I know I whine a lot about not having a consistent artstyle but the thing is, I do
It looks something like this:
but when you apply this to something as dramatic as the silmarillion this happens:
I still don't know what to think about this
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Let’s talk about Elrond and Elros and their choices
That’s an interesting topic. We know why their parents choose the way they did, but the same doesn’t apply to their sons. I have my theories but I’m also interested in what you think.
We know nothing about the relationship Elrond and Elros shared. It is as possible that they couldn’t stand each other as well as sharing a very close bond. Personally I think the later was the case (mainly because I like all the fluff). We also only know that Maglor cherished them and that his feelings were kinda reciprocated (”and he cherished them, and love grew after between them” as it’s stated in the Silmarillion).
So for a long while it occured strange to me, that Elros willingly choose to be separated from his twin for ever, but now I think he actually made the wiser choice. Also the one that foreshadowed the Doom of Númenor. What ultimatley caused the Akallabêth was the greed of the Númenóreans who longed for an immortal live they couldn’t get.
My headcanon is this: Elrond never thought long about it and made his choice kinda immediately after he got told by Eonwe about it. “We actually can choose? Nice! I wanna be an Elf! My dads are Noldor, I was raised Noldo, despite my Sindarin an mortal herritage. Why should I choose a different fate?”
Elros thought longer about it. While his brother’s arguments also sounded reasonable he also saw a different aspect in it. He saw what the Oath could do, how an immortal life can turn into a curse. To suffer your losses and regrets for all eternity. How it can eat away everything that makes you you. He didn’t want that. He wanted to enjoy what he had but also that one day it may end. Death makes life all the more wonderfull and precious. That’s the whole point about Eru’s Gift of Mortality. Elros understood this.
Of course it was hard for Elrond. Of course he griefed terribly for the loss of his brother. But in the end he also understood, although he still stands for his choice.
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hi!! i really love your art, it’s incredible!! if you’d want to doodle a happy Maglor that would be so awesome but of course you don’t have to!! and i hope you’re having a lovely day, too!!
Of course I’ll draw a happy lad!!!! 😊😊
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Warming up again!
Part two of this! Ancient Egypt and necromancy, etc........
When the corpse sat up and turned to face him, Maglor got a distinctive chill down his spine, and the notion that this might be a bad idea briefly flickered in his head before eagerness pushed through the fear and settled him down again.
He cleared his throat, but still his voice trembled. “Nelyo?”
Dead eyes swiveled in their hollow sockets and looked at him.
The Man had not yet begun to rot properly. He had not, after all, been dead long- four or five days, if Maglor was remembering properly- and he was mostly intact. Brown skin lacking any warmth, lips dull and bloodless, the eyes just days from putrefaction. The blood trail from the hole Maglor had put in the back of his neck had turned a nauseous, rusty brown against the beige tunic.
Despite the fact that the Man was dead, someone was looking out from his eyes. They were more silver than Maglor remembered them being in life, flashing in the lamplight, and they seemed to lock onto him with ease, begin to drill a hole right through to his thoughts. Prying. Knowing. Gleeful.
“Nelyo?” he whispered again, wishing now the eyes would look away. “Is that you?”
The corpse rattled- a sound of dry leather hitting bone. It was trying to breathe.
The jaw creaked open and a beetle came crawling out. A voice like the wind through brittle reeds.
“Who in the name of the gods is Nelyo?”
Maglor’s stomach dropped and decided to twist itself into a bow, to make sure he never did anything as stupid as conjure spirits ever again. He swallowed through the sensation and spoke again, struggling to keep his voice calm.
“Maitimo. Is everything working? Are your ears okay?”
“Yes.” The corpse braced its palms on the edge of the coffin and tried to push to its feet. It took a few tries- stiff muscles, unfamiliar body, fresh from being a endearing spirit... Lots of factors to make moving difficult. “Are yours alright? Because I asked you a question and I haven’t heard anything back.”
As the creature finally rose on creaking legs to tower over Maglor, he realized there had been a horrible mistake.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped weakly, “but I’m looking for my brother, Nelyafinwë. He was supposed to... Well, see, no other spirits are supposed to be able to come through. There must have been some kind of... mix-up.”
“Oh,” said the corpse in is horrible, grating voice, “Nelyafinwë the Fëanorian? Why were you looking for him among the Houseless?”
“Well, he... I was under the impression he was one of them. The Houseless, I mean. Do you know him?”
“No, not really. Fellow popped over to the Halls as soon as he got the chance, from what I’ve heard.”
A coldness joined the nausea to make Maglor feel even more exceptionally wretched.
“He... He did?”
“Not a lot of Houseless out there,” the corpse went on, examining its own slim fingers. “Hey, this is nice. I’m taller! Great shell you’ve picked out here, friend.”
Maedhros gone. Moved on, just like that? It didn’t seem possible. Not after everything they had been through. Everything they had done.
“Who are you?” he breathed, feeling ill.
Stone, metal, and earth.
He had called to the cold soundness of the ground. Who else could he possibly have conjured?
The corpse straightened, strolled to the riverside on two long, stiff legs, and glanced over into the silver water. The blackened fingers pushed dark hair away from misplaced eyes.
“Rock and stone...” murmured the creature through a rigid jaw. “It’s all gone to ruin, hasn’t it?”
When the gaze finally met his again, Maglor thought he recognized something in it.
“Did Idril survive it?” the corpse breathed. “The fall?”
“No one survived.” Maglor approached it from behind, cautious. “What is your name?”
The reeds creaked when the creature knelt among them to drag a slim hand through its own reflection.
“Maeglin. That’s what I was called.” It looked at Maglor again and he could see Aredhel in its eyes. “Perhaps you can help me claim my inheritance.”
There had been a massive mistake.
Maglor had only wanted to talk to his brother.
And now this.
He pushed a hand through his hair and tried to breathe through the pain.
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V with Makarato?
...yes. I would. I added 12 (lingerie) just because it worked with what my brain was writing today, hope it still works for you!
humiliation/degradation + Makaráto
Maglor wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to rummage through the back of his closet to pull out the gag-gift he had received from Fingon a few years ago for his begetting day, nor what had possessed him to try it on in front of the mirror, stripping off his own clothes and pulling on instead what was clearly supposed to be a a pair of trousers meant to go beneath the robe but which served as nothing really, besides to barely cover his groin and to act as another invisible layer over everything else. Maglor grinned, spinning around in the mirror and admiring every angle of the sheer blue-grey fabric on his body, wondering, wildly, what the tittering society of Tirion would think if one of their princes were to go outside wearing such a thing.
Probably, he reasoned with himself, not very much considering only a week before Celegorm had ended up running through the streets in a lap of the city utterly nude after loosing a bet to Fingon. Most likely, he thought, it would not be such a scandal, not that he would ever be wearing the robes outside or in public ever… right?
Maglor shivered, the night air flowing right through the transparent robes as he tried to hide behind Maedhros, desperately hoping that it was dark enough even with Telperion’s light that his father wouldn’t recognize his face.
“If you didn’t want to wear them, Káno, you should have had something else on when I came upstairs!” Maglor glared at him, rubbing at his bare arms and hissing back,
“Well how was I supposed to know we were leaving right then and that we were the last! Now I have to walk around looking like—“ Maglor froze as a warm hand fell on his shoulder and he spun around, ready entirely to either slap whoever it was across the face for touching him while he was walking around virtually naked or to beg for a set of borrowed clothes. Instead of a stranger, as Maglor had expected, he instead found himself mere inches away from Finrod’s face where his wine-scented breath ghosted across Maglor’s lips.
“You can go ahead, Russo, Findekáno’s waiting for you under the fountain, I think he said something about a secret garden?” Maglor watched his cousin flush, his face half-embarrassed and half-excited as he made his way over to the large silver fountain in the center of the clearing leaving Maglor feeling quite alone and quite naked as Finrod glanced him up and down giving him a small smile, and wrapping a hand around his waist, leading him not away from the party but further into it.
“Please, Findo, can I just borrow a set of clothes for the night? Nelya caught me-- I didn’t have time to change.” Finrod laughed lightly, leaning over and nuzzling his nose against Maglor’s,
“Mmmh, perhaps later, but I know what you like, brat.” Maglor shivered, the night suddenly seeming much colder and his skin much warmer,
“Findo!” He whined, trying to cover at least some part of him, but Finrod laughed, a smile so fond and full of love on his face that Maglor felt sorely tempted to indulge him in whatever games he wished to play,
“Mmmh, my little songbird, my little brat, my little… slut.” Maglor froze, unable to move even one step forwards as a rush of heat filled his skin with Finrod’s words— no, just one word. As much as Maglor loved all the other pet names Finrod had given him, even brat, none of them had affected him as greatly as this latest one.
“Káno? What’s wrong? Too far?” Maglor let out a stuttering breath and whispered,
“Wh-what did you call me? Last?” Finrod frowned, reaching as if to gather Maglor into his arms but at the last moment his attention was caught by something else and instead of pulling Maglor into an embrace he chuckled lowly and reached down to rub a hand across the prominent bulge visible through the just barely opaque fabric covering Maglor’s middle.
“Oh, you— you liked that?” He asked, his seductive act breaking for a moment as pure surprise flitted across his face and a mischievous grin followed almost as fast,
“Oh, you are a slut aren’t you, darling? Hmm? Do you like that? All trussed up for anyone to see you and take you, god, your hair isn’t even braided Macalaurë, what would Nelyo say?” Maglor shivered, his hips twitching forwards into Finrod’s touch as he stammered,
“H-has seen me, s-said I deserved t-to look like— like a whore if I spent my t-time acting like one when I was supposed t-to be g-getting ready for a party.” Finrod laughed again, pulling Maglor a little further back into the shadows and onto his lap as he mouthed at a point just below his ear, one hand splayed across Maglor’s belly and the other lazily rubbing over his tented trousers,
“Bet you liked that, huh, darling? Even when it was coming from your brother? You know he was telling the truth, right?” He chuckled again, pulling his hand back from the front of Maglor’s pants and Maglor let out a desperate whine, hips shifting up to follow his retreating hand,
“You’re leaking, little songbird, if you go back everyone will see, they’ll know, how does that make you feel? They’ll all know you’re a slut too.” Maglor threw back his head, baring his neck to Finrod’s eager lips and, breath hitching, replied,
“P-please, n-need you to— need to change b-but need you f-first.” Finrod nodded, pulling Maglor to his feet as he stood also and murmured,
“The only path back to the house is through the party but it we can make there it’s empty and there’s a store room on the ground floor that we can use, yes?” Maglor nodded dizzily, eager and barely able to think straight and Finrod wrapped his arm around his lover’s shoulders, guiding him stumblingly back through the party waving off those who tried to help with a simple excuse of,
“Don’t worry, Macalaurë’s just had quite a lot to drink,” Until finally they were alone and he was free to do as he pleased.
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Macalaurë cares for Tyelpë, with some interesting results.
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i love doing these omg pls debate me bc i was so tempted to put mae in the don't get it bit
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Or read on FFN
Maglor goes to war for a final time, the eternal darkness looms, and Elrond bargains with the Valar for the ransom of the House of Fëanor.
In which fathers give up everything for their sons, and their sons offer everything in return; title, name, and fëa. Or, the one where Maglor believes he is destined for eternal darkness, and Elrond politely says otherwise.
Chapter 1: The Last March of Maglor Fëanorion
Maglor makes a terrible resolution as tempest-fire awakes in the north.
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AU in which 2021 Maglor is being a depressed crab cryptid at night and is told to get of the beach and stop singing because of the covid curfew
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And my version of Maglor looks like Tindomion 😎This is a January drawing for Patreon 😊
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Maglor can be a murder AND a weepy musician at the same time. He contains multitudes!
This is very true!! In fact I would say those are his only main two personality traits and he likes to practice them simultaneously. Many a poor defenceless Teler has met their end being beaten over the head with a lute while their attacker sobs noisily and assures them multiple times that he's "a good guy, really, i promise, i'm even going to feel bad about this later"
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Maglor and Elrond are the Teflon Dons of the Silm, all the shit that happened in their lives and none of it seemed to stick. They're just chillin' somewhere like everything's all good.
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Hi! Sorry if you’re not doing prompts anymore, or don’t like this concept, but would you be able to do Maglor raising Elrond and Elros for #13? I love your writing.
It’s absolutely fine! I’ll keep doing prompts until I unpin the prompt list and say that prompts are closed in my description. (Thank you very much! I’m glad you enjoy my stuff)
From this prompt list.
13 - “Look! A shooting star! Make a wish!”
Maglor is loathe to leave his brother alone in their little house on the cliff side but there is to be a meeting with the last vestiges of their followers and the twins should not be there when they arrive.
On the upside, the summer night is beautiful and it is a joy to be able to lie back and simply relax.
The stars shine high above him and he used this opportunity to tell the twins some of the star stories that he can still recall his own father telling him.
Maglor cuts off in the middle of the story of Wilwarin to follow Elros’ excited finger.
“A shooting star! Make a wish!”
Elrond wrinkles his nose. “Wishes are stupid ‘Ros.”
“Elrond,” Maglor says warningly and Elrond pouts.
“What? I’m just telling the truth.”
“I don’t know. I’ve wished on stars before and they’ve come true. Varda is one of the greatest of the Valar after all: she can do anything if you ask nicely enough.”
“Please Varda,” Elros starts, before Elrond can cut in again. “If you would be much obliged, could you please make sure that we are all kept very safe and sound and that Morgoth doesn’t find us again please and thank you. And can you please make sure that Elrond knows I am right. Thank you.”
He looks up at Maglor. “Do you think I was polite enough?”
Maglor smiles, hiding a laugh at Elros’ seriousness and also aching that his young ward is thinking of his safety when he could wish for anything in the world. “Quite. I am sure that Varda will have a hard time ignoring a request like that.”
He ruffles Elros’ hair and returns to his story, tucking them both into his arms.
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Maedhros, Turgon and Maglor and s/o with angel wings
Requested by: @softnessfrommyheart
May I request headcanons for Maedhros, Turgon, and Maglor for s/o with angel wings? Like their reactions to it and if she can fly
A/N: first I want to apologize for taking so long, I struggled a little bit with this (headcanons are a bit hard for me) and I’ve been busy lately. Hope you like it!
Also thank you @unipork22 and @red-riding for helping me💞
• The fact that you had wings made you different from the rest of the creatures in Middle-Earth so noticing you was easy for everyone
• You like to fly around the sky visiting different parts of Beleriand and the beautiful views
• One time you visited Himring, the beautiful city seemed precious from over the clouds
• You preferred to fly up above cause in that way no one will notice your presence, but this time you caught the attention of a special Ellon
• This Ellon was a Feanorian, the Lord of Himring, Maedhros
• He saw you gracefully flying up above the sky, at first he thought he was seeing one of Manwe’s eagles at the distance, but then he saw he was wrong
• He looked in awe to you not believing his eyes at first, rubbing them constantly but only to conclude that what he was seeing was not a vision but real
• He saw at the distance you descended to one of the highest mountains in Himring, you were enjoying the beautiful view it had to offered
• So Maedhros left all his pending duties only to meet you, you were something he was not expecting to see again in his life so he needed to see you more closely
• Maedhros found himself amazed by your beautiful wings, not wanting to interrupt you or to scare you he stayed hidden on one big rock, even though you knew he was already there
• “I know you are there” you said still looking to the horizon, so he showed himself to you, there wasn’t any reason to stay hidden
• He got the chance to speak to you and both Maedhros and you found yourselves happy and comfortable in each other’s presence, so he invited you to stay with him, an offer you accepted
• You became close friends and you told him about the places you had visited and he told you about Valinor
• You always found him staring at your wings and you let Maedhros touch them, he praised them a lot cause for him they were beautiful
• But when you told him people always saw you as strange and weird because of them he was quick to assure you he didn’t see you in that way
• “(Y/N) you are perfect and I feel sorry for the ones who don’t know how to see that in you”
• Maedhros took you to see the most beautiful places in Himring with the excuse you deserved to see the best spots
• So spending that much amount of time with him made you fall for him and he fell for you so it didn’t passed long until you both confessed your feelings.
• During one of your trips around the sky, you decided to rest under the trees in the woods around Beleriand
• You were on the lawn feeling the breeze and then you heard a lovely song coming from the woods
• Curious, you decided to see who was playing that song and that was when you met Maglor
• He sat peacefully on the lawn, playing his harp while singing with a melodious and perfect voice
• You hid yourself behind of a tree but that was no too much since your wings were big and they usually made sounds around
• That was when Maglor noticed your presence
• He was enchanted by our appearance and how majestic your wings were
• He approached you slowly and you just stayed where you were
• He started to speak with you and soon you felt comfortable around him
• He invited you to sit with him and listen to more of his songs
• But he could not hide his curiosity
• Every now and then he made questions about you and your beautiful wings
• During these conversations you both saw that you had a lot in common
• Eventually you spent more time together and the feelings started to show up
• But neither of you had the courage to assume all those feelings
• Until one day he decided to say and you told him about yours as well
• Maglor loved you and saw beauty in you since the beginning
• And you can rest assured that this would not change
• It was uncommon to see movement around Gondolin, so of course you were easily noticed
• Turgon was at on of the balconies when he first saw you and he thought it was one of the eagles that used to fly around the hidden city
• So he just ignored it and just went inside his castle
• A few days later when you were resting around the city, the guards saw you and decided to take you to the king
• That was when Turgon realized it was not an eagle that was flying around his city
• At first, he was very suspicious over you
• The problem wasn’t exactly you, but since Gondolin was hidden he got suspicious over everything and everyone that approached the city
• However, he couldn’t deny he was curious about your form
• He dismissed the guards and decided to ask you all kinds of questions and didn’t take long to ask about your wings
• He was very curious about it and amazed how attractive you were
• He invited you to stay, and at first you didn’t want to but you enjoyed the city so much that you decided it would be your new home
• People around used to stare a lot, not understanding why the King would allow such a different creature to stay
• But eventually he defended you, and people stopped to make comments
• Spending so much time together, you both realized you actually had a lot in common
• He taught you new things and you did the same, as you both loved to change experiences
• Once you decided to talk to him about your feelings, only to realize that it was mutual
• And of course, Turgon promised to stay by your side, love and protect you until the end
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This is a little sequel to my previous HC/AU post. It’s VERY fluffy and very AU, so if you’re not into it, consider yourselves warned;) I personally always felt, that many Silmarillion characters deserved better:) so here we go:
I had an idea, that Elmo would eventually find his way to Feanorians and would truly befriend them. It would start by him helping Maitimo. I guess, that elvish healers living in Middle-earth would be more used to dealing with various traumas than the Valinorian ones. Because Middle-earth was never really purged of evil, elves venturing outside the borders of Doriath would frequently fell victims to various attacks, get tortured etc. Elmo, as one of the most powerful healers in Arda, would thus have plenty of experience and would be able to help Maitimo with issues that the Noldorin healers couldn’t tackle. Also, as an apt physical therapist, he would give Maitimo a medical massage every time he would visit Himring and he would even create a special set of exercises that would help substantially improve Maitimo’s damaged shoulder. Later, he would teach Makalaure (upon his request) about these things as well, so that he could be able to help his brother in Elmo’s absence.
This would be the first step. During his sessions with Maitimo, Elmo would develop strong respect and admiration for this young man. And slowly, as he would get to know the rest of them too, he would start to understand them and later grow truly fond of them. In the end, the feelings would become mutual. I had this idea, that eventually they would even sometimes refer to him as “uncle Elmo“ (OK, lets be honest, Carnistir probably wouldn’t:) but even he would eventually stop calling him “that Teleri b***h” and would start referring to him by his name;)).
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I finally found the energy to type up chapter 8! So here it is!
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oh wait! 28 - angry teenage elrond (angst)
Of course! I love a bit of angry teenage Elrond.
From this prompt list.
28 - “Were you ever going to tell me?”
Maglor plucks at the strings of his harp, desperately willing an actual melody and song to come to him even as none do. It is frustrating, to say the least, that the first moment he has to himself in over a week is lacking any and all inspiration for the music he has been wanting to play as he works.
There is a knock on the door and Maglor puts the instrument down - mayhap he needs a distraction and then inspiration may grace him from the void.
“Come in!” He calls and uncurls himself from his place on the rickety bed. “Oh, Elrond. I thought you were out with your father and Elros.”
Elrond scowls and slams the door behind him with enough force to shake the wall.
“Elrond, don’t do that.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
Maglor raises an eyebrow. “Tell you what?”
“I don’t know,” Elrond says scathingly. “That you’re a murderer three times over? That our parents wilfully abandoned us? That you’ve been lying to us for years?”
“Yes. I was: we were. Where did you hear of this?”
Elrond purses his lips. “Atya and Erestor were talking.”
“And you were eavesdropping?” Maglor has a realisation. “Does you father even know you are here?”
Elrond doesn’t reply.
“Nandafinwë.” Maglor pinches the bridge of his nose. “Come on, we’re going to find your brother and your father before either of them worry themselves to death.” He catches sight of Elrond’s face. “We can talk on the way.”
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Chapter 2: Goodbye To Blood And Tears (Do You Remember Me)
-8th Jan. 300 the Fifth Age-
“You will… go tomorrow…” Yavanna informed Mairon in a slitly shaking voice. Mairon just nodded slightly.
“You should go pack.” Whispered Aule, and Mairon just nodded again.
When Mairon had left Aule turned to Yavanna with a hopeless look in his eyes, “we finally gets him back, and then th-then, he steals him again!”
“I know,” Yavanna her husband an awkward pet on the back.
-o0o- BLOOD WARNING -o0o-
Maglor woke up as he was pulled ruthless down his bed by his hair.
“Those bastards!” he could hear Morgoth cursing over him as he dragged him down the way to the cellar.
When they reached the cellar Morgoth threw him hard down on the floor and quickly stepped down hard on his back so he could move away from the horrors that was about to happened.
When the fast lash hit him he moaned but soon there was blood and he screamed with each blow.
Then all went black.
A foot cruelly kicked his stomach hard and Maglor woke up to only agony in his body as he curled in on himself to better protect himself.
The next time he woke Morgoth had left but that didn’t change his back was a bloody open wound at the moment.
He slowly tried to stand up but found that he couldn’t.
Right now he could only lay down on the floor and feel bad for Maedhros. He had been right. Morgoth took pleasure in others pain but only when he was frustrated, otherwise he didn’t care if people was in pain or hurt, unless it was one of his own.
Olorin had been the first sacrifice, but he had given himself on the day Namo had talked about Erus whish. Maglor had been the first and later to Maglors dismiss had Ereinion come. Thankfully the fallen Vala kept away from him and only let his anger and frustration out on Maglor, if he didn’t just leave the place for days, sometimes even weeks.
He slowly stood up after some time and grunted when he pulled at the lashes.
He needed to find a new shirt. This one was ruined.
“WHAT HAPPENED!” Ereinion cried in shock as his eyes found Maglor, “are you okay!?”
“Stupid qustien!” Maglor hissed, “help me to my room.”
“Are you feeling better?” Olorin asked as he moved away from his back. He had healed his back with a song.
“Much!” Maglor breathed in relief, “thank you,” he added.
“Why did he do that!?” Ereinion asked horrified as he walked into the room with some fried eggs and orange juice, “I mean, I have never seen him do that. When I came here first I would have excepted it but… he´s just not what I excepted and now I… he-“ “I know.” Maglor whispered, “he doesn’t like all the paperwork, and the part were he´s suppose to stay in Valinor for some time, to get it all into place. He doesn’t like that, and then he turns into Morgoth!” The last was utterd with bitterness in his voice.
“I see.” Ereinion said as he putted down the food beside Maglor.
-o0o- BLOOD WARNING IS OVER -o0o-
“GOTHMOG!!!!” Melkor knocked even harder on the door.
“WHAT!” Gothmog hissed from behind him. Melkor turned around and smiled wickedly, “you have finely mastered the art of a sneak attack!” He declared and clapped loudly in front of his friend, “shut up Mel!”
“I´m pretty sure I asked you to meet me in the garage for about half an hour ago!”
“You did.” Melkor agreed.
A few hours later in Gothmogs car.
“I still gets creeps of this bridge,” Melkor started, “I mean how do they make sure it doesn’t break!”
“Keep you off it as long as possible I guess,” answered a still pissed Gothmog. They where always late and his ears already hurt at the thought of listing to Eonwes bragging about them being late again when Melkor was out of sight.
Another few hours later in Valinor.
Gothmog had parked in the big parking lot and was now cursed to be in a little elevator with Melkor that had taken his headphones on and scrolled through Tumblr on his phone completely ignoring the world. An Eonwe that looked like it toke great self control to not just begin cursing him in front of Melkor, and an awful elevator music.
Finally after agonizing minutes opened the door.
Melkor strode down a corridor and Eonwe showed him down another corridor and began bragging about what an awful person he was.
“Are you okay Mairon?” Aule asked as he pulled away from the bone braking hug even though he knew the answer, “as okay as I can get I suppose?” Mairon gave Aule a happy smile to lift the spirit a bit more.
Yavanna walked quickly over and