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imakemywings · 1 year

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Why Ship Eärendil/Elwing?

I think there are a lot of good reasons so let’s have a look (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

1. They have a lot in common. Both of them went through pretty traumatic events as children that involved being driven from their homes by an attacking force, losing family to that attacking force (Eärendil’s grandfather, Elwing’s parents and her brothers), and ending up refugees. They’re also at this point the only Peredhil in Middle-earth. There are a lot of difficult experiences they share, which allows them to understand each other on a level people without those experiences can’t as well.

2. They grew up together. They grew up in the Havens at Sirion and childhood-friends-to-lovers is a fire trope as far as I’m concerned. It’s very possible they played together as kids and they were there through each other’s awkward adolescent phases and talked each other through other crushes before they finally got together.

3. They obviously care about each other. We don’t see the details of a lot of marriages in The Silmarillion. Many of them are left wholly to the imagination as to how those characters acted around each other, but Eärendil and Elwing are explicitly devoted to each other.

“Eärendil found not Tuor nor Idril, nor came he ever on that journey to the shores of Valinor, defeated by shadows and enchantment. driven by repelling winds, until in longing for Elwing he turned homeward....” (Emphasis added)

Eärendil attempting his first voyage to Valinor is beset by all kinds of dangers, but it’s missing Elwing that finally makes him turn back and call this trip a bust.

“For Ulmo bore up Elwing out of the waves, and he gave her the likeness of a great white bird, and upon her breast there shone as a star the Silmaril, as she flew over the water to seek Eärendil her beloved.” (Emphasis added)

Beloved remains one of the peak terms of endearment, lbr.

“Then Eärendil, first of living Men, landed on the immortal shores...And Eärendil said to [his companions]: ‘Here none but myself shall set foot, lest you fall under the wrath of the Valar. But that peril I will take on myself alone, for the sake of the Two Kindreds.’

But Elwing answered: ‘Then would our paths be sundered for ever; but all thy perils I will take on myself also.’ And she leaped into the white foam and ran towards him...”

Elwing really said “if you’re damned then I will be too.” Here she accepts Eärendil’s fate, just as Eärendil later accepts hers and chooses the Elven path.

“But when all was spoken, Manwë gave judgement, and he said: ‘In this matter the power of doom is given to me. The peril that he ventured for love of the Two Kindreds shall not fall upon Eärendil, nor shall it fall upon Elwing his wife, who entered into peril for love of him...” (Emphasis added)

Even the Valar recognize how much these two care about each other!

“And at times, when Eärendil returning drew near again to Arda, she [Elwing] would fly to meet him, even as she had flown long ago, when she was rescued from the sea. Then the far-sighted among the Elves that dwelt in the Lonely Isle would see her like a white bird, shining, rose-stained in the sunset, as she soared in joy to greet the coming of Vingilot to haven.” (Emphasis added)

After their journey, even in spite of all their grief, they still find joy in one another. Their marriage is still strong even through everything they’ve seen.

4. They saved Middle-earth together. These two did what no one else had managed and sailed back to the Blessed Realm to get help for Middle-earth. Clearly, power couple moves.

”Yet Eärendil saw now no hope left in the lands of Middle-earth, and he turned again in despair and came not home, but sought back once more to Valinor with Elwing at his side.”

Friendly remind this journey is supposed to be impossible, but they are determined to do it because they know Middle-earth cannot survive without the intercession of the Valar.

“Few of the Teleri were willing to go forth to war, for they remembered the slaying at the Swanhaven, and the rape of their ships; but they hearkened to Elwing...and they sent mariners enough to sail the ships that bore the hose of Valinor east over the sea.”

But for Elwing, the Teleri would not have engaged in the war effort at all; she alone convinced them to help.

