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mur4sak1 · 26 days

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How would elves behave during an argument?

A/N: Remember that English is not my first language so I hope I wrote in the best way <3

Characters: Rog, Galdor, Glorfindel, Maedhros, Legolas (bonus)

Rog: guys, this elf would be really scary. Contrary to what you might think, he would lose his temper very easily; he works all day in the darkness of the forges and when he leaves he just wants to have a good rest, so further stress from an argument would drive him out of his mind. He's the typical person who screams without thinking twice and says things he doesn't mean in anger. His way would destroy you every time, making you burst into tears from how bad he made you feel... but as soon as he saw a small tear running down your face he fell silent, forgetting everything that was happening; Was it him who made you like this? He was making the only person who loved him and who had always supported him in his darkest moments cry. He would stay still for some time, with a thousand thoughts in his head when a louder sob from you would bring him back to reality. He would apologize to you but he would do it without meeting your gaze, he is suffering too much for what he did and he wouldn't have the courage to see your destroyed expression. But you knew that he loves you more than anything after all. With difficulty you would get up and hug him as tight as possible, telling him that everything was fine, that you knew he didn't think those things and that you loved him... You couldn't see his face, but a tear fell from his eyes.

Galdor: NOW LET'S ALL GIVE A HUG TO THIS WONDERFUL ELF TOGETHER. He would always try to find a solution peacefully, without discussions and the need to argue, but if this happens you should not fear anything from him. He would NEVER scream, he would NEVER raise his voice, he would NEVER say anything mean to you just to hurt you or win the argument. I mean, it would be fantastic. Maybe due to particular circumstances you would have become so upset that you felt angry against the elf, but in any case he would have spoken to you in a calm and reasonable tone, making you understand that you didn't need to react that way. If the pain brought you to tears, he would hug you and console you like a defenseless child, helping you and trying to get you to vent so that he could fully understand what was troubling you so as to avoid misunderstandings. Galdor would have been able to understand and love you more than anyone else, always.

Glorfindel: It was rare to argue with the blond elf, but sometimes it happened and the situation became quite lively. Glorfindel always tried to keep his problems to himself and not involve others because he was convinced that difficult moments should only be faced with those you love. Furthermore, he certainly wanted to avoid all that useless gossip that many elves had on any topic that might attract their curiosity. Although his character was often extroverted and playful even in the saddest situations for this reason, when he argued with you it wasn't uncommon to hear shouts and snorts coming from your rooms. They would not be screams that expressed malice, but screams that asked to be listened to; it was natural for him to raise his voice when he wasn't listened to and in that way he expressed all his frustration and the pain that the discussion with you was bringing him. He always acted for your good and feeling attacked made him suffer, he wondered what he was doing wrong, what more did you want from him. But the intense mix of emotions inside him prevented him from acting rationally, forgetting how to express them and focusing only on everything you said. After a long time arguing like this you would have reached the point of being exhausted and progressively raising your voice would have left you breathless. You would stop to breathe for a fraction of seconds, with the certainty that everything would soon start again. But after rubbing your eyes, you looked at your elf's face and saw in him all the pain that he was trying to say to you through his tone of voice; his fists were clodes, his head was bowed, his forehead shiny with sweat and a few blond hairs stuck to it. In an instant you understood everything... You breathed a heavy sigh and quickly approached him to hug him, starting to beg him to forgive you and sobbing heavily between one apology and another... Caught off guard, after a few seconds he relaxed his arms and reciprocated the hug. Finally he let himself go to his feelings; he rested his head on your head and the wet of sweat combined with the wetness of a few tears. So he was able to express everything he felt and only at that point would you be able to clarify and return to being happy and in love as always "I just want to always be perfect for you".

