#aratacáno

[feanors-silmarils]

Art Commissions of my Tolkien OC's Manó and Aratacáno, Maiar of Námo and the Blue Istari done for me by the wonderful: @liusia-piu

#tolkien #silmarillion #manó #aratacáno #ainur #tolkien oc #silmarillion oc #ainur oc #maiar of mandos #namo mandos #halls of mano #silm art #silmarillion art #blue istari #istari

[blue-istari-stars-of-the-south]

Tûl Harar WIP: Arrival of the Blue Istari

Just a WIP I am working on involving Manó and Aratacáno, and a few of my other OC's. Princess Fisrah of Tûl Harad, a city in Far Harad, helps her father in the welcoming of two strangers.

From high atop her throne that sat just to the left of her father’s even more grandiose one, Princess Fisrah watched the two men approach. They seemed to be a duo of peasant merchants, with their plain clothing and walking sticks, and the princess sniffed at them in contempt. The princess placed her decorated hands demurely in her lap as she only half-listened to the proceedings. Rings and gems glittered and made a gentle tinkling sound as she made the slightest movement. Sumptuous silk made a soft hissing with the adjusting of an arm or the crossing of a leg. A long, dark braid decorated with expensive baubles sat over a slender shoulder.

Normally, it was her brother Hadhokor who would take part in these sorts of things, him being the first born male by their father. But he was away now, fighting in some skirmish. But her father had seen fit to have Fisrah sit in Hadhokor’s place, telling the princess to take leave of her ladies and their gossiping.

“Strangers from the North,” she heard her father, the Lord Azhab, say with a sneer and a wave of a hand. “Why should I welcome you? Do you wish to bring the Elvish war upon us all? Don’t think that we are deaf to the rumors here in my court. There may be a huge distance between our lands, but word travels fast, especially in the caravans. My people have no need for more wars or for shedding blood. They’ve seen enough of that already.”

One of the two “merchants” stepped forward, the taller of the pair, a reddish tint coloring the silvery locks (his looks almost attractive, even, in Fisrah’s opinion), and he spoke, bowing politely to those assembled:

”You couldn’t be farther from the truth, your eminence. We are but humble tradesmen, my friend and I. We wish no trouble on your citizenry”

Fisrah took note of how her father analyzed the man’s words, his eyes cold and shrewd, sitting forward in his chair and rubbing his bearded chin in thought:

“I see. But how do in know that you’re just not trying to trick me with your silver tongue? And your silent friend. What has he to say about all of this? Or have you instead come to my city to kill me and steal my authority?”

The other man’s head popped up then, and Fisrah could almost believe that she saw a flash of anger there on the ageless Elven features. Though the two seemed to be old men clutching tightly to walking sticks, there was something to them that she could not name. She had never seen one of the Elven folk before, only heard the tales, but Fisrah supposed that this is what they must look like.

Who are these men who claim themselves mere merchants?

”Shall I have my guards search you and throw you into the dungeons to let your flesh be torn apart by my tigers for speaking such treasons?”

Flinching at the image conjured up in her mind, Fisrah idly pushed it from her head. She had better things to consider, places to be, other than such horrid and unnecessarily bloody events. How she detested talk like that!

Tension hung in the air then, staring daggers, neither saying anything to the other. 

It was then, that the princess shifted in her seat, moving gracefully to whisper in her father’s ear in a sweetened tone:

”Father, these men are tired, having clearly traveled from afar. Perhaps we might offer some food and shelter? It is obvious they mean no harm.”

Letting out a huff, the Lord Azhab finally sat back, his arms across his chest. It seemed to her that he did take heed of her words, thinking them over before giving his reply to the two men.

”I’ve heard quite enough from you.” Lord Azhab spat, “Not enough from your friend however. I shall like to hear what he has to say as well. I command it.”

