actually said shouldn't but screw him (not literally cousin oh my valar))

but yeah. their relationship grows an undercurrent of the-only-one-allowed-to-push-around-my-archnemesis-is-me, and they find themselves fighting back to back (occasionally literally) when tirion guild politics takes a turn for the tirion guild politics. they just slowly come to trust each other, more than anyone else, and soon there comes an appropriately dramatic moment for them to suddenly kiss. they're still always trying to out-craftself each other, celebrimbor grows up in a house that's about 70% forge to the background noise of his parents insulting each other's work, but they're comfortable with each other in a way neither of them could have imagined in the early days, and when things get rough they always have each other's backs

things do, in fact, get rough. maglor won't meet his wife until beleriand, caranthir's relationship with his spouse slowly falls apart along with the political situation in tirion, but curufin's wife is loudly team fëanor. she suffers from an acute case of finwean spouse disease, she thinks going to middle-earth to build their own world is an awesome idea, she's deeply embedded in the tirion artisan scene with an entire social circle as think the same way, and when the inevitable civil war flares up she'll probably be even more eager to fight the fingolfinians than her husband. she goes with him and their-still-pretty young son to formenos, and when the trees get eaten and fëanor does the speech she prepares for the adventure of a lifetime

then, alqualondë. i stand by my conviction that nobody on the noldorin side walked in planning to steal the boats, let alone murder the teleri, but it was dark and the world was ending and everybody had sharp things. like everybody else involved in the first kinslaying, curufin and wife got caught up in the battle because somebody shouted 'they're attacking us!' in the distance. she is at first more trying to stop them from stabbing her, obsidian fishing spears glancing off ornamental steel, but then she lashes out and she hits someone in the chest and -

there was this recurring trope in her and her husband’s endless mutual critique. she’d create something beautiful, artfully devised and elegantly constructed, showing off a whole ton of design principles and doing things with the material no one had ever done. he would look at it skeptically and go ‘okay, but what use is it? what is it for?’

red liquid running down the fuller of the exquisite sword she forged herself, light guttering out of another elf’s eyes as he coughs up blood, she knows, sure as once were the light of the trees, what the piece of metal in her hands is for

the next few moments are a blur. she threw the sword into the water, she knows that. somehow she wound up running out of alqualondë, tears streaming down her face, as buildings burned and people screamed behind her. she found a concealed spot by the road, tore off her armour, peeked outside, and watched. when the fires were dying down and the boats were clearly gone, she mustered her courage and went to save her family

in the centuries to come, very few people believe celebrimbor when he tells them his mother tried to get his father to come back by, among other things, appealing to his better nature. nobody believes that it almost worked. but curufin was still only starting out on the road to hellbeastery, and his wife was his eternal partner-in-crime. right there at the beginning, staring out over a burning city, she saw where the road the noldor were walking would eventually lead them, no matter how much they tried to deny it. no dreams could be worth that, she told him. no ideals. and she was always the idealist, wasn’t she?

she was. maybe that’s why he, who had so very few ideals to mark his path, refused to abandon this one. their discussion rapidly devolved into a screaming argument half the camp could hear, much like curufin’s last argument with celebrimbor, centuries later. soon enough, though, it became clear that he wouldn’t turn back, and she refused to go on, and neither of them could change the other’s minds. the only thing left between them was celebrimbor

celebrimbor was eight (-ish in elf years), and completely freaked out, and eight, and knew almost nothing about what was going on, and eight, and had grown up listening to his grandfather’s dreams, and eight, and was surrounded by adults who very loudly thought going to middle-earth would solve all their problems, and eight, and couldn’t tell why his mother was abandoning them. panicking, on the spot, he buried his face in curufin’s smock to wipe away his tears. when he looked up, she was gone

so yeah, curufin’s wife went back with finarfin, that’s why she didn’t go to middle-earth. she initially stayed with nerdanel because almost everyone else on both sides of her extended family remained by (and later burned) the boats, i’m only just realising the horrible curufin argument probably wasn’t even the only one she went through that night, jeez. also she really needed a hug. the sun rose, alqualondë started rebuilding, and she ended up head of her and her husband’s former mutual craft guild, mostly because nobody else with the skills to do it was left. decades turn to centuries, news slowly filters back from beleriand, and her worst nightmares are proven so awfully right

probably the biggest emotion she feels towards curufin in the aftermath is betrayal. they were partners, in every sense of the word, they took on the world and they did it together, using their constant competition to drive each other to ever greater heights. they listened to each other, they trusted each other’s judgement, and she knows he understood the point she was making. him continuing on anyway, and diving face-first into the void - the elf she thought she knew would never have done that. as time passes by, the grief and the loneliness get subsumed by a deep abiding rage. if she ever sees the thing her husband let himself become again, she’ll throw a welding torch in his face

but that anger, that heartbreak, none of that applies to her son. when the hosts of valinor began gearing up for war - she’s the leader of tirion’s most prominent metalworking guild, she can’t not go. while they’re unloading supplies and siege equipment and stuff onto the isle of balar, she happens to pass by this relatively short dusky-skinned noldo hauling some smithing equipment about. as soon as he gets a proper look at her, he gasps. she looks back in confusion, and then she meets his eyes

later, she’ll hear his tales of his adventures in the hither lands, all of the hardships, yes, but also all of the brilliance. later, she’ll learn about the person he’s grown into, someone she can be unreservedly proud of in his choices and works. later, they’ll talk about the future, about his ambitions of making his grandfather’s dream come true, but with open hands and a light to be shared with all the peoples of middle-earth. for now, though, she wraps celebrimbor in a massive hug, and lets the tears flow down her face, because no matter how much they’ve lost, no matter how deep the darkness around them, right here and now, her son is alive

#my terrible ocs #ask #minkasartyplace #curufin #celebrimbor #assorted textual ghosts #noldor #look with all the shit that's gonna happen to tyelpe the least he deserves is a hug from his mum #i was gonna write that he ~never saw her again but then i realised there's no way she wouldn't join up with the war of wrath army #she was aware of the possibility that the nargothrond thing was a front and he'd been as corrupted as his father #she was studiously ignoring that possibility until if and when it became relevant #which it didn't #i feel like seeing the person celebrimbor became softens her opinion on the exiles #probably makes up with some members of her own family #anyone who's involved in the later kinslayings is still bad people though #she glosses 'feanorian minions' as 'target practice' #she's a reasonably prominent leader of the noldor what stayed behind #specially the ones who would have been feanorians if they'd gone #which is a proportion of the population that shrinks and shrinks as the ages roll on. by the third age she's middle tirion's craft granny #in the kidnap-dads-all-the-way-down au she's perfectly happy to mother celebrimbor's sisters #sometimes i think about making her part-telerin but i feel that undermines her choice after alqualonde #half wanna write an au where baby tyelpe stays with her now #jk i do not have the time #but i had a lot more to say about her than i expected. thanks for asking!