“But Eärendil came, shining with white flame, and about Vingilot were gathered all the great birds of heaven and Thorondor was their captain, and there was battle in the air all day and through a dark night of doubt. But before the rising of the sun Eärendil slew Ancalagon the Black, the mightiest of the dragon-host, and cast him down from the sky...”

From start to finish Eärendil and Elwing have been committed to saving Middle-earth from Melkor’s menace and boy do they see it through.

5. Eärendil chooses immortality to stay with Elwing. In a mirror of Beren and Lúthien’s story, Eärendil surrenders a mortal fate to stay joined with Elwing.

“Then Eärendil said to Elwing: ‘Choose thou, for now I am weary of the world.’ And Elwing chose to be judged among the Firstborn Children of Ilúvatar, because of Lúthien; and for her sake Eärendil chose alike...”

Eärendil both trusts Elwing to make this choice for both of them and makes the same choice as her even though it isn’t his first preference.

6. Eärendil named his boat, which becomes the immortal vessel in which he sails through the skies, after Elwing. Can we say romance?

7. Elwing gives Eärendil the Silmaril. In general, most people who get their hands on a Silmaril are not keen to give it up. Yet Elwing passes the Silmaril onto Eärendil without a fuss and never again takes possession of it.

8. Their super rad mythological couple energy. Half-Elven couple who braved the sea to voyage to a realm it was supposed to be impossible for them to find to bring back divine help for their home? Last queen of the forest kingdom who in her moment of greatest despair is lifted up by divine forces and transformed? Hero of the last bastion of the Elves in Middle-earth who uses his mariner skills to make an impossible voyage, bearing back a jewel thought lost forever? Former Elven queen who now abides in a white tower on the sea and talks to birds and transforms into a bird herself to fly up to greet the return of her husband? Immortal captain of a flying ship that slew a dragon and now keeps watch over the stars? They are killing it y’all.

Feel free to add on o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

All quotes in this post are from the “Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath” chapter of The Silmarillion!

Convinced? Not convinced? Try these fanfic recs under the cut:

At the Water’s Edge by crackinthecup - G - 3,349 - Eärrámë is nearly ready to sail. Tuor and Idril’s days at the Havens of Sirion are drawing to an end. It is a time of loss and hope for all, and Elwing is no exception.

Elwing, Survivor by crownlessliestheking - T - Elwing and Earendil after arriving in Valinor.

From the Ones Who Came Before by Krita - T - 5,247 - Elwing was young when Menegroth fell. Melian's line is complicated, but far more so is growing into yourself.

A Glimpse of the Harbor by me - G - 1,925 - Elwing watched for the return of Earendil's ship.

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful by mochimilku - T - 1,185 - Eärendil, Elwing, and the ocean.

Let Us Taunt Old Care with a Merry Air / And Sing in the Face of Ill by me - G - 643 - When Elwing lands in the Havens, she befriends a young princeling from Gondolin.

The One With All the Birds by clothono - G - 46,543 - Elwing and Nerdanel in Valinor in the Fourth Age; a story about children coming home.

So Summer Comes by potatoesanddreams - G - 2,654 - Ada said he would be home by autumn equinox. It is winter solstice now.

Untitled by simaethae - G - E-squared family fluff.

#elwing #earendil #the silmarillion #meta #tolkien tag #let me just be clear I do not want to hear about why you think they were terrible #or why you want to portray them as shit parents #this is not the post for that #I am trying to be positive dammit #starwing #earendil x elwing #mine #earendil defense #elwing defense

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elficially-done-with-life · 3 months

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I think this fandom is really underappreciating Eärendil.

Like, I just recently realized how great he is. I mean, when he had the choice whether he wanted to be mortal or immortal, he actually wanted to be mortal. But when his wife Elwing decided she wanted to be immortal, he decided to stay with her and also became immortal. That is so insane, he gave up the gift of men because he loved Elwing so much. That is great husband material right there. 😅

#eärendil #earendil x elwing #earendil #eärendil is husband material and you can't convince me otherwise

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aureentuluva70 · 11 days

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Earendil/Elwing and Varda/Manwë parallels/associations:

Earendil/Varda are both associated with the stars and light, Earendil bearing the silmaril which itself and the other two jewels were hallowed by Varda and were said to have shone like 'the stars of Varda'.