Giving another small bow, the man moved aside, giving room to the other stranger. The princess saw how the silent one slowly hobbled forward, his gaze stern and unyielding as that of his fellow merchant (if that was what they truly were). It was like staring straight into the gaze of the Great Judge himself, having one’s very soul on display.

The princess could not suppress the shiver that slid up the length of her spine, swallowing hard. It was far from a cold day, and yet it felt like an icy wind blew right through the room. 

A group of armed soldiers stepped up, hands on their swords and ready to defend their lord. As if mesmerized, Lord Azhab waved them to step back.

What threat is an old and feeble man, in anycase?

Opening his hands in a friendly gesture, the silent one did finally speak:

”My good and mighty Lord of Tûl Harar, we two are bringers of peace. That is all. We bring no weapons or any enemies trailing behind after us. Nor do we have any dubious connections with the Northern forces from Gondor or otherwise. Let us go free, and we will trouble you no more.”

The man’s words took hold of them then, grabbing their attention and not letting go. Even Fisrah tried to fight it, but in the end had to relent to whatever spell was woven by this strange man who wasn’t just a man. And suddenly, the pair became tall and majestic as any king surrounded by subjects, ready to put out a hand and speak an order to them. 

“You…what power do you have that gives you the right to speak to me like that??” Azhab said, standing from his seat, hands clenched at his sides. 

A hush filled the room, as there was no response. Fisrah brought a hand to her mouth, letting out a soft gasp.

Yes, that was what they were. Spies. They obviously wanted to steal the wealth from her father and cast them out onto the street.

“Spies, then. That is what you are. Spies, and snoops.”

Turning, the lord quietly spoke to a man to stood off to the side, head lowered in respect. When Azhab turned back, he sneered:

“We will show you how we deal with spies, in Tûl Harar.”

#tolkien #silmarillion #blue istari #istari #manó #aratacáno #Maiar of mandos #harad #far harad #tolkien oc #silmarillion oc #tolkien fanfiction #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silm #ainur

[very-shootable-messenger]

❛  i don’t think we’ve met yet but you looked like you needed someone to talk to.  ❜

@mano-of-the-halls

(Aratacáno)

"Are you projecting onto me Mr maiar of Mandos who I have seen around but haven't formally introduced myself to Cáno can I call you that, actually I don't care I'm going to call you that who do you think nicknamed the horsemen because it wasn't themselves they stole my names for them" Aerdis said looking to the maiar he was drinking alone looking at the sky sure that actually probably made it look like he needed someone to talk to

"I just stole all this wine, do you wish to join me for a drink, I can lend an ear to you, you look lonley and need someone to talk to did you not or did your friend not follow you to middle earth" Aerdis told offering the maiar a bottle of wine from the rather large amount that was sat near him

@mano-of-the-halls (Aratacáno)

#aerdis #aratacáno #rping #oc aerdis

[quiet-flower-wonderlings]

“I always preferred being on my own than being with people.”

@mano-of-the-halls

(Aratacáno)

“Really?”

Quildalótien frowned at the maia in front of her.

“I love being around people! In more ways than one!”

She smirked – hinting at something else.

But then she laughed.

“Or was that your way of telling me to go away, dearest maia of Mandos?”

She teased. Quildalótien had not expecting to find Aratacáno during her usual evening walk – but to honest it was rather nice to bump into an unexpected company.

˗ˏˋ​ ​ ​​ ​―― @mano-of-the-halls. . . ​ ​​ ​ ​❞

#mano of the halls #Aratacáno #quildalótien answers #rping

[valinorsprince]

 ❛  here, i noticed you lost this earlier.  ❜ 

@mano-of-the-halls

(Aratacáno)

turning to look over his shoulder, the prince's eyes light up once they set sight on the delicate jade hairpin, littered with glass flowers and strings of gold chains at its end. a signature he wore to display his royalty — his eyes widen.