[arofili]

Innumerable Stars 2020 Letter :)

Hello lovely creator, thanks for writing for me in Innumerable Stars 2020! I’m very excited and grateful for whatever you create for me <3

This letter will restate my DNWs, list my likes, give you a brief rundown of my canon preferences, and then dive into specific prompts for each of my requests. I’ll warn you upfront that I tend to ramble, so feel free to skip prompts that don’t interest you and/or use ctrl+F to search for whatever it is you want to write for. I’ve named each of my requests based on the basic idea within it, so hopefully that will be helpful for you!

~~~

Housekeeping:

DNWs:

Non-con

Unrequested dub-con

Abusive/Neglectful parenting (especially wrt Fëanor)

Sibling incest, parent-child incest (cousin pairings are fine)

Unhappy/Unhopeful endings (unless otherwise specified)

Jealousy/Possessiveness

Cheating

Character or ship bashing

Hanahaki/any scenario where unrequited love is physically damaging

Soulmates, especially soulmate AUs (soul bonds are OK, if there is choice involved)

Porn without plot (Porn with plot is fine!) - the exceptions to this are Russingon and Finrod ships

Food involved in sex

Unrequested Modern AU

Non-trans mpreg

If you’re writing a slash ship where the characters are/were married to/involved with someone outside the ship, please don’t have the character(s) hate their spouse or not have been actually in love with them (the one exception is, again, Finrod; I’m fine with him and Amarië not having been actually in love, but please don’t do this for anyone else, especially not Fëanor)

Hobbit/LOTR-specific DNWs:

The concept of a dwarven “One”

Any Fíli pairing

Alfrid

Legolas or Gimli paired with anyone other than each other

no smut for these fandoms, please

Silm-specific DNWs:

Evil/irredeemable/incel Maeglin

Elwing bashing

Fëanorian bashing

Over the top Fëanorian apologism (they did bad stuff; it was at least partially their fault. you don’t have to address that, necessarily, but don’t rewrite the story to claim they were blameless)

Fingon with a wife

Fingon or Maedhros ships that don’t take Russingon into account (polyamory, an open relationship, Mae with someone after Finno dies or vice versa for an AU, them with other people while they’re separated on the Ice/in Angband - all of these scenarios are fine, but in the end I need them to be with each other first and foremost)

Dark!Maedhros

Elvish re-embodiment after death being an actual, literal rebirth that requires the characters to have a second childhood; I much prefer them being granted a new hröa in their prime (feel free to explore what “in their prime” means, though, especially wrt scarred and disabled elves)

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Likes:

Gen fic

Found family

Family dynamics

Loving families, even when things get complicated

Friendship, intense/important platonic relationships

Relationships that defy categorization

Queerplatonic relationships

Polyamory

Queer headcanons (especially aromantic-spectrum headcanons)

Trans/nonbinary headcanons (genderbending is also fine, but I prefer trans/nb hcs)

Angst with a happy ending

Gray morality

Explorations of magic

Most tropes

Fanon and fandom tropes

Deconstruction/Inversion of fanon and fandom tropes

Interspecies relationships

Peredhil

Secret relationships

Secret relationships coming to light

Secret kids (especially secret peredhil!)

Giving ships OC kids

OCs interacting with canon characters (please no OCs without any canon characters around)

Confessions of love

First times

Hurt/comfort

Redemption, forgiveness, mercy

Ironic foreshadowing

Canon divergence AUs/X Lives AUs

Fairy tale AUs

Politics and scheming

Resolving conflicting canonical details

Historical/Narrative bias affecting what is and isn’t “canon” (to an extent; changing motivations, consequences, etc is great, but please don’t ignore canon entirely)

Elrond & Elros having complicated relationships with both their bio and adoptive parents

Names fitting the time period (Quenya names in Valinor, please; if this is difficult for you, that’s okay, no pressure, but I do strongly prefer it)

Names having a lot of thought put behind them (does the character go back to their original Quenya name upon rebirth? or do they keep their Sindarin name? or come up with something else entirely? do they hate their new Sindarin name and resent having to use it, or do they embrace it? As long as you put some thought into it, I’m sure I’ll like whatever you decide!)

Author’s notes where you explain your thought process, if you want; I love hearing how the story took shape!

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Preferences re: Canon:

LaCE compliance is always completely optional. If you do want to include it, that’s great, but if you just want the characters to fuck without having that be an issue, go for it. I love explorations of LaCE that take into account the exceptions, boundaries, definitions, etc; I also love takes that emphasize that they are Laws and Customs, not biological imperatives.

I’m not picky about my Amrod deaths. He can die at either Losgar or Sirion (or, hell, some other time/place if you make it interesting enough!), whatever works best for the story. I do like Lightly Toasted Amrod, aka he almost burns to death at Losgar but survives/gets rescued at the last minute.

Gil-galad theories are all very fun. Please don’t make him the son of Fingon and a wife; if he’s Fingon’s son, I want Maedhros to be involved at least a little bit (adoption or trans mpreg are both fine in this scenario). Otherwise, I don’t have a particular preference, though if it’s not really relevant I usually default to the son of Orodreth (who is in turn the son of Angrod).

Honestly, when it comes to theories and headcanons, my rule of thumb is “convince me”! I’m down for whatever, for the most part, as long as you can justify it :)

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Prompts:

“The Russingon Request”

For all of the characters and relationships in this request, I would really love to have Russingon involved in some way, though it doesn’t necessarily have to be the focus.

Fingon/Maedhros: I just love them a lot!! They’re probably my favorite pairing, and I adore both plot-heavy explorations of their characters and relationship and more slice-of-life fluff/angst/porn stuff without any particular story behind it. If I need comfort fic this pairing is my go-to, and I’d love to have more of that to come back to. This is a ship where PWP would be welcome; plot is also excellent and I’m sure to enjoy that too. I’m always a sucker for falling in love / confessions of love / first times, but ESPECIALLY for Russingon; the beginning of their love story is something I’ll never get tired of. Established relationship, reunions (after the Ice/Angband or after time spent apart in Hithlum/Himring or after leaving the Halls or another scenario) are also amazing. The secret relationship aspect of this ship is very fun, both keeping things secret and having their secret come to light. If you wanted to invert that trope, though, I would definitely enjoy that; I wrote a fake dating AU for them that was SO fun, and things like that or an arranged marriage AU or something are very very fun ideas! I like scenarios where they’re married, and I like scenarios where they’re not married, whichever floats your boat will be excellent. Honestly, I’m likely to enjoy almost any Russingon content you write; I just... *clenches fist* love them... If you wanted to explore a queerplatonic interpretation of them that would be really cool, but I do love love love romantic/sexual Russingon and would be overjoyed to have any content about them!

Fingon: I adore Fingon on his own - he’s brave and valiant and good-hearted and deserved better ;-; If you wanted to write a Fingon-focused story that touches on his time as a prince or a king or adjusting to re-embodied life in Valinor or his relationships with people other than Maedhros, I am sure to love that.

Maedhros: Maedhros is probably my favorite character in the Silm. I love his character arc, the fire symbolism, his trauma and recovery, his relationship with his brothers and his cousins, his time helping Maglor care for Elrond and Elros - really all of his story. For this exchange I’d rather not receive a fic focused on his time in Angband or his death; I can enjoy fics about that, but I’m looking for something a bit happier here. Art of Maedhros in those situations would be okay.

Fëanor & Maedhros, Fingon & Fingolfin: Stories about these two with their fathers would be lovely. I’d prefer something that shows them as both part of loving families, even when things get difficult; this could be Fingon struggling with wanting to tell his father about his boyfriend, or Maedhros trying to talk some sense into his dad after his latest outburst, but I need there to be genuine love and respect all around even if the situation remains unresolved. Put another way: angst is fine as long as there’s a happy/hopeful ending!

Fingolfin & Maedhros: There’s a lot of fic about Maedhros and Fingolfin during his recovery period and the decision to cede the crown, but I’d love to see them in some other context! Fingolfin helping his nephew adjust to Finwë’s court? Fëanor grudgingly approving of the kind way Fingolfin deals with a young Maedhros? Maedhros trying to intercede with Fingolfin on his father’s behalf? Or in Beleriand: a meeting at the Mereth Aderthad, or some other reunion? Fighting together on the battlefield? Fingolfin coming to Maedhros for advice, or vice versa? Fingolfin cornering Maedhros about his relationship with Fingon? Epistolary fic where they’re talking about politics? I think they had a lot of respect for each other, even if the relationship wasn’t always very friendly or easy, and I’d love to see that explored.