Elwing is associated with birds and flight, having been transformed into a seabird at one point by Ulmo, and Manwë is, as most fans know, beloved by all birds, but is most associated with the great eagles. (Earendil is also associated with the eagles to an extent, at least in early versions when his name was connected with the elvish words for eagle.) Elwing lives in a tall tower where 'at times all the sea-birds of the earth repaired', and that to Manwë 'hawks and eagles flew ever to and from his halls' 'on the uttermost tower of Taniquetil'.

Elwing's title is the White, while Varda is known as Fanuilos, meaning Snow White.

Manwë and Earendil both have bright blue eyes. '...blue is the fire of his[Manwë's] eyes...' and in the book of lost tales Earendil's eyes are described as 'bluer than the sapphires of the raiment of Manwë;'.

#Earendil #Elwing #Manwë #Varda #silmarillion #tolkien #manwë x varda #Earendil x Elwing #Wanwavoisi

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polutrope · 7 months

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Beacon

for @silmsmutweek Day 2, Prompts: Canon ships, Established relationships, Pregnancy, Teasing, Tender sex, word: trace, and Writer Challenges #1 and #5. Also tagging @nolofinweanweek.

Eärendil returns to Sirion after his latest sea voyage, and Elwing's anxieties about her pregnancy are soothed in the loving arms of her husband.

Rating: E | No warnings Words: 2.3k Relationships: Eärendil/Elwing Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Smut.

On AO3

Eärendil was at sea when Elwing discovered she was carrying their child — children, it was now clear, for in only seven months her stomach had swelled to enormous size. Four little feet, four tiny fists, twin flames kindling inside her.

Though she had wished for it, the thought of bearing children into this fragile world had filled Elwing with dread, at first. She imagined herself a young tree branching too soon. Her roots, which she had believed were mighty and deep, now seemed brittle and famished. When the storm came — and it would come — the gales would tear her from the earth, and her new branches, starved for nourishment, would crack and break in her fall.

So Elwing had cast her thought out like a beacon over the seas, searching for Eärendil to tell him, seeking his comfort. But it had never been easy for them to share thought in the way of the Eledhrim, and she had not found him. As new life increased in her womb, so too did her fears.

The searching tendrils of her thought at last caught his when Alphovral docked at Balar on the way back to Sirion — but already the news had found him, for by now the rumour of the arrival of not one but two heirs of all the Houses of Elves and Men had reached every dock and every home on Sirion and Balar, a dram of hope for a parched people. So it was that when Elwing found the current of Eärendil’s thought it was already whirling like an unruly tide, choppy with excitement, spitting up foam like shouts of joy.

Early the next morning, Eärendil flew off Alphroval even before her mooring lines were cast ashore, his sea legs nearly tripping over themselves as he ran to Elwing. Then she was cocooned in his strong arms, and his lips, sun-chapped but warm and smiling, opened to hers. After kissing her mouth, he dropped to his knees to cover her round belly with a dozen more. This was all much to the delight of all those who had gathered to witness their Lord’s return, but Elwing knew it had not been for their benefit. Eärendil never feigned or performed. He did not need to; he had simply to be himself and he was admired for it, as though he we born to be loved.

For all the thrill of their reunion, exhaustion claimed them both as soon as they fell into bed. Eärendil slipped into sleep with the conclusion of a story left untold, and Elwing followed shortly after, not bothering to tuck herself beneath the sheets.