“oh dear illuvatar, thank you.” amaurë turns around completely, his brows knitting upwards. he supposed it must have slipped when he left the banquet for some fresh air.

his eyes meet the maia of námo and he smiles. “aratacáno, yes?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ─── .°୭̥ ༊ ˎˊ˗ ( @mano-of-the-halls )

#·⊰ ꒰🌼꒱ 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 ៸៸ aratacáno ❜‧₊

[thyra-athenor]

Tolkien AU (with Aratacáno)

Thyra wasn’t sure how she ended up around tons of trees that seemed far larger than back home. Or how differently the earth seemed to feel when she slammed into the ground when she fell through a damned portal.

Slowly she stood up and began to look around the area trying to gauge her surroundings before she pulled out her dagger from her hip at the sound of rustling!

“Who goes there!?” She asks holding her dagger out defensively.

@mano-of-mandos

[itilien-vardan]

“Ehem, your Brightness, this might be an insensitive question, but how is it that ye became blind? And why not change it so that you can see? Especially since ye Holy Ones have that ability?”

(Dreamer; I don’t have a blog yet for him so I will reblog it to Manó and Aratacáno blog 😊)

Itilien turned her head in the direction of the Maia’s voice as she paused in her reading as one hand had been gliding across the pages of braille. From the book she had with her when she was stolen. She thinks for a moment,

“I have tried to change it, yet it is fruitless. My mother says there is no changing it, as it was a price to pay for my existence.” Itilien explained to him as she sat back in her chair.

@mano-and-aratacano-of-the-halls

#dreamer

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Hyarnelen

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Nh8MnGf

by astorey_91 (a_silmaril_by_name)

Manó and Aratacáno have been given instructions from the Lord Namo to investigate what is happening to the fëar that refuse to come to Mandos. Their travels to find out take them to Umbar and beyond

Words: 1367, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Hyarnelen

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Maia | Maiar, Istar | Istari, Blue Wizards, Black Numenorean(s), Númenórean(s), Sauron | Mairon

Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Maia | Maiar/Vala | Valar, Maia | Maiar/ Maia | Maiar

Additional Tags: Original Male Character - Freeform, Middle Earth, Gondor, Umbar, The Haradrim, Harad, Ghosts, Blue Wizards - Freeform, Istari - Freeform, Character Death, Mystery, Alternate Universe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Eventual Smut, Blood, Blood and Violence, Blood and Gore, Cults

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Nh8MnGf

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

[ibrithir-was-here]

Commission done for @melkors-4th-silmaril of their OCs Manó and Aratacáno, maiar of Námo! I had a lot of fun doing this one, thanks for the commission!!!

#my art #tolkien #silmarillion #tolkien ocs #other people’s ocs #mandos #Namo #mano #aratacano #commission art #comission #always assume I’m open for commissions unless I say otherwise x) #maiar #feanturi

[wellformed]

Please forgive Manó for his prickly attitude. He may be good at dealing with the dead but he is terrible when it comes to interacting with the living.

(Aratacáno)

(@servant-of-namo)

"Few seem to be good when interaction with the living," Nelyo chuckled, "But very well, forgiveness, for now. I don't give third strikes though."

#servantofnamo

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

“Sit” for the “Loud and Deafening Silence” meme

(Aratacáno)

(@servant-of-namo)

It was one thing to be eyed with distrust by someone walking by, something that he was used to now. It was quite another to be consistently watched from one of the most obvious hiding places Hal had ever seen. On the one day he had taken off from his Ranger duties and gone to enjoy the warm weather at the side of the lake that interconnected Bree with the North Downs. “If you’re attempting to hide, you aren’t doing it very well. You might as well come and sit.” He murmured quietly, dark grey eyes watching the lake surface.

@servant-of-namo

#servant-of-namo #c: hal (halbarad) #Bree/north downs #sit ask

[feanors-silmarils]

Fisrah, Haradrim Princess: *flirting*

Aratacáno: *flirts back*

Manó: *glares at Fisrah* He’s taken, thanks.

#fisrah #aratacáno #manó #blue wizards #Maiar of Mandos #manó is very attached to his man #tolkien oc’s #haradrim oc #tolkien oc

[blue-istari-stars-of-the-south]

Manó in Sud Siccana WIP

WIP in which my Tolkien OC Manó (Maia of Mandos and one of the Blue Istari) has arrived in the city of Sud Siccana and meets the son of Sauron and god emperor Vanimórë (owned by @spiced-wine-fic who graciously has given me permission to write about their wonderful OC ❤️). This is still in WIP form so I’m working at writing this still so it will probably be changed a little bit before it is finished.

As the Servant of Námo was marched down the bright, torchlit corridor, hands roughly forced down to his sides by the armed soldiers, Manó did not even attempt to struggle. It was evident that these Men were well-trained, and the Maia knew that even if he did try to get away, he would easily be tackled. And he could not risk showing his true powers in front of these Men. Especially when he had no idea who it was that acted as lord over them.

It would give away far too much too early. Too risky.

And he did have plans.

And where in the name of the Lord Námo are you, Aratacáno? Why have you left me to this imprisonment?

Though he searched and searched for his fellow Namodur, Manó could not locate him in the sea of consciousness that was the citizenry.

If the rumors from the caravanserai were to be believed, this city called Sud Siccana was home to the god emperor, and from here, he did rule the South with an army that rivaled any in Middle Earth.

The palace was sumptuously decorated, showing off the obvious wealth that this lord held. Secretly, Manó was in awe at it, but he kept that impression to himself. Saying nothing, the Maia could only hope that the disguise of an older man that he enshrouded himself in would be enough to keep him safe from this…this…

As they went, the group passed many a magnificent space; the Maia caught a quick glimpse of a large bathing pool with aquamarine water with white curtains hanging for privacy where one might repose in the steam. Even to Manó it was quite tempting. To have the chance to wash off the dust of the road. Another held a dining room, brilliantly colored pillows scattered around on the floor for sitting and discussing crucial matters.

An elaborately carved door was thrown open, and Manó was quickly hustled through.

Gathering as much dignity as he could muster, the Maia held his head high.

“Wait here.” One of the guards told him, and Manó was left on his own to take in his new surroundings. Fixing his dark robes, he stared around with interest. He had expected to be brought to some throne room and forced to grovel and beg for his very existence. But no, that was not the case.

This was a room with a massive table at the center, shelves of books lining the walls. Scrolls sat unopened, along with other scraps of parchment. A library of sorts, Manó told himself. When he felt it safe to move, the Namodur reached out, carefully examining one of these documents.

A letter from some important king of a Southron land that Manó did not know of. And he did feel his curiosity rise.

With a cautious finger, he broke the seal.

Inside was written a meticulously detailed manuscript that had to do with a battle off to the east, and begging for troops to come to their aid.

Lord Vanimórë.

Was this the name of the lord of these peoples?

Manó spoke the name silently to himself, felt a chill run up his spine at it, skin crawling.

“And what do you think you are doing, hm?”

The Maia jumped at the sudden voice, turning away from the table, his robes swirling about him. His green eyes widened then, as he beheld the one who had addressed him.

A tall man (no, an Elf more likely) stood in the doorway, watching him with keen violet eyes. Manó had never seen such a gaze in all of his long years, one so piercing and sharp, and it seemed to him like falling into pools of purple light. Long dark hair fell around his shoulders and down to his waist, tied back away from the elegant elegant Noldorin features. Clothed in all black with swords strapped across his back, the Elf crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe, the posture hinting at seduction. A little smile played across the Elf’s face.

Overwhelmed by the presence, as if this Elf was staring straight into his ëala and seeing all that was hidden there, Manó felt the breath catch in his throat.