Fingon & Turgon: Turgon is my problematic fav! I see him as having a very complicated relationship with Fingon, especially if/when he finds out about Russingon. My headcanon is that Turgon loves and admires his older brother, but they’re very different people, and he absolutely disapproves of his boyfriend, especially after the Ice where he blames the Fëanorians for Elenwë’s death. Some angst between these two on those subjects (on the Ice, in Beleriand before/after the Rescue, shortly before Turgon leaves for Gondolin, their last reunion at the Nírnaeth, a reunion in or after the Halls) would be amazing - though again, I’d like a happy/hopeful resolution.

Maedhros/Turgon: Speaking of Turgon... Okay, this is a weird one, I’m aware, but stay with me. In my mind, Turgon hates the Fëanorians and blames them for his wife’s death and all the awful things that have happened to him and his family, and since Fëanor himself is dead he shifts all that blame onto Maedhros (and there’s the added resentment that Maedhros is fucking Turgon’s brother). Of course he also blames himself but he doesn’t want to admit that. Maedhros on the other hand (which he only has one of) doesn’t like Turgon but he also blames himself for a lot of the bad things that have happened and basically this all comes to a head after Fingon’s death where they’re both grieving and angry with each other and themselves. This ship would probably require some sort of canon divergence that lets Turgon leave Gondolin for at least a bit, or it could take place immediately after Fingon’s death, before he’s returned to his hidden city. It’s really all about the hatefucking! Fealty - Mae already had a fealty kink from Fingon’s time as king, and now he’s swearing loyalty to Turgon as the new High King... Maybe this is the immediate aftermath of the Nírnaeth and everything is super raw, or maybe it’s some sort of AU where Turgon gets off his ass and tries to unite the Noldor against Morgoth when Ulmo warns him about Gondolin’s fall and he has to confront his least favorite half-cousin. Comparisons between Fingon and Turgon’s physical appearances would be great, Maedhros almost letting himself forget that Fingon is dead for maximum angst, but then Fingon was short and Turgon is almost as tall as Mae is so the illusion is shattered and also Turgon just REALLY hates that Maedhros was genuinely in love with his brother because it would be easier to despise Mae if that was all manipulation. Mae not taking care of himself and purposefully pissing Turgon off and letting himself be manhandled. Turgon who hates how much this is all turning him on. Just a lot of resentment and angst!! For this specific ship, angst all the way through / no happy ending is fine; I can’t really imagine a happy resolution here, lmao.

Fingon/Finrod/Maedhros: This is combining my two exceptions to the “no PWP” rule; a non-smutty fic with them is also welcome but most of my ideas are decidedly smutty, lmao. Look, Maedhros and Fingon are ridiculously in love, and Finrod is a bit of a hoe, and I can’t believe there wasn’t at least one time they had a threesome. Finrod getting fucked by both of them at once would be excellent. Finrod is canonically friendly with the Fëanorians in Beleriand and goes hunting with Maglor and Maedhros, maybe this is a time where it’s Fingon instead of Maglor and they fuck in the woods, or Maedhros and Fingon visit Nargothrond, or Maedhros and Finrod visit Barad Eithel, or Fingon and Finrod visit Himring. Is this a planned encounter? Something spontaneous? Is Finrod seducing them both, or are they inviting him in? Did Maedhros and Finrod have a fling in Valinor, or did Finrod and Fingon find comfort together on the Ice, or both? I’d love to see where you take this!

Worldbuilding tags: These are of course completely optional, but if you wanted to explore these topics in your Russingon fic I would be very happy! Post-reembodiment fic where Mae and Finno get to be happy and soft are a balm to my troubled soul, especially if there’s some kind of leftover angst and desperation around worrying they’ll wake up alone; really lean into the hurt/comfort here! I mentioned the fealty kink thing earlier, but that’s an incredibly juicy aspect of their relationship in Beleriand that I’d love to see explored. If you decide to have them married, exploring marriage bonds/soul sex/telepathic communication would be really cool; in my DNW I mentioned that I don’t like the concept of soulmates (for Aro Reasons) so please steer clear of that, but having Mae and Finno choose each other over and over again and that affecting their soul bond/mental connection might just bring me to tears ;-; I’m also interested in explorations of the Halls of Mandos: for example, a reunion there helping Maedhros heal, or them being kept apart and finally getting to reunite after their rebirth, or how that healing process affects the forgiveness and redemption required for Fingon to come to terms with what Maedhros did after he died. 

The bottom line for Russingon is that I Love Them and they love each other, and for this request I’d love PWP, fluff, hurt/comfort, falling in love, getting together, reunion, established relationship - really almost anything with them would absolutely make my day!

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“The Turgoldo Request”

Turgon: Like I said before, Turgon is my problematic fav. I’m fascinated by his anger, bitterness, and hypocrisy; it breaks my heart how he loses everyone close to him but Idril; I don’t really approve of his isolationist politics but I’m interested in exploring what shaped him to get there. To me Turgon is “lawful neutral,” though in his mind he’s “lawful good” - he has a strict moral code that doesn’t always take into account all of his personal failings or other people’s differing life experiences. He is staunchly resentful of the Fëanorians, especially Maedhros and Fëanor himself; he blames them for the majority of his problems. He’s got anxiety, he’s traumatized by the Helcaraxë, he’s an overprotective father, he doesn’t have a lot of communication skills. I could go on - but here’s a link to a post where I talk about my headcanons for Turgon and his relationships. So: Turgon-focused fic that emphasizes his angst, loneliness, stiff-necked morality, etc would be great. Feel free to lean into the melancholy aspect; a fic about him doesn’t necessarily have to have a happy ending, though I’d prefer something not outright tragic.

Maeglin & Turgon: The miscommunication here is just...painful and so very very fun. I really do think Turgon loved his nephew, but he’s SO bad at expressing it, and Maeglin has trouble believing any affection he receives is genuine. But some happy moments between them would be great; maybe post-reembodiment reconciliation where Turgon assures Maeglin that he doesn’t hate him? Or an AU where Maeglin confesses to Turgon what happened to him when he was captured? Going along with my Turgoldo request, maybe some extremely awkward conversation about being in love with your cheerful blond cousin...? There’s lots of opportunity for angst and hurt/comfort, and I’d love to see some of that here, though again please make sure to have a happy/hopeful ending, at least of whatever snippet you end up writing.

Finrod/Turgon: This is my rarepair to end all rarepairs tbh. I honestly don’t know why these two are not shipped more! I am desperate for any and all content with them, I am not picky at all, I just love them.

Fun times in Aman before things get dark and serious would be lovely, I think in that context their relationship would be more casual (or at least they’re trying to make it casual and that leads to hurt feelings). I’d rather not focus on their relationships with their canon love interests, mostly because I’m not a fan of stories about jealousy (also because I see both Finrod and Amarië as gay and together mostly for convenience’s sake), but I do ship Elenwë/Amarië so those two having some sort of arrangement with Finrod and Turgon could be fun. But feel free to just ignore any of that and depict Finrod and Turgon together without their respective ladies!

If you go into Beleriand times, I like: Turgon grieving Elenwë and finding solace with Finrod; whatever went down that night by the river they never wanted to talk about again; helping each other build their hidden kingdoms; Finrod sneaking into Gondolin maybe??; repressed Turgon being angsty about discovering his bisexuality and Finrod either helping him or making things more complicated; Finrod missing Turgon and trying to distract himself in Nargothrond (maybe in combination with another Finrod ship? honestly I ship Finrod with any dude that moves, feel free to put your own spin on his relationships, though I would prefer a focus on Turgon/Finrod for this request).

Post-reembodiment scenarios would also be great. I think that whatever the situation between Amarië and Finrod was, she’s moved on from him by the time he’s reborn; maybe she’s with Elenwë now, which would make Turgon’s life a bit easier. Or maybe Turgon can make room for both Elenwë and Finrod.