Maedhros: I'm sure fights with the red-head would be very peaceful. Having grown up in a large family and in the role of an older brother, he had developed a lot of patience thanks to which he could easily handle any type of conflict with you. Contrary to what many might think, after Angbad Mae would not have vented the pain on you with shouts and insults, but quite the opposite. After the terrible torture he suffered, the only thing he wanted was to feel accepted and in you he found his salvation; in all the darkest moments where his mind couldn't differentiate reality from dreams you were there by his side to help him, without ever making him feel wrong and making him understand how strong he was to have overcome such a trauma. For this reason, he would feel like a terrible elf during arguments. He only wanted to offer you the support that you represented to him every day but instead he felt more like a burden to you. This would make him cry a lot, but in silence and alone, because he feared that with every little clash you would abandon him. He just needed time, time to understand that you would never, ever abandon him; you always told him that you loved him more than anyone else and that he needed your support to be able to return to the sweet, confident elf he once was, and you would do anything to help him. Needless to say, every time the arguments were resolved without even face them... there was too much love that bound your hearts to ruin it for superficial reasons.

BONUS. Legolas: So, I honestly see Legolas as the kind of elf who would be capable of walking away during an argument. Perhaps due to stress, lack of patience or lack of desire for confrontation, he could stop the conversation, pick up and leave the place where you were. But in reality his behavior would be the solution to the problem. In fact, the much anger that you had accumulated would have faded with distance and the passage of time and would have made both of you understand how much you cared for each other. Solitude would have helped Legolas to think clearly about the problem and find a possible solution to make them both happy. When you met again you would have made peace, both apologizing for your abrupt ways and organizing something to spend the evening together.

#silmarillion #silmarillion headcanon #silmarillion x reader #tolkien #maedhros #maedhros x reader #glorfindel x reader #glorfindel #galdor x reader #galdor #rog #rog x reader #legolas #legolas x reader #lord of the rings #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #lotr x reader

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sesamenom · 5 months

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artblock/family obligations have been hitting hard this week but here's a classic group photo for the Lords of Gondolin!

house of finwe house of thingol

closeups under the cut:

#silm #silmarillion #gondolin #lords of gondolin #(from left to right:#duilin #penlod #tuor #turgon #ecthelion #glorfindel #egalmoth #rog #maeglin #galdor #salgant #next up: and finrod fell before the throne #glorfindel ecthelion duilin and salgant are the younger lords (not counting tuor & maeglin) of the lords #glorfindel is elenwes nephew #so he was an older teen on the helcaraxe (roughly galadriels age)#ecthelion was one of argons friends and duilin was one of aredhels junior Hunt friends #salgant was the younger brother/cousin/something of one of fingons friends #egalmoth and rog are the oldest #rog (the oldest of all the lords) was one of mahtans younger colleagues (born during the later part of the great journey)#egalmoth was one of turgon's tutors/mentors #hes also half sindarin (born on the end of the great journey)#penlod is about turgons age #they met because they were the Tall Kids and promptly became friends #galdor is the only one of the lords who didnt meet turgon in valinor #hes a sinda who helped rog escape from angband and is exactly turgons age

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l7inda · 9 months

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Lords of Gondolin

From top to bottom:

Glorfindel, Turgon, Ecthelion, Galdor, Egalmoth, Tuor (the only mortal), Penlod, Legolas of the House of the Tree (not a lord but I like him), Maeglin, Duilin, Rog, Salgant

#silmarillion #lord of the rings #drawing #gondolin #the fall of gondolin #glorfindel #ecthelion #turgon #egalmoth #tuor #galdor #penlod #maeglin #legolas #duilin #Rog #salgant #procreate #tolkien

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shootingstarsue · 10 months

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#the silmarillion #tolkien #elves #gondolin knights #turgon #tuor #maeglin #salgant #eglamonth #penlod #galdor #glorfindel #ecthelion #rog #my art

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taiariko · 1 year

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a couple years ago I drew the lords of gondolin and never got to finish all of them, but I thought I might share some here!

in order: ecthelion, glorfindel, egalmoth, duilin, galdor, rog, penlod

#silmarillion #ecthelion #glorfindel #egalmoth #duilin #galdor #rog #penlod #gondolin #duilin’s bird background was traced from stock images lmao

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doodle-pops · 1 month

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Dating Galdor Would Include...