She found she had been swaddled in them in the morning, when she blinked open her tired eyes to see Eärendil’s brilliant blue ones gazing back at her. She had not slept so well in all the months he had been gone, and the joy and warmth of the moment burst forth as laughter. Hot tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

Eärendil brushed them away with a thumb and kissed the dampness from her cheeks. “I made you breakfast,” he said. “Fruits from the south: pomegranate, melon, and honeyed lemon water.”

“Good. I am famished,” Elwing said, then added with a glance down at her belly: “They are famished.”

Eärendil grinned and caressed her stomach, gently tugging her nightdress up with the motion. He slid one rope-calloused hand over her bare skin. He was dressed in nothing but his sleeping trousers and she could not keep her hand from straying to explore the hard, smooth plane of his chest. Her fingers trailed up to feel the trace of a beard — never more than a trace, and now that he was back among his people, he’d soon shave it off. (“Alas!” he would say. “I will never look the part of a thick-bearded lord of Hador’s house. I fear no one would accept a boy as Lord of Arvernien, so Elda I must be.” But boyish or not, the scruff of a beard on her lover had always delighted Elwing.)

His other hand grazed the inside of her thigh, and she drew in a sharp breath at the frisson of pleasure it elicited; but when he leaned in to nip at her lips with his, she gently kicked him away.

“Enough!” she laughed. “I said, they are famished!”

“Of course, of course. No sympathy for their father’s needs,” he said teasingly. He pushed himself off the bed.

“No, nor for their mother’s.” Elwing smiled, one hand instinctively reaching for him. It fell to the sheets, still warm from the heat of his body.

Sleep had conquered them both the night before, and now a ravenous need for food put off the fulfillment of other desires. But stars! she did want him. She had been as an unquenchable flame these past few months, and no matter how she tried to bring herself pleasure her body demanded more. Now it thrummed in anticipation.

He appeared in the door frame holding the promised tray of fruits and lemon water, as well a generous helping of cheeses and bread.

“Thank you,” she said, and, “Love you,” when she realised she had neglected to thank him before.

Eärendil set the tray down on the bed beside her and crossed the room to prop open a window that had blown shut in the night. The air that drifted in was cool but not unpleasantly so.

Even in the coldest nights of winter, they had once curled up in nests of pillows in Lady Idril’s solarium, every window open. He’d said, with a troubled crease between his brows, that it was because walls reminded him of mountains, and mountains were a trap. Perhaps, in some deeply buried place, walls had reminded Elwing of caves. But she had told him that she liked the air because it was in her blood to love the open sky. Her mother had been a Wood-elf, she said — and had Eärendil heard the songs about her grandmother Lúthien, who danced beneath the stars? She was the most beautiful Child of Ilúvatar! But Eärendil was a boy of ten then, and simply nodded, not knowing how her girlish heart had secretly hoped that he would say he could not believe that, for—

“You are the most beautiful woman to have ever lived.”

Elwing, deep in recollection and with a large mouthful of bread halfway to her mouth, froze and slanted her eyes to the side. Eärendil was propped on his hands against the window frame, watching her with a rapt expression.

“Do you know that?” he asked.

“Stop watching me eat!” Her protest was muffled by the bread and the back of her hand over her mouth. But she returned his smile with her eyes.

Eärendil came to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. “Do you not like the melon?” He popped a cube of the green fruit in his mouth.

“I do,” said Elwing, “but our babies tell me they do not.”

“Ah, well, we won’t argue with them.”

“Tell me about the journey,” Elwing suggested. “Before you fell asleep you were telling me...” She could not remember. “Something about the deserts?”

Eärendil smiled, the timid way he always smiled when he was about to talk of some aspect of his life she was not a part of.

“Stop pretending you’re not excited,” she said. “I know you’re dying to tell me.”

“I am not pretending, izray.” He tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "It was not all excitement. Many long and windless stretches with nothing to do but best Aerandir in Ýneg again and again. The man will not admit defeat!”

“Much like someone else I know,” Elwing said, then more sincerely: “It is good. Such a trait is precious in these times. Keep him close.”