Or maybe you want to do an AU with them! Supernatural creatures? Some other fantasy setting? A space opera? Honestly the only AU I wouldn’t be interested in is a modern AU, I’m very picky with my Silm Modern AUs. Honestly like I said earlier, I would love ANY content with Finrod and Turgon, you’d make me very happy if you depicted them together!! Feel free to ignore any of the stuff I said if you’ve got a better idea!!

Glorfindel/Ecthelion: Okay this one isn’t really that related to the other ships and characters in this request, but I do really love this ship and if you wanted to write something about them I would absolutely enjoy it. I don’t have a ton of ideas about them (maybe they’re husbands? a comedy of errors that ends with them getting together? mutual pining for an absurdly long time, maybe even that they’re aware of but don’t act on for years?) but they’re very sweet and I love them. If you wanted to include them in the background of a Gondolin-era fic, that would be great; or maybe some sort of compare/contrast fic with Finrod and Turgon, another blond/dark haired ship :P Or just write some fluff centered on them, that would be welcome too!!!

Worldbuilding tags: Military strategy and tactics around the Hidden Kingdoms seems like a good topic to build a fic around for Turgon and Finrod, especially considering their strategies are so different from those of Fingolfin and Maedhros, who did more to fight the Enemy but whose realms fell long before Nargothrond and Gondolin. Or you could explore what it’s like to live in isolated, insular Gondolin, and the mixed Sindar and Noldor cultures there, what prejudices might be found among high society, etc...go crazy with headcanons and worldbuilding!

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“The Túrin Request”

I didn’t put down ships here that include Túrin/Beleg, but I do take that as basically canon, so some angst about Beleg’s death and Túrin’s love for him would probably come up in any of these situations. Or feel free to keep Beleg alive and throw him into the mix if you feel like it!

Finduilas/Gwindor/Túrin: I JUST THINK THEY COULD HAVE MADE IT WORK, YOU KNOW? There’s some juicy Túrin/Gwindor lines in COH, Túrin has a thing for blonds so I can see him developing feelings for Finduilas even if he didn’t necessarily have them in canon, Gwindor and Finduilas’ doomed romance just breaks me and I want to FIX it!! If they had been better at communicating, maybe…idk, this could be a fix it or not, but they’re all drama queens and they’re all in love with each other and what if Túrin had managed to save Gwindor and Finduilas and they all went to Brethil together, or something?? Who knows I just need them all together! The Finduilas is Gil-galad worldbuilding tag would be a great option here for a fix-it :)

Maeglin/Túrin: I feel like I’m the only person sailing this ship but I will go down with it. So WHAT that they never met in canon?? They have MATCHING SWORDS and they’re both doomed by family curses and I think it would be incredibly sexy of Túrin to go to Gondolin. Or maybe Maeglin and Aredhel escaped to Nargothrond (perhaps with Celegorm and Curufin?) and that’s where they meet? What if their curses cancel each other out and they help each other avoid their dooms! What if Maeglin tries to duel Túrin for the right to wield Anglachel! What if Túrin also has a thing for Idril (again…he’s got a thing for blonds, especially blond elves) and they bond over being jealous of Tuor and then fall in love! What if they refuse to acknowledge the insane amount of sexual tension between them until some incredibly inopportune moment like Idril and Tuor’s wedding! So many possibilities and I just adore the concept of this ship!!

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Celebrimbor/Maeglin/Túrin: I like to call this ship “Doomed Disaster Boyfriends.” I think this works best in that Maeglin in Nargothrond AU; Celegorm and Curufin have been exiled but Celebrimbor and Maeglin and Aredhel stayed behind in Nargothrond when they left, or maybe Aredhel went with them but Maeglin didn’t, or maybe Aredhel fought in the Nírnaeth and didn’t make it through the battle or something. Although if you wanted to take the Gondolin route instead, where Tyelpë makes his way to Gondolin after the Nírnaeth and Túrin joins up with Tuor instead of heading to Brethil, that would be neat too. Or if you want to go a super dark route: Tyelpë was taken captive to Angband after the Nírnaeth, and Beleg didn’t manage to rescue Túrin so he’s in Angband too, and Maeglin gets kidnapped himself, so they all try and break out together…

Anyway: whatever the situation, they’re all horribly doomed, they all have family curses, Tyelpë and Maeglin is a great ship because they’re both smiths and everyone hates their dads, Maeglin and Túrin is a great ship because they have matching swords and they’re both super dramatically emo, Túrin and Celebrimbor is a great ship because honestly of course it was Tyelpë who reforged Anglachel into Gurthang and they were both kind of outsiders in Nargothrond - anyway just. Throw them all together into one screaming angsty mess that probably ends up even worse than in canon, I would LOVE that. And Tyelpë outlives both his boyfriends and eventually falls for Annatar who unbeknownst to him had a hand in both their awful demises... Though again I’d prefer a happy ending for a fic here.

“The Kidnap Dads Request”

Elrond & Gil-galad: I have two scenarios in mind for this - either Gil-galad is taking Elrond (& Elros?) under his wing during the War of Wrath and having to reassess his feelings about Maedhros and Maglor, OR Gil-galad is the son of Fingon and Maedhros and therefore considers E(&E) his brothers because they’re also the son(s) of Maedhros.

Maedhros & Maglor & Elrond & Elros: Kidnap Dads!!! I love Kidnap Dads!!! Please make sure to include Maedhros in this - his dynamic with the twins can be different than Maglor’s, but I want him to be involved in their care and upbringing too. Anything from fluff to hurt/comfort would be amazing; you can write E&E learning to trust M&M, or after they’ve come to love each other, or some time in the future where Elrond and/or Elros looks back fondly on their foster parents. Please, please no bashing Elwing and Eärendil. However - their bio parents interacting with their foster parents in awkward/humorous situations would be great. I think the twins have a very complicated relationship with all their parents, and diving into that would be really interesting - or you can just lean into the fluffy found family, which I would also love.

Some possible scenarios: an official adoption ceremony, cultural differences, M&M giving E&E some more names / teaching them Quenya, Maglor showing up to Elrond and/or Elros’ wedding(s), Maglor in Rivendell, sharing traditions, Maedhros teaching the twins some skill (cooking? swordfighting? embroidery?), the twins being Weird (either because they’re part human or part Maia) and M&M learning to deal with that, Elrond reuniting with Maedhros in Valinor, Elrond getting adopted by M&M’s spouses (Maglor’s wife and/or Fingon), AU where Maedhros lives and is around for E&E’s later lives, Maglor teaching Elrond magical/musical healing

Worldbuilding tags: How did being raised with M&M affect E&E’s decisions when it came to their Choices of kindred? Were there any Men in the remnants of the Fëanorian host, and did that affect their Choices? Where did Elrond’s skill as a healer come from; is it connected at all to the Music, and if so, did Maglor teach him that? How do E&E reflect on their time among Kinslayers, and what is it that helps them come to love their captors/foster parents? Do M&M redeem themselves through raising E&E? As the First Age rolls over into the Second and M&M leave the picture while E&E come to the forefront, what lessons do they take from their foster parents? How do people, especially the other leaders of Elves and Men, react to the obvious Fëanorian influence on E&E? What happens to the remnant of the Fëanorian host after M&M are gone? How do E&E feel about their cousin Celebrimbor and vice versa? These are all just things to think about - feel free to ignore or cherry-pick as you see fit!

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“The Círwen Request”

Círdan/Lalwen: This is a completely unsupported rare pair that I nonetheless really love. In my mind, Lalwen is a political diplomat to the Falas in the early First Age, representing her brother to the Sindar. What happens next is up to you! Círdan and Lalwen as forbidden lovers? Círdan and Lalwen as an arranged marriage? Círdan and Lalwen as the parents of Gil-galad? Círdan and Lalwen in a queerplatonic relationship rather than a romantic one? Any of these would be great to read about! Bonus points if Lalwen gets a sword!

Lalwen & Fingolfin: Why did Lalwen follow Fingolfin to Beleriand when Findis did not, and Arafinwë turned back? If we’re going with my Lalwen the diplomat headcanon, why did Fingolfin choose her as his representative? How does he feel about her relationship with Círdan? Or you can focus on some other aspect of their relationship, maybe mirroring the Turgon & Aredhel relationship or the Fingon & Aredhel relationship.

Gelmir: This tag doesn’t specify which Gelmir we’re talking about, but I’d like to request something with Gelmir who was Círdan’s messenger, who went with Arminas to Nargothrond and warned Orodreth about taking down the bridge. He could be a supporting character and a friend of Círdan, or you could have him missing his original lands (Dorthonion) and lord (Angrod). My headcanon is that he and Arminas are in a queerplatonic relationship; if you’re going with qp!Círwen, maybe they could serve as a model for Círdan and Lalwen as they’re figuring out their relationship.