𑁍 First of all, I don’t think or believe that there will ever be a problem in dating this soft elf. He’s not a people pleaser, but he does his best to put you first and ensure that all your needs and wants are met.

𑁍 He adores it when you show interest in his work which leads to him grabbing you by the hand and leading you to his garden to show you all about his plants and flowers, giving you a private tour.

𑁍 One of the best parts about dating Galdor is that you receive lots of plants he spent years nurturing before gifting them to you. You will be taught all the best ways to care for agriculture and learn how to make the best teas. If you wish to become a healer, you’re also in the right place.

𑁍 He is an excellent cook, so do expect to receive hand-cooked meals for your lunch and dinner dates, even for breakfast. There are times he’d invite you over to cook with him, it’s okay if you don’t know how to cook, he’d teach you with a kind smile on his face, patiently.

𑁍 All your walks are done in the gardens as well as picnics. He has probably built a stream/pool in his private gardens so that you two can go for an impromptu dip when the day is hot.

𑁍 He enjoys taking you to balls so he can dance with you the entire night. He won’t even let anyone else have a chance to dance with you—it’s not done out of jealousy—it’s just that he loves the feeling he gets when he’s holding you in his arms.

𑁍 He isn’t strict on rules and society like a few other people, so he’s willing to be silly and wild with you without worrying about what others will say. In his thoughts “If it makes you happy, it makes him happy”.

𑁍 He’s a funny elf, not on the same level as Glorfindel or Egalmoth, but he’s ever funny. He loves to make you laugh when the moment calls for it, he does behave when it’s serious events and the moment doesn’t call for it though.

𑁍 Cuddling is a must for him, he enjoys it more than you’ll even believe. Because he isn’t that energetic, it’s easy to catch him anytime for a cuddling session. He’s always down for being wrapped up in your arms. Most of the time, 9 out of 10, he has fallen asleep to you petting his hair.

𑁍 His kisses are to die for because you had never pinned him as the type to be passionate about them. At first, he’ll cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing them gently before one hand snakes downwards to snake around your waist and the other cups your nape. Gingerly he’ll tilt your head upwards and tease you with the brush of his lips against yours before swooping in for a breathtaking kiss. I mean it. He will take your breath away.

𑁍 Not someone overly stylish but does ensure that he is well dressed, he loves it when you braid his hair for him or sometimes pick out his attire. He doesn’t complain if the braids are mismatched or uneven, it’s the thoughts that count, and he’ll proudly wear them to court meetings. If anyone mentions them, he’d just look at them questioningly and carry about his day.

𑁍 That was perhaps the first time anyone had ever seen him displeased in a long time and for you, he’s very protective of you. He doesn’t appreciate when people bad-mouth you either to your face or behind, he doesn’t tolerate it.

𑁍 He does go about dealing with the situation calmly, too calmly, which is what scares people. He just wants to love and protect and keep you safe at all times and cherish you.

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#galdor #galdor imagine #galdor headcanon #galdor x reader #galdor of the tree #house of the tree #lords of gondolin #gondolin #ondolinde #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion headcanons #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanon #x reader fluff #x reader insert #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

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warrioreowynofrohan · 10 months

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Doing Silmarillion Daily has made me notice more about the Edain, and wow, some of the lesser-noticed characters had incredibly hard lives once you put the pieces together.

Take Galdor and Hareth, the father and mother of Húrin and Huor. They get married in Brethil (Hareth’s home), in a big double wedding (Galdor’s older sister and Hareth’s older brother also marry each other), at an incredibly young age - they’re nineteen and sixteen respectively, though they don’t have kids until they’re in their twenties. Hareth has to move to Hithlum, away from all of her family, while she’s still a teenager. When her kids are still fairly young, she has to send them off to Brethil to be fostered by their uncle according to Haladin custom, so she’s separated from her kids as well as parents and other relatives.

Then, while the boys are in Brethil, the Battle of Sudden Flame happens. The times of relative safety are over. Galdor’s father and his younger brother are both killed. Only a couple years later, they learn that their sons (teenagers, 16 and 13) fought in a battle against orcs and are missing, presumed dead.