Eärendil chuckled and took another piece of melon before launching into the full tale, growing increasingly animated as it went on. First he talked about the strange lands they visited along the southern coasts: of deer striped gold and black, and insects as large as his hand, and lagoons bursting with pink birds; of deserts with dunes high as mountains. No, he answered when she managed to slip in a question, nowhere suitable to settle, not yet, but they were close, next time. He was sure.

Then their journey took them further out to sea, and his tale turned to talk of stars and currents and winds that Elwing might have been able to follow if she’d paid any attention to Círdan’s lessons in their youth, but she was more interested, as she had been then, in observing Eärendil’s gestures and the pink glow rising on his cheeks as he spoke of them.

“…Captain Ríaras believes I am ready to captain my own ship,” he said at the end of one breathless sentence, and paused for Elwing’s reaction.

“Oh?” Her voice came out tremulous as the sudden skip of her heart.

“But not now!” he hurried to add. “No, no, nothing about ships until our babies are born, and then not for some time yet.” He set aside the tray of food, which Elwing had finished picking over, and stretched himself out in the narrow space on the bed beside her, tucking his feet beneath the blankets and tangling his legs with hers. “But never mind, we can talk of that later.”

Elwing swallowed around the tightness in her throat. It should not have been a surprise, but she realised she had been indulging the hope that their children might anchor his restless soul. The sea was ever in his thoughts, and after his father had followed its call West, it had taken hold of him more fiercely than ever. The voyage of Alphroval, one of the few Falathrin ships to ply the open ocean, had been for him but a step towards a greater ambition.

Once, he had dared whisper that ambition: that he might reach the Blessed Realm and plead with the Belain for forgiveness and aid. It was bold, brazen even, to entertain such a thought. To Elwing, it was no different than wishing for death. She had awoken screaming the night he shared it with her, shivering, her vision blurry with the memory of soaring through bitter cold darkness.

She reached between them and threaded her fingers with his. “Yes, later.”

They held each other’s eyes, close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin, and he leaned in closer still to touch his nose to her cheek. Her lips parted, inviting him to claim them, but he hovered a moment longer, fingertips trailing down her spine, pulling her closer and fitting his hips around her belly so she could feel the evidence of his want for her.

“I love you,” he whispered, grazing her lips with his.

The light, teasing touch sent a gale of pleasure whipping through her, flushing out all trace of doubt and fear, and she tightened her arms around his shoulders, arcing her hips, shuffling to fit the firmness of his arousal between her thighs. They were both already panting, grinding hips, hands racing over clothing to expose more skin. Eärendil explored the new shape of her, and everywhere he moved she chased contact with his body, straining for friction.

Her chest bared, her sensitive and swelling breasts pushed up against him and she gasped, forced to pause at the dizzying rush of desire that unfurled inside her.

“It’s so much,” she said.

Eärendil chuckled, pulling back and clasping her hands in both of his. “Slower?” he asked.

“No, no,” she said, “I need you.” And indeed, her pulse seemed to throb through her entire body, but especially in the aching mound between her thighs. Her lust took command of her actions, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, pushing down. “Now.”

Through hooded lids, she caught him grinning up at her as he slid his palm over her, rubbing and pulsing through her braies.

“Ah! Aah!” Elwing cried. “I’m going to—!” Already she was shuddering towards completion — but just as the surge of her release reached a peak, he removed his hand, tugging her braies down to her ankles. She kicked them off, narrowly missing Eärendil in the process.

“Careful!” he laughed.

He pulled up her knees and supported her trembling legs with his hands on her ankles. His head ducked down, nothing but his mussed-up golden curls visible above the curve of her belly. Elwing’s eyes squeezed shut, she clutched at the sheets, mouthing curses. He had her still teetering maddeningly on the brink of climax.

One cheek scraped along her inner thigh, gentle as sand dragged from underfoot by the retreating surf. Eärendil reached up with one hand, feathering the lower curve of her breast with his thumb, and in the same moment fitting his lips over and around her. The pressure of his sucking stole her breath, and she could not keep from rutting against his mouth. He squeezed her breast and thrust his tongue inside her. A spike of pleasure pushed a cry from her lungs, loud enough she was sure it carried through the open window to the street below, but she could not care. She cried again, and again, as he withdrew his tongue, fluttering, then plunged into her once more. One hand continued to tease her breast while the other forced its way beneath her to grip the yielding flesh of her ass. He held her hips firmly against him as he carried her up, up to an impossible height of pleasure, suspending her there in weightless flight above the earth.

Her fall, when it finally came, was gentle, easy, like sliding into a pool of still water. Entirely sated in spirit and body, she sank into the bed and drifted back to sleep in his enveloping embrace.

#silmsmutweek #earendil #elwing #earendil x elwing #starwing #my fic

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ewa-jednak-chce-spac · 10 months

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#star wars #gingerpilot #tolkien #earendil x elwing #tumblr games #the one true ultimate shipping tournament #armitage hux #poe dameron #earendil #elwing

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yourlocalnetizen · 5 months

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Earendil: I would sacrifice myself to save everyone

Elwing: I would sacrifice anyone to save you

#otp #earendil #elwing #earendil x elwing #elwing x earendil #the silmarillion

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glorf1ndel · 27 days

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Pick a ship and a song! 🛳️ 🎵

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velvet4510 · 2 months

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Tell me WHY your choice is the best in notes!!

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meadowlarkx · 10 months

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Elwing/Eärendil and 41? 🥺

41. ...because the world is saved

The prayer was granted—he had felt the currents of the world assembled and heard them answer yes. Yes, yes, yes: it beat in him. He had been relieved, as though a great burden had fallen from his shoulders, and then he had felt barely anything at all. His feet carried him from diamond street to pearl-strewn shore, still expecting the land beneath to move like a ship’s deck, in waves. Where was Elwing?

Here was another city. If Tirion had called up childhood memories of Gondolin, the shining mirror of a ghost, here was the distant, grander echo of Sirion and home. It was in the adornment of the arches that reminded of Círdan and in the piers with their forest of gleaming masts. The proud curve of the bay was an embrace, until he remembered that it reminded him of nothing: Sirion was no more.

Many voices rose ahead of his steps. These Elves had not gone to the festivities in Valimar: they were immersed in talking, gathered in a lantern-lit square near the water and seated casually clustered about one slight figure.

Her dark hair stood out among them, but he would have known her anywhere. Their eyes met and she was again before him, studying him with steely eyes. Her hands alighted on his hands gently, but firmly. He interlaced their fingers without thinking of it. A moment ago, he had drifted across the littoral, a houseless shade. Now he was solid, and suffused with the news to bursting. He kissed her and tasted salt; his own tears spilling over and down his cheek.

“Yes,” he said. “They said yes.”

Elwing laughed and gripped his hands harder.

“They said yes?”

Leaning up she kissed him.

“Then the world is saved!” She laughed again. She was crying too, a piscine glistening upon her brown face in the silver lantern-light. He released her hands and drew his arms around her. “You have done what your grandfather and all Círdan’s craft could not.”

“We have,” he said.

What a dream it was: here they stood in a dream land, the land of song and stories. They had nothing: they had accomplished everything. Somewhere away through the impossibly high stone arch across the mouth of this harbor, gleaming with mother-of-pearl, were the darkened eastern shores of Middle-earth, and a much smaller arch in a kindred style that jutted out perilously above the Sea.

“I hate them,” Elwing said suddenly. “Is it wrong, that I hate them?”

“No,” Eärendil said, and squeezed her tightly. “I hate them too for not acting earlier. But it is done now. It will be better now. It must be.”

#HI....#elwing #earendil #Eärendil #silmarillion fic #birdstar #hm is that the ship name?#elwing x earendil #silmarillion #my fic #kiss meme #thank u for giving me a reason to try to write these two!#swanmaids #'them' here being the valar - realizing belatedly is not so clear

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elanorar · 8 months

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Rings of Power concept art of Earendil the Mariner with Elwing the White and Numenor

cr: @jgauthier_art

#earendil #the rings of power #elwing #rings of power #concept art #tolkien #silmarillion #elwing x earendil

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imakemywings · 2 years

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Let us taunt old care with a merry air / And sing in the face of ill

Fandom: Tolkien

Pairing: Earendil/Elwing

AN: De-anon from the kink meme for Earendil and Elwing’s developing relationship. Title is from the poem “In Summer" by Paul Laurence Dunbar.

AO3 | Pillowfort | SWG

__________________________________________________________

In the fall, Elwing is five, and she builds sandcastles in front of a strange ocean with a boy from a city she never saw, that doesn’t exist any longer, which makes them two of a kind. He grows the same way she does, in odd fits and starts, with no one sure where their milestones are supposed to be, or what their futures will look like. They skip through the wet sand and in the daylight forget the memories of burning trees and clashing blades and running, running, running in the joy of warm sunlight on their cheeks and cups of hot cider pressed into their hands by the adults. If his parents hover slightly, she doesn’t notice, any more than she notices the fretful, haunted eyes always watching her.

In the winter, Elwing is fourteen, and she understands what she has lost. The howl of the inconsolable waves on the shore echoes the raging in her breast for everything that has been stolen from her; the memory of her brothers haunts the corners of her vision and she introduces herself as Dioriel. Eärendil does not begrudge her her wrath or her grief and sits beside her while she trembles as a storm-tossed sail, while she demands answers of ghosts and apparitions who cannot speak. The Silmaril is in a box in her room and there is bitter pleasure in opening it up to stare at the jewel that cost her family everything, and to know the monsters who did this to her will never have it. Eärendil asks her what she remembers of Doriath, and the resentment is so heavy on her tongue she can barely speak when she replies: Nothing.

In the spring, Elwing is twenty-six, and she is tired of being angry. She takes long walks on the beach with Eärendil and his parents, and she does not begrudge him their company. Idril Celebrindal presses egg tarts into her hands and Tuor Ulmondil regales her with stories of his journey to Gondolin, and when Eärendil lays his head on her shoulder, she puts her arm around him and asks him what he remembers about Gondolin. Eärendil tells her of the splendid fountains, and of his grandfather Turgon, who would lift him up on his balcony to let him see the entirety of the city spread out at his feet, and of the sweet mountain air. While he speaks, she feels his joy, and not her own loss, and that is how she knows she loves him.

In the summer, Elwing is thirty, and Eärendil wears a hair clasp emblazoned with the symbol of her house, and she can feel the stirring of life below her ribs. The Silmaril is heavy around her neck, but it shines like a star when it catches the light, and in the mornings when Eärendil is home, he gathers her thick dark hair away from her neck to clasp it on for her. Sometimes when he is away, she sleeps with it on, as if feeling the weight of it against her breast somehow keeps him close. They sit on the edge of the pier in front of a peach sky and discuss what they shall call the baby, and Elwing threatens to push Eärendil into the water when he suggests the name of his father’s favorite goat (who now lives in their own yard). The glorious radiance of the time they have together so outshines the pain of their separation that Elwing forgets what it feels like to say goodbye once Eärendil has come back to port.

In the summer, Elwing is thirty, and she no longer thinks about “going home,” because she has created a new home for herself, and in this, she hopes the phantoms of her past will finally find peace.

#elwing #earendil #earendil x elwing #the silmarillion #tolkien tag #fanfiction #tolkien fanfiction #rocky writes #the silmarillion kink meme #case and point about g-rated requests on the kink meme #starwing

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