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“The Halenthir Request”

Haleth/Caranthir: This ship dynamic is fascinating to me. Why did Haleth refuse Caranthir’s offer of aid? Was it the result of a falling out between them, or did he have to pursue her all the way to Brethil to explain his feelings? I absolutely love stories that give Haleth and Caranthir a peredhel child or two, especially when that’s a surprise to Caranthir. Maybe Haleth doesn’t even tell Caranthir they have a kid right away, or at all... If we’re exploring LaCE, does Caranthir consider himself married to Haleth because they’ve had sex, even though that’s not part of Mannish culture? How do the Haladin take their Chieftain’s relationship with this weird elf guy? Do Caranthir’s brothers know about his mortal girlfriend? This is another ship where a queerplatonic take would be excellent; I see both Haleth and Caranthir as being on the aromantic-spectrum, and exploring that weird gray space of their relationship would be wonderful. I also love interspecies relationships in general, so digging into the cultural differences and issues that come along with an elf and a mortal being together would be great (also. height differences!!) Additionally: Caranthir is kind of depicted as the grumpy rich bitch of Beleriand, so exploring trade as an excuse for him to visit Haleth and/or historical and narrative biases that depict him and Haleth at odds with each other when they “actually weren’t” are two interesting ways to take this.

Aegnor/Andreth: So, this request is called “The Halenthir Request,” but I also love Aegnor and Andreth. If you could give them some sort of happy ending, or at least a happy middle, I would love that. What really got me to put them here alongside Halenthir is the concept of Aegnor and Andreth having a child that interacts with a child of Haleth and Caranthir! Go crazy with OCs; they can be romantically involved or good friends or bitter rivals or whatever scenario you can dream up :)

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“The Finwëan Drama Request”

So for this request I’m really down for any and all Finwëan relationships! But here are a couple from the tagset that caught my eye :)

Aredhel & Galadriel & Amras & Amrod: The babies of the family! (not counting Arakáno, or you could replace Aredhel with him, or have him be a much later bonus baby, or just have him not exist in this verse) I can imagine all sorts of shenanigans they got up to as kids :)

Amrod & Amras: Would love an exploration of a “twin bond” between these two, similarish to the marriage bond concept.

Celebrimbor & Orodreth: They were both fourth-gen Finwëans, if we go with the Orodreth son of Angrod version; did they grow up as friends? Did they not really know each other until Beleriand? Orodreth was reluctant to follow his family to Beleriand, and Celebrimbor could easily have been dragged along without having much say; maybe they bond over wishing they were still in Valinor? Why did Celebrimbor decide to stay in Nargothrond when his father and uncle left, and why did Orodreth welcome him there?

Celebrimbor/Maeglin: As my friend May said, “maeglin/celebrimbor is really just the inherent eroticism of the man who gave up information under torture loving the man who did not.” I don’t personally subscribe to the Celebrimbor in Gondolin version of events, so I imagine any relationship between them would be post-reembodiment.

Curufin & Celebrimbor: I’m especially interested in post-reembodiment scenarios between them, too. Do they try and reconnect? Does Celebrimbor forgive his father? I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for Curufin to watch Tyelpë’s demise in Vairë’s tapestries in the Halls; how does that affect their father-son relationship?

Curufin & Maeglin: Curufin (& Celegorm) were friends with Maeglin’s mother; does he feel protective of Maeglin? If Celebrimbor is now involved with Maeglin, is this Curufin trying to get to know his son’s boyfriend?

Celegorm/Aredhel: I see Aredhel as aromantic, and I sometimes see Celegorm that way too; a queerplatonic interpretation or a friends with benefits situation would both be something I’d enjoy reading, at any point in their timelines.

Curufin & Aredhel: I imagine that in a Celegorm/Aredhel situation Curufin would be third wheeling them a lot; or maybe not! Maybe they spend time together on their own, or they gang up to prank Tyelko, or something.

Curufin & Finrod & Celegorm: Were they friends before C&C came to Nargothrond? How did that friendship turn toxic and manipulative? Can they become friends again after they’re reembodied? I’d also be down for a threesome situation with them, though this is a gen relationship tag and I’d love that too.

Eärwen & Anairë, Eärwen/Anairë: These two were canonically dear friends, and I love exploring how that came to be - did they know each other before they met their husbands? Do they meet and fall in love after they’re already married and have mixed feelings about that? What is their life together like after the Darkening and the Kinslaying? This is a ship I really love queerplatonic interpretations of, though purely platonic and romantic/sexual takes on them are both excellent, too.

Fëanor & Findis & Fingolfin & Lalwen & Finarfin: Fëanor and his half-siblings...so much potential for drama! Was there a time where Fëanor didn’t resent them so much? If so, how did that anger grow? Was his feud specifically with Fingolfin, or with all the children of Indis? What were family reunions like, especially once they start having kids who befriend one another? After the Flight of the Noldor, how do Findis and Finarfin deal with the loss of their siblings - especially when those siblings start to die in far-off Beleriand?

Fëanor & Fingolfin: I would LOVE a fic that shows some extremely grudging affectionate moments between these two :) Fëanor being like “no, I’M the only one who gets to pick on my half-brother!” or Fingolfin idolizing his older brother or a Fëanor Lives AU where they they get to have the fistfight they sorely needed to have and then settle into a more subdued rivalry or a reunion/apology in the Halls - or literally anything that shows some amount of hope for their brotherly relationship.

Nerdanel & Eärwen & Anairë & Findis & Lalwen: Give it up for the Finwëan Ladies! Four out of the five of them remained in Aman; how do they grieve Lalwen’s departure? Are they all friends, or are there some rivalries in their midst? My headcanon is that Findis is Glorfindel’s mother, but Lalwen didn’t have kids (until Beleriand?) - does Lalwen feel left out among all these mothers? How do these women pick up the pieces of the mess left by their husbands and brothers in the wake of the Flight of the Noldor? I would love depictions of them as politicians trying to mend bridges with the Teleri and the Valar.

Fëanor/Nerdanel: You cannot tell me that this extremely fiery, passionate man who had SEVEN CHILDREN with his wife did not absolutely adore her! Give me some early-relationship or early-marriage spiciness, or them as new parents (for the first time...or not), or them making things for each other - really, anything that shows how much they love each other, before (or even after) it all went wrong.

Sons of Fëanor: Look I just love the Fëanorians. I’m especially a sucker for Big Brother Maedhros, so having him interact with his younger siblings would be amazing, but really any sibling dynamics between Fëanor’s kids is something I’m bound to enjoy, as long as you show their love for one another even when they’re fighting amongst themselves.

Elemmírë/Findis: Vanyarin lesbians!! I see Elemmírë as a woman (specifically a trans woman, though if you don’t want to get into the details of her gender that’s fine), and a major reason in why Findis stuck around in Aman instead of leaving with her siblings. I like the theory that Glorfindel is Findis’ son, which would make Elemmírë his other mother. But if you’d rather depict them as not together at the time of the Darkening, that would be fine too; maybe Elemmírë is upset at the thought of Findis leaving but Findis stays because she’s realized she’s in love with Elemmírë, or something like that. Elemmírë wrote a song about the Darkening, so I think focusing on that time of fear and uncertainty and having them find comfort in one another would be very interesting.

I’ve kind of sprinkled references to the worldbuilding tags throughout these prompts, but I’d also love to see the “queer elves and their communities” tag explored with the Finwëans. I have lots of queer headcanons (feel free to ask me about specific hcs; I have anon messages on!) but I’d also love to see your takes on these characters’ identities! Do homophobia and amatonormativity exist in your version of Aman and Beleriand? How does that affect the queer community; is it underground and secretive or just another sort of community someone can interact with? If there’s not a focus on queerness being “wrong,” what does that mean for queer folks who want to find other people like them? Do things change in Beleriand - are the Sindar more or less accepting; do the Noldorin realms establish themselves differently than Tirion or Valmar did? I’m very curious to see your take on this!

~~~

“The Gigolas Request”

Gimli/Legolas: All Gigolas is good Gigolas, and you can quote me on that - but I do have a soft spot for queerplatonic Gigolas, and I might die of happiness if you wrote me some :) I love elf/dwarf relationships, and cultural differences leading to miscommunication is one of my favorite tropes for this ship.

Legolas/Gimli & ...: I put a bunch of these for this request. For “& Thranduil” and “& Glóin” I’d love to see some “telling the family” scenarios, with Thranduil and Glóin coming to terms with their sons’ relationship. For “& Aragorn” and “& Boromir” I was imagining a Three (or Four!) Hunters situation with Aragorn third wheeling them, and/or a Boromir Lives AU where he and Aragorn commiserate how stupid their friends are about their feelings.

Fourth Age Ithilien Elves: Legolas’ new home in Ithilien is really interesting to me (as is Gimli’s new home in Aglarond, but that group did not get nominated) and I’d love to see an outside POV of Gigolas, what their friends and subordinates think of this odd couple. Or you could dive into what the founding of Ithilien was like, and Legolas’ relationship with Faramir and Éowyn.

Worldbuilding tags: I also love Fourth Age Valinor fics! What was it like for Legolas to give into sea-longing and sail West, and how did he and Gimli come to the decision to bring Gimli along too? What is everyone’s reaction to the dwarf in Valinor? (LOOK I just think people like Finrod, Celebrimbor, Curufin, Maeglin, Aulë, etc would LOVE Gimli!) Or we can backtrack to the late Third Age and look at the trade relationship between Erebor and Rivendell, and between Rivendell and Mirkwood, and how that affects Gimli’s initial perception of Legolas / Legolas’ expectations upon joining the Fellowship.

~~~

“The Durins Request”

For my Hobbit requests, assume I want an Everyone Survives BOTFA AU unless I specify otherwise.

Fíli: I just REALLY love my boy!! (as you can probably see from my url, lol) Any fic that’s Fíli-centric would make me happy, focusing on his familial relationships, political expectations, learning to fight, friends from Ered Luin, reuniting with them after reclaiming Erebor...all that would be great. Please do not write me any Fíli pairings; as you can also see from my url, I headcanon Fíli as aromantic, and this is not a headcanon I am flexible with. Write me a story about Fíli that shows how rich and fulfilling and challenging his life is without any romantic aspect! 

Dís & Frerin & Thorin: I’d love to see something about these siblings; maybe Dís reminiscing on her childhood and comparing Fíli and Kíli to Frerin and Thorin?

Dís/Spouse: I do love that this is not “Dís/Husband” - so take that as permission to give Dís a wife and/or a trans/nonbinary spouse! I headcanon that Dís’ spouse is not a Longbeard dwarf, which leads me to...

Dwarves of Ered Luin: How do the Broadbeams and Firebeards of the Blue Mountains feel about the arrival of the Longbeard exiles? What do they think about the Longbeard princess marrying one of their people?

Fíli & Kíli & Gimli: What if Gimli came on the Quest, or Fíli and Kíli stayed behind? Or, how did Gimli feel about being left out? Was he excited to reunite with his cousins, or still jealous and a bit resentful? Or if we go the canon route, did he feel horrible that he parted with them on not the best terms and never got to see them again? I’d also love some compare/contrast Kiliel and Gigolas parallels :)

Ravens of Erebor: I just think the ravens are REALLY COOL. When did they settle there, and how did their relationship with the Line of Durin come to be? What are raven politics like??

Worldbuilding tags: These seem pretty self-explanatory for the most part, but I’d love to see some post-BOTFA politics both internally within the Longbeard dwarves as they return to Erebor and externally with Mirkwood and Dale. The Smaug’s corpse tag could be some source of contention there; maybe some men want to re-establish Laketown amidst his remains, or they want to relocate him so they can resettle Esgaroth, or the the dwarves want to harvest his corpse for resources (he’s probably got gold and jewels stuck in his scales, and dragon-skin/scales is probably a good raw material for crafting things).

~~~

“The Tauriel Request”

Kíli/Tauriel: As you can probably see from my AO3 profile pic and username (derived from the “she walks in starlight” quote in DOS), I LOVE Tauriel! I don’t so much anymore, but I used to write a lot of Kiliel fic, and I am still very soft for them <3 I’d love almost any sort of AU for them (even a modern AU would be fine!) or a canon-verse everyone lives AU where they get to be happy and domestic :)

Tauriel & Legolas: I love platonic or sibling-esque relationships for these two! I would especially enjoy them growing up together, or Legolas taking Tauriel under his wing when she joins the Guard, or Legolas teasing Tauriel for her crush on a dwarf only for the tables to be turned when he falls for Gimli :D

Tauriel & Thranduil: This is a really complicated relationship - I don’t think Thranduil sees her as a daughter, necessarily, but he definitely feels protective of her and is frustrated when she doesn’t listen to him. I’d love to see the origins of that dynamic, and Tauriel’s side of things as she goes from being fond of her friend’s dad to distancing herself from her king whose politics she disagrees with, or Tauriel returning to Mirkwood after the battle (in an everyone lives AU where she’s just visiting, or in canon where she wanders for a bit but eventually comes home) and them reconciling.

Sigrid/Tauriel: Let’s give it up for our non-canon gals! Okay, I love Tauriel and this ship is so cute. If you’d like to include Kíli/Tauriel in the background (Kíli supporting Tauriel's relationship with Sigrid, for example) that would be great, but a story based in canon where Kíli dies would also be fine; however I'd like it if you acknowledged Tauriel’s feelings for Kíli in some way. Sigrid being all blushy and embarrassed around the hot elf girl who’s hanging around Dale helping to rebuild is kind of what I have in mind, but feel free to take this in any direction you'd like!

Tauriel/Mirkwood Guard OFC: A fling from Tauriel’s youth? A girlfriend she feels torn about leaving for Kíli? A friend she’s always crushed on but never said anything about? Any of these situations would be fun! Like with Sigriel, I’d like it if you acknowledged her feelings for Kíli (if the story takes place in that time period) but otherwise go crazy with this prompt!

Worldbuilding tags: Again, I think these are mostly self-explanatory and they could all definitely relate to Tauriel. How does she become Captain of the Guard - is it because she comes up with some new innovative strategy to fight the spiders? Is Mirkwood very patriarchal, and is that appointment something she faced opposition or competition for? Her healing of Kíli in DOS isn’t ever really explained, so maybe exploring the magic and/or medicine involved there and how she came to learn that. (In my own headcanons, her foster family are healers, which is how she learned those skills even though she’s primarily a warrior - but feel free to take it in whatever direction you’d like!)

~~~

Alright, that’s the end of my prompts/requests! Thanks for reading this far, and whatever you end up writing for me I am super excited to read it!! And if you have questions or ideas or something, my askbox is open and I have anon messages on, I’d love to talk! Thank you again for creating for me, you are the best! <3

#tmi anna #innumerable stars #exchange letter #is20

[lamemaster]

10 Ways You Kiss Your Resident Elf (Maglor x Reader)

Love comes in many forms and your love comes in kisses. Load full of them and unstoppable kisses. And Makalaure loves them. He writes them in every single one of his songs. He weaves them into his songs that he keeps hidden away, songs only for him. 

Kissing in front of your dessert- Makalaure sighs as he examines his plate of cheesecake and yours. And you, his dearest spouse, beam at your plate. “Dessert before dinner because OUR HOUSE, OUR RULES,” your declaration remains unchallenged. Makalaure being the dutiful husband he is fulfills the role and chomps down his piece of cake. In a matter of minutes, the cake is gone and with a frown, you turn to him. “Not sweet enough,” you mutter with a pout. Makalaure is about to object to your intention of another slice when his vision floods with you. A small peck on his lips and your face lights up. “Sweetest,” you say as you make a run without finishing the dinner for the third time in the week. 

Something stuck in the eye- “Wait…by Illuvatar Kano!” You stand and swat away his hands as he almost pokes your eye with his stupid finger. “You can’t do that. You need to clean the debris not pluck my eyeball out.” The said elf looks comically offended, “Alright then do it yourself,” he proclaims but does not step away. “Okay little drama queen just blow some air in my eye you oaf,” you hold open your eyelids as you observe Makalaure inch closer to do as you instructed. With his lips pouted to blow the air when you kiss him. “Sike,” an innocent kiss that is not innocent as you wink at him.

Jump scare kiss- “Boo,” you scream as you jump outside the closet and Kano falls down on his ass. His face is frozen into an unchanging expression of horror. Laughing manically you descend to help your husband stand up. While doing so you bend down and offer your hand to the elf who still lacks any kind of reaction. “Melda?” You question. “Ai, snap out of it.” You wave your hand in front of his unfocused eyes. “Okay, I’m sorry.” You whisper as you bend down and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Then suddenly your feet slip and you find yourself falling towards the ground. From the corner of your eye, you see your dearest husband smirk, and oh boy it's on.

Butterfly kiss- you are sitting in Makalaure’s lap. The warmth of Laurelin’s rays fills your room. You breathe your husband’s lingering lavender scent. His fingers, lined with callouses from his beloved harp, rub unmatched patterns on your back. You turn your face to him so that your eyes line with his cheek. Smiling you lean in and blink your eyes. Your eyebrows flutter on his cheek and your husband pauses. He gives you a questioning look. Shaking your head you continue to bask in each other’s company. 

Flying kiss- The room has burst into chaos. The Ambarussar are running wild chased by Carnistir and Tyelko. Nerdanel stands in the corner with a horrified look on her face. Your mother-in-law looks equal parts terrified and exhausted. Your father-in-law is nowhere to be seen. You marvel at Kano’s ability to be unaffected by everything as he continues sipping his tea. “The twins can come with us,” your voice breaks the chaos. Ambarussar instantly turn to their mother with the most innocent look in their eyes. Nerdanel seems nowhere close to refusing. And Kano looks at you with a deep look of faux hurt as he wipes the tea he spluttered moments ago. “It works right husband?” You question and you blow him a flying kiss.

Curtsey kiss- The court gawks. You bend on your knee, and even with your atrociously fluffy gown you kneel and offer your hand. Makalaure does not seem fazed. Instead, he looks proud. Without a moment of hesitation, he puts his hand in your hand which you kiss with the grace of a knight. Uncaring the pair of you lead the city of Tirion into a culture shock as they watch their prince being led by his wife. You dance unbothered by horrified elves. 

French kiss- You moan and so does he when you tug his hair. Your kiss deepens with your tongues fighting a lovely battle. Kano’s hands explore your body as you both maneuver your way to your bed without breaking the kiss. “Bloody Fuck!” You curse and your kiss is interrupted as your back arches not in pleasure but in pain. “Did you leave your harp on the bed again?”

Morning kiss- Fading light of Telperion still fills the sky. You wake up to a still dreaming Makalaure. Entrapped by your husband’s peaceful expression you find yourself trapped in a dilemma. To initiate a tickle fight or to not. He was taller and somewhat powerful but you could win. However, your twitching fingers could not do it. You find yourself weak at the moment. So, abandoning your former plan for another day you settle for cuddling your husband as you kiss him to land of wakefulness.

Angry kiss- “Don’t go,” you whisper. “I will follow my father.” Your husband’s voice is full of steel and taut with tension. He is leaving Tirion. Going to the desolate land of Formenos. “Your mother stays back. Stay for her sake.” You beg. If not for you, you wish he stays for his mother. Gripping your shoulders Kano looks into your eyes with a wild look. “I will follow my father and if you don’t want to, you don’t need to.” His grip hurts but not more than his words. That day your kiss leaves you broken. Your lips swollen and bleeding are only reminders of your husband.

Goodbye kiss- You can’t. You can’t speak or stop him. He has bound himself to an oath. It is only fair he stands by his family. Avenging his grandfather is his duty. You know this yet, you cannot stop the agony you feel. He is there in your room packing his things and leaving yours. Your closet looks half empty and it rips your heart. You know you should not cry but tears don’t stop as you help him gather his belongings. You will not follow him. You will stay back for Nerdanel. For his mother on his request. “No…no, please. Kano” You caress his face, trying to memorize every detail of him. You’re weak as you kiss him goodbye. You kiss him longer putting all your love, pain, longing, and prayers into that one kiss.

#sons of feanor #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #silmarillion headcanons #tolkein #tolkien elves #noldor elves #noldor #maglor x reader #maglor's wife #angst #romance #fluff

[i-did-not-mean-to]

J - Jewellery

Written for @maglor-my-beloved <3

Words: 900

Pairing: Celebrimbor x Maeglin, Bilbo & Yavanna

Warnings: Sadness & Trauma

Yavanna sat on a tree and hummed to herself.

“Lady,” Bilbo Baggins called up conversationally, “do you think that it was wise to let your husband participate in the healing efforts? Lady Estë seems out of sorts; she’s very worried about this.”

“Ah, dear Bilbo,” the lady of all things growing and flourishing replied in a voice as soft as rustling leaves, “you—of all people—must know best that Aulë and his creatures wither and die when they have nothing to do. Their heart is in the right spot, and they truly want to help, even if their way of going about it seems unconventional at first. Care to join me?”

She winked conspiratorially for—even though she evidently did support her spouse’s involvement—she intended to survey it from a safe distance to be able to intervene if necessary.

“So,” Aulë started grandiloquently, “I have opened my forge for you to…process some of the trauma you have sustained before your…demise.”

This was not going very well, judging by the unconvinced faces in front of him; he wondered how Manwë always managed to find the right words to sway people and move their hearts. Worse, he even pondered Melkor’s singular talents in that domain for a second.

“Have fun,” he finished in a much less powerful tone and returned to tend to his own forge in silence; the two who were here today knew their way around a workshop anyway, and they didn’t need his input—healing or otherwise—just yet.

“They work well together,” Bilbo commented in a soft voice as they watched the scene through the wide-open doors of the forge.

Lómion had only been coaxed out of the Halls of Waiting by the promise that there was one who would join in him Aulë’s new reinsertion program who was just as reticent to talk about what had happened to him as he was.

Celebrimbor on the other hand, had been desperate to get out, but—once reembodied—he had struggled considerably to get used to his hale flesh and the omnipresent shadow of guilt and resentment that haunted his family.

They didn’t speak about their parents—too daunting was the idea of unravelling the tight knot of mutual distrust, disappointment, and visceral resentment that had festered and hardened during the time they had spent apart.

One day, they well knew, they would have to face the truth and work their way through the family tree of the perpetually absent Finwë in their quest for forgiveness and healing—but they were not yet at a point where they could even consider this without shrinking back in dismay.

In each other though, they found a quantum of peace—they were kin in more aspects than could be counted and their souls recognised each other in the flickering reflections of the ever-burning fires of the forge.

Doomed by birth, they had rebelled against their parents—maybe even driven them to some of their most reckless and gruesome acts inadvertently—only to die alone, free or robbed of their protection and love. Such self-inflicted isolation and deprivation had marked them in ways few could even begin to understand.

“Beautiful,” Celebrimbor praised as he apprised the gem his kinsman brought over to set in the pendant he was crafting from thousands of metal tendrils, thin and flexible as single hairs and strong and enduring as mountains.

His eyes wandered from the polished stone to the pale, stern face of his collaborator and he repeated his previous assessment in a breathless, awed voice.

Both had found—to their surprise and relief—that they still delighted in the making of intricate jewellery, but they would refuse to devise rings or set stones into coronets and crowns—too deep was the trauma and too fresh the wounds for such designs.

Moreover, the name of that fallen Maia, who had almost ruined Middle-Earth, was never spoken. Each nurtured his grievances with the one who had pretended to be a friend and who had turned out to be a cruel torturer in private.

“In time,” Yavanna whispered, feeling that Bilbo’s own heart clenched in anger and pain at the thought of the one he had only ever known as Sauron. “You’ll learn the whole story. He was charming, you know? At the very beginning and almost until the end, he was an apt liar and a devastating seducer.”

“I guess,” Bilbo muttered, massaging his hands to dispel the phantom pain of a ring he had not worn nor even seen in a long time. “Will they be okay?”

Yavanna nodded at the forge where the ancient magic of skill and ambition was revived by deft hands, made anew by the grace of the Valar, blending techniques and ideas that had come from another world and another time.

Even as they spoke, Celebrimbor had lifted the delicate pendant off the table and presented it to Lómion in the brash, mute manner of a man who no longer trusted his words.

“It’s…a mole?” Bilbo breathed, amazed by the extraordinary skill the elf displayed. “Incredible! The style…reminds me…”

As Yavanna witnessed the choked sob of recognition and gratitude tearing itself from Lómion’s throat—he was a Nolofinwëan, and thus an ugly crier by nature—and hummed under her breath as her soul shivered in compassion.

“Hmmm, it has a dwarven flair indeed. That, my dear Bilbo,” she murmured, “is also a story for another day though.”

@fellowshipofthefics Here's another one :D

Lots of love from me

-> Masterlist

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #April Alphabet #fotfics april alphabet #fellowshipofthefics #Silm #LOTR #Celebrimbor x Maeglin #J #Jewellery

[lamemaster]

The Regrets That Linger

Maglor X Easterling OC

Warning: Angst Bomb

Summary: “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing, there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.” -Rumi

The air was cold. It was always cold in Hirming. I clutched the blanket that I had intended to get for Maitimo. Now I just had to make it back to his room. Just open the door, walk out, and help my brother.

I focused my attention on the blanket. Its color was the darkest green in a peacock’s feather. It was knit carefully with precise stitches. A small undeserved token of comfort that reminded me so much of home back in Aman.

Maitimo’s door loomed in my view. Sighing I opened the door to be welcomed by a poorly lit room. Despite belonging to the Lord of Hirming the room was barely furnished. It held a desk that loitered with a mess of documents that needed my brother’s attention. The opposite corner of the room was occupied by the closet that was carved by Curvo.

And lastly was the giant bed made specifically to cater to Maitimo, who loomed over everyone. The giant bed that now engulfed the wraith-like figure of my brother.

“Hanno” I forced my feet towards the bed to cover the shivering figure on it. Maitimo’s eyes followed my voice but there was no other movement leave for that. His entire body shook with tremors so fierce that those could be felt through the bed.

I tucked the blanket to ease his suffering. “Hanno” My brother seemed unaware of everything. Fingon’s death had done this to him. My cousin’s death had left him so vulnerable and on the cusp of fading.

“Please look at me Maedhros.” I switched his epessë with the Sindarin name. Ever since his rescue mirrors had become his foe and our mother’s name for him a curse.

“I-I did it!” Whispers of self-blame continued from my brother’s mouth. Ever since the failure of the alliance Maitimo blamed himself. He tortured his fea for Fingon’s demise. This is led to where we are right now.

“No hanno. None of this was your fault.” My arguments went unheard by the panicking ellon. “Here have some of this tea hanno.” I slid a hand under his shoulders, avoiding his hair, to allow him some of the healing droughts.

Maitimo sipped some tea in the midst of his breakdown. Much to my relief, it was enough to calm him down and offer some sleep.

With the panic now subsiding Maitimo held my hand as he murmured unintelligible phrases in the haze of sleep. His hair was a mess after laying down for a week. I wove my fingers in the tangles to soothe his fitful dreams.

Unintentionally I started humming the lullaby my brother had so lovingly sung to me in our childhood. I prayed to Illuvatar, his Ainur, the Valar, and anyone willing to listen to a kinslayer. I prayed all night for the sake of my withering brother.

I knew it was selfish to force Maitimo to stay, to demand him to continue living after being through the worst of fates. Yet, I couldn’t imagine being alive without him next to me. From my very first second of existence I had known him and to be without him on this ruthless land felt like a fate worse than ever-lasting misery.

In the company of my sleeping brother my traitorous mind wandered to her. It had been my fault. Her people had joined the enemy without blinking an eye. I should hate her as an elf, as a Noldo, and as Maitimo’s brother.

I should hate her but I couldn’t.

------------

“It is said that the intensity of henna’s color tells how much one’s future spouse will love them.” the edain woman who stood two heads below me proudly presented her hands to me.

“Then it seems like yours will love you to the end of times, my lady.” A slight redness gathered on the apples of her cheeks. A feature found only in second children, a feature that seemed too endearing. I found it impossible to not trace the intricately drawn patterns on her hands.

As I stared into the kohl-lined eyes that held untainted innocence. “And what about the kohl? Does it carry another tale of your people?” The woman next to me giggled tucking a wayward strand of her braid “My lord, not everything we do carries a romantic background. Kohl is just a protection against infections.”

It felt so easy to smile. Call of Silmarils felt a distant hum when the woman next to me enthusiastically chatted about the most trivial things.

Next to me, the edain wore heavy clothes that engulfed her small frame. From what I heard from some men, people from the East found the West to be extremely cold. In fact, it was clear from the child-like fascination in my companion's eyes just by looking at the piling snow.

“Listening to merchant’s tales I had often wondered if snow felt like the fluffiest flower of cotton that grew in nearby farms.” Much to my amusement, the woman next to me held a handful of snow “And how did you find it to be? Does it stand up to the stories?” I asked the woman whose fingers were now reddening.

Feeling the snow in her hand her nose scrunched as she said “Hmm rather than the softest cotton of our fields I'd say that it feels more like the ever-changing fine sand of our deserts.” I pried her freezing hands off the snow she clutched in her trembling fist.

She muttered thanks putting on the mittens I handed her “Yet, it is quite the opposite.” She flexed frozen fingers. Taking her covered hands I tucked them into my cloak.

---------------

A letter. In a shabby envelope that barely held on to its ends. The handwriting inside it is shabby and unusual. The curve of letters so distinct from that of my kin. It was her, the writing that was worse than that of an elfling. The faint scent that surrounded her lingered on the tattered pages.

To The Lord Who Sings,

I hope you find this letter. I have heard that the summer of Hirming brings the most beautiful scenery to life. The snow melts to reveal the crisp grass and the barren trees bare blooms found nowhere else.

In the past few days, I have found myself learning the language of your people. I struggle with the effortless strokes of the letters that I saw you make so easily. However, since you are reading this I have managed to write something coherent at the least.

I expect nothing in return for this letter. I do not seek a reply or any form of assurance. I am aware that the betrayal of my kin leaves no ground for me to ask that. Yet, I find myself writing this letter in the wake of a sunset. I fear that I left you plagued with bitterness, restless in your own agony. I am afraid that I have added to your burdens instead of lessening them.

I do not ask for your forgiveness for the crimes of my people are irredeemable. I simply want to let you know I never intended to forsake you. How could I ever think of that?

However, the passage of time cannot be reversed. My regrets cannot help but from countless scenarios of if onlys that mean nothing.

So, comfort your heart, my lord. Do not let the resentment strain your views of Hirming.

May the darkest shade of henna grace your hands.

Yours Eternally,

----------------

In the ice-cold cells of a dark prison sat a woman. Her bony fingers were bloody from writing endlessly. The floors are covered with letters addressed to a lord who sings, who plays, who smiles, and broods. Letters that make no sense because of her terrible writing from shaking hands. Piles of unsent letters that carry blood stains from untreated wounds and scraped fingers.

She writes as the breath leaves her body.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing, there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.”

#angst hours #haradrim #maglor #maedhros #fingon #the silmarillion #Silm #easterling #Maglor x OC