A year later their sons return under mysterious circumstances and will say nothing about where they’ve been.

And only three years after that, Galdor is killed in defence of Eithel Sirion, the same place his father and brother died defending, and his son Húrin - only 21 years old - leads the counterattack.

Hareth has now lost her husband, father-in-law, brother-in-law, and spent a year thinking her kids were dead or worse, in addition to having been separated from all the rest of her family since her mid-teens - and her son, barely out of his teens, is now fighting in the same war that took everyone else from her and is called the head of the House of Hador.

And then, nine years later when she’s 51 years old, her father Halmir dies in Brethil, and a year after that comes the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and the occupation of Hithlum, and one of her sons is missing-presumed-dead for the second time in her life and her other son is dead. And after that all the tragedies of Húrin’s family.

Just…ouch that is a lot!

#tolkien #the silmarillion #silmarillion daily #edain #hareth #galdor #húrin #huor

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elfinfen · 6 months

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Galdor 🌹🌹🌹

#commission #tolkien #silmarillion #noldor #elves #elf #gondolin #galdor #and his roses

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lovefairymina · 1 month

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Me- (comes home from work in a slump, eyes distant and not saying much during dinner) Galdor, my research project isn’t going the way I’d hoped. I have to change the design last minute and I’m stressed about it. Also, my right shoulder and side of my neck are killing me… (rests my head in his lap) Sorry, love, I know you had a long day too. But I could use some healing right about now.

Quietly, he slipped out under you and guided you to lie on your stomach. With a quick motion of his skilled fingers, he undid your heavy garments, leaving you in your underwear. In no time, his therapeutic fingers were massaging themselves into your shoulders and upper back while you were fast asleep.

#♡{sweet.hugs} ~ {galdor}#galdor #galdor imagine #galdor x y/n #galdor x you #house of the trees #galdor of the trees #lords of gondolin #silm imagines #middle earth imagine

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windrelyn · 1 month

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Hellooooo! I just wanted to let you know how obsessed I am with your Galdor content and all your Turgon & Galdor content. Your art made me high-key ship them and write a 70k word fic about post Gondolin Galdor.

Thank you so much!! I'm very happy you like my Turgon & Galdor content. It's good to hear that my arts and my headcanons inspired someone <3

(Sorry for the late reply. You made me miss Galdor and Turgon, and I want to draw something for you)

#tolkien #turgon #galdor #gondolin #silmarillion #fan art #silm art #elves #the fall of gondolin #tfog #fanart #middle earth #my art #gondolindrim #my asks

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naarisz · 1 year

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Six...well, EightFanarts is done! Thx for the requests. :)

Manwë, Eönwë, Irmo, Thranduil, Galdor (Tolkien's Legendarium), Kasumi Goto (Mass Effect), Kreia (Knights of the Old Rebulic), Ashley Williams (Mass Effect)

Separate character pics under the cut!

It was a pleasure to draw these characters! :)

/* I'm not so sure about Manwë's and Thranduil's design, maybe I'll change it in the future. But what I'm sure about is that I really like Irmo's. (Sheeps are associated with sleep... shepherd of dreams, lol.) */

#silmarillion #the hobbit #mass effect #knights of the old republic #manwë #manwe sulimo #eönwë #eonwe #irmo #irmo lorien #thranduil #galdor #kasumi goto #kreia #ashley williams #sixfanarts

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curiouselleth · 25 days

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Veil of Starlight (ao3)

Chapter 1; Beginnings

Nightingales had always been a part of their heritage. Their great-grandmother created them after all.

It had been so bitterly cold, they all should’ve migrated south months ago. But they were there, and they guided them out of the cold, chilling them to their bones down south where the sun still shone strong, and melted the frost on their clothes and dark hair. But not their hearts.

Everyone they knew was gone. Slain in the halls their father had brought life back to. Dead in the snow. Their mother slain trying to find their little sister and get them out. Friends all gone. Their father slain before his throne as he tried to defend his home and people. They didn’t know what happened to their little sister, but she likely lay in the halls or snow like all the others.

Everyone was gone and their home was gone and they were gone to the south away, away away away and they wanted to leave it behind.

The nightingales stayed with them for a time. Teaching them where to find food in this new place. Showing them a small cave to shelter in. But it was still hungry, still cold. They clutched each other every night, small bodies shivering. They didn’t know how many cold nights they spent in that cave before some avari found them. But by then they were thin, wild and fey. One of the avari still bears the scars from their teeth, from these strange little children. Not wholly elf, nor man, nor maiar. An unheard of ancestry, only a few of a kind. But the avari did not know, barely whispers of their grandmother Luthien and her victory against the enemy had reached that part of the world.

But nonetheless, the green elves took in these wild fey children whose moods stirred the wind to fury and whose laughter brought flowers into bloom in the dead of winter. In their small village in the trees they grew, faster than the eldar, even faster than the edain. So strange, it was. Such a light burned within them, and only ever increased as they grew.

In those years, time moved faster around them, and somehow, they had nearly reached full stature and maturity and had learned nearly all they could from the green elves. The only thing they had not learned was to control their strange powers. And how to fit in.

So the twins left.

They packed, said goodbyes, and moved on.

Journeying in Ossiriand, avoiding any and all other elves and edain. They had a lot of excuses for avoiding others. They didn’t want to be dragged back into the violence in the north. Didn’t want a crown or responsibilities to be forced upon them. Didn’t want to remember.

It was so subconscious at first, they didn’t even realize. But they had slowly woven enchantment over themselves, over each other to hide who they were. To hide the features they shared with Luthien. To hide the edain features. The otherworldliness in their eyes that they inherited from Melian. The proud bearing that called Beren and Thingol to mind. To make others see what they wanted to see, or expected when others looked upon them.

They would always come back to the forest of Taur-im-Duinath. To a little shared talan perhaps a days travel from the avari village where they grew up. Or at least a day's travel across the ground. Closer to a few hours when the twins raced through the branches in leaves with the skill of elves many millennia old. Not long after, as they seemingly could never have quiet for long; a young Noldorin woman arrived.

Tired and beaten, drifting on a distributary from the Gates Sirion on a half sinking raft. The younger twin found her and pulled her from the river, and brought her to the twin’s small talan.

She had woken up screaming that night. The twins understood.

As the week passed, the peace of the forest brought her comfort. She wasn’t ready to speak of what happened yet. The twins understood this too, more than they could put into words.

From this understanding something wholly new began to grow between her and Elurin. When she was despairing, he made her laugh. And she balanced his overly carefree, inattentive personality with maturity… and an unforgiving streak of sarcasm and knowledge of pranks.

Eventually, she told them a little. How she had lived in the hidden city Gondolin. That it was attacked and destroyed, and she escaped. Drifted downriver because it would be faster than running. And how she had overheard some of the men attacking her city saying how they couldn’t let any of the people of Gondolin escape to the Havens of Sirion like the Doriath survivors had.

The twins froze and paled at this last statement. They excused themselves, and the moment they were out of her sight they fled into the branches, and they ran and ran and ran and ran and ran until they reached a large clearing and ran out of branches to leap through.

They returned the next morning, salt streaks down their cheeks and staining their clothes.

“Elured, you don’t have to do this, not alone!”

He reaches out and rubs Elurin’s shoulders, “yes, I do. I’m older, and you have Gwingloth here.”

Elurin blushes and tries to interrupt, but Elured continues “oh you know you cannot lie to me brother. I have seen how you two look at each other when you think I don’t see, the love, how you practically melt in her gaze. We all have been through so much. You two deserve happiness, with each other, if that is what you two wish for. Stay with her, I will go to the Havens, even Balar if I must. I will learn what has become of the last of our people. I will be like the wind, in and out and returning to you with the winter rains. At the latest in the spring. I will find our people.”

Elurin blinks away tears, “I shall hold you to that. And if you return a day after spring ends you shall never hear the end of it,” he pauses, “take one of the swords. We are safe here, you will need one more than us.”

“Are you certain? I can take one of the avari swords or bows instead…”

“No, take one.” Elurin turns and kneels down, pulls out a dagger and pries up one of the floorboards. He sets it aside and stares at the cavity for a moment, before pulling out the silver twin swords. “They are the last of our heritage and family that we have, take it with you and remember me. I knew ever since the avari found them, they were not destined to stay together forever. Just hide the inscriptions…” he runs his fingers over the cirth runes; For my beloved great-grandchildren, may you wield these swords in a better world than the one you were born into. And the maker's mark, a tall thin “T” with a small crown above it.

Elured slowly takes one, and he too runs his fingers along the runes. But as he does, they shimmer, and fade away, making the sword appear blank and uninscribed. “I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.” He looks up to Elurin and smiles mischievously, “and perhaps by the time I return you can tell me about the proposal.”

“Huh? Whatever are you talking abou- NO Elured, it is far too early, no, and in case your ears were clogged the first time, no no no you daft creature!”

“Who is a daft creature?” A female voice icily asks from behind him.

“Oh just my foolish broth-” his voice explodes into an undignified shriek as Elured grabs him from behind and starts mercilessly tickling him.

“Do not worry Gwin, I shall only be gone for a few months at most, just to see if any survived Doriath, and I shall leave as soon as I teach this child a lesson!” he laughs and continues poking and tickling Elurin.

“You know I do not like it when you call me that, ‘red” she laughs.

“Fair point, I shall endeavor to use your full name when I return, so long as you do not call me that.”

“Gwin! Rescue me please!” Elurin begs between laughs.

“Ah you are the more foolish brother, not Elured. Did you not hear my wish not to be called such? Alas, I am afraid I must leave you to this torture unless you apologize!”

Elurin was laughing too hard to even try.

Before dawn, they saw Elured off. He wasn’t bringing any bags, just whatever could fit on his belt and in his pockets without impeding his movement. He didn’t want to be weighed down by too much.

“There and right back, brother. Please, find out if any of our people survived but come home.”

“I will, I promise I will return to this very spot.” He pulls Elurin into an embrace and whispers “I promise.” Eventually they pull apart. “Gwingloth, make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble, just the right amount!”

“Of course.”

Elurin lightly pushes Elured toward the edge of the talan, “Go! For the sooner you leave the sooner you’ll be back! May the sun shine on your path, and may the nightingales help you find it!”

“Farewell!” Elured calls as he leaps into the branches and quickly disappears before the coming dawn.

Sirion was flooded, and raging like he had never seen. The ford was washed away. Swimming across would likely be a death sentence. Elured thinks about the map he and Elurin made last summer. If this ford was washed away, they all likely were. So there were only two options; trying to find a path through the mouths of Sirion would be the most direct, but likely a fool’s errand. Sailing obviously was not an option, he had sailed rivers on the small craft the avari made but the ocean was too risky. Which left the North. He could pass over the Gates of Sirion to the North, and hope that the Nargod wasn’t affected by the same weather that flooded Sirion. It would be a much longer journey, but the least difficult.

He tucked a stray braid behind his ear, then sighed, irritated, as the wind immediately tossed it back out of place.

“Well, I suppose there’s no good thinking on an empty stomach.” He mumbled.

A few handfuls of berries and a bit of bread later, he sighed, this time content.

Gwingloth would likely scold me for such a meal he thought as he looked out over the river over his perch in a lone tree. Even at its narrowest it was still a massive river, and in some places leagues wide. There would be no crossing, of that he was now sure of. North would be the only option.

He resolved to set out in the morning, laid down on one of the larger branches of the tree, and fell into dreams with Elurin.

“How fares your journey, brother?”

“Sirion has swelled with floods, there is no crossing. I travel North at dawn, to pass over the Gates of Sirion,” he replied.

He could feel Elurin’s concern twist around him restlessly, “are you sure? That is a long way, you do not have to do this, not alone. If you stay there for a few days perhaps I can catch up and we can go together?”

“I can do it. Please, stay in the forest with Gwingloth. She is not fully recovered no matter how much she may deny it, and you have more skill in healing than myself or any of the avari. She needs you. And I’m your older brother, I can do this.” He wanted to, had to. Had to see if their sister lived yet.

“Just because you are mere minutes older, does not mean you have to bear this alone,” Elurin’s concern remained, but was now vibrantly colored by love as his fëa swirled around.

“I know, brother, I know. I just feel as though… this is something I have to do, I am fated for. I do not know what awaits me at the Havens, but something does, and I have to find it.”

“That may be,” Elurin deflated a little, “but after you find it, come back. You promised.” Elurin’s fëa gently brushes him, and fades back into the waking world, out of their small world of dreams.

Elured lingered a little longer yet. They had never been so far apart, and he feared that if they were much farther they would not be able to walk in their dreams and visions together. To be disconnected from each other in such a way, Elured feared that he would become lost as a boat tossed in a raging storm.

But slowly the sun began to peer over the blue mountains, and it was time. He drifted back to waking.

He ran with the wind in his hair and the sun on his face, his feet quickly and silently impacting the grass as he raced northward - he had been traveling for a few days and the Gates of Sirion were in sight.

He could see where the river gushed forth from the twisting caves under the hill, and traced over the hills above with his eyes. He wanted to cross over as close as possible, the river being flooded had already brought him many leagues in the wrong direction. As the hours passed the hills grew larger, then slowly, slowly smaller as he turned back south.

Eventually he grew near the forest of Nan-tathren, and just in time as his food began to run low. He hated foraging in the hills. Not nearly enough berries for his taste.

Something was wrong. He had frozen before the thought fully reached his mind. There were people in the forest. He slowly resumed approaching the forest, using every trick he knew to stay silent. It was harder to remain unseen in the grass. He had to get into the trees.

He moved barely breathing, tense as a bowstring, he slipped under the trees. He was back in his element, whoever was here would never see him, he thought as he leapt into the branches. Perhaps he could figure out who was here… to better avoid them , he rationalized. After all, he needed to forage and could find areas they had not been in if he knew their numbers.

He flew through the branches, much faster than he had traveled across the ground, though leaping down here and there to gather berries, roots, and a particularly good bunch of mushrooms.

But once more he slowed, the trees whispering growing louder. He was getting close to them. They were getting close. Perhaps a half dozen of them, a hunting party perhaps… or a band of warriors and scouts. He sunk further into the shadows of the tree and listened as voices approached.

He grew more tense as he recognized their accent. Faint as it was, it was the very same that Gwinloth had. Noldor. He loosened his sword in its sheath, fearful that they were the same who destroyed his home. Who killed his family. Who left him and his brother to die.

He remained still as they got closer and closer. As he listened, it seemed like more of a hunting party. Likely tracking game.

He resolved to wait until they passed. They obviously had little experience in the forest. Either they had not been here long, or there weren’t many where they were from. Either way, they were not native here, and spoke of building up stores for the remainder of their journey South.

South. It rang through his head, to the Havens of Sirion. They are likely refugees from Gondolin then. He briefly smiled, Gwinloth will be overjoyed to hear some of her people survived.

He continued waiting for them to pass, they nearly were agonizingly slow as they discussed what kind of game the prints seemed to belong to, or how many, and seemingly to him at least, could not tell a rabbit track from a deer. Eventually, what Elurin would call his “older brother exasperation” kicked in, and he slowly moved from the tree and onto the game trail behind them.

“About a fifth of a league further down the path, there is a small herb of deer. A little farther and you will likely find some rabbits if you are capable of being quiet. And for Orome’s sake be careful! There are two fauns in the herd of deer who are not ready to leave their mothers.”

The hunters spun around, drawing their bows, and he remained just long enough to smirk, but before they could even blink, he had disappeared into the trees again.

His mirth at this little trick stirred a wind in the trees as he raced away, further South. He had enough food, it was time to continue to the Havens.

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