Steadying himself and at once feeling small before the purple gaze, the Maia bowed, placing a hand to his chest in apology.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to pry.” Manó finally managed to say. “I was merely curious.”

The Maia knew that he had to play his cards right with this one. A game of words and intrigue that he was not at all skilled at. Or else, he might find a far worse fate than the short imprisonment back in Tûl Harar. Manó was but a humble servant of the Lord of Mandos. What did he know of plotting and scheming?

How dare he make a Maia, an Ainu of Námo, feel so insignificant!

Anger flared then in Manó’s chest, but was quickly stamped out when the Elf locked eyes, staring him down.

Vanimórë chuckled then, closing the distance between them in a few long graceful strides, swept across the room like a dangerously prideful lion inspecting his realm.

And this indeed was his realm. No one would dare touch this king without the loss of their head and maybe a few other appendages.

Without hesitation, Lord Vanimórë spoke, the voice melodic and commanding all at once:

“I saw you and the other ride through the gates. Have the Valar sent one of their lackeys to come and spy on me? Maybe they’ve come to their senses.”

Head in a storm of thoughts, Manó felt a blush creep over his cheeks as Vanimórë came closer.

A scent of sandlewood.

The Maia a step backward, bumping against the table, sent a few of the scrolls toppling to the floor. Cornered and with nowhere to run, Manó stared straight into the eyes that watched him.

Eru’s name, did this demon have eyes everywhere?

“You…You must have seen wrong, good lord.” Manó replied, scrambling desperately for a convincing lie. “I came here alone.”

The calm smile remained, a dark eyebrow arched, as if completely unafraid and sure of himself in the face of the Namodur. The sight of it irked the Maia, but he kept his words to himself. It wouldn’t do to provoke him.

”Wrong?” Vanimórë said. “I don’t believe so. Especially when you made your arrival so obvious.”

“Sauron’s dark spawn.” Máno muttered, standing his ground.”The Valar speak of you, and not with kindness.”

The lord smirked then, fearsome as any warrior:

”Oh, I am sure that they do. Especially your Master. Isn’t that right?”

#manó #istari #silmarillion oc #tolkien oc #ainur #maia of mandos #silmarillion #tolkien #aratacáno #vanimore #silm #the silm #the silmarillion #blue istari #blue wizards

[sigynthevictorious]

Manó gently kissed a line down Vali’s neck. Typically he didn’t enjoy such closeness, but with Aratacáno gone on one of his long journeys, the Maia was indeed lonely and in need of affection:

“Vali, my friend, touch me.”

(@servant-of-namo)

Vali closed his eyes and enjoyed the attention his friend was bestowing upon them. It was a good agreement they had, friends who simply helped one another out with any urges they may experience. And it was clear Mano was in need of some assistance and though Vali was many things, in this moment he wasn't so merciless to let them go unaided.

"Hmmm, not even a please? I always thought you were so polite" he purred in response, tilting his head to the side to further expose his neck whilst slowly trailing his fingers down the other's chest.

@servant-of-namo

#servant of namo #m; vali #v; friends with benefits #ask

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Manó and Aratacáno in the Harad

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/CsGq1KD

by astorey_91 (a_silmaril_by_name)

Manó and Aratacáno are told to investigate the strange happenings in Middle Earth in regards to the fëar that refuse the Call of Mandos and travel to Middle Earth

More tags are to come.

Words: 1226, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Original Male Character(s), Námo | Mandos, Blue Wizards, Círdan | Nowë, Vala | Valar, Ainu | Ainur, Maia | Maiar, Glorfindel (Tolkien), Istar | Istari, Saruman | Curunír, Gandalf | Mithrandir, Haradrim

Relationships: Original Male Character / Original Male Character

Additional Tags: Tol Eressëa, Valinor, Harad, Middle Earth, Lists, m/m - Freeform, Summary, OMC/OMC - Freeform, Original Male Character - Freeform, OMC - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Elves

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/CsGq1KD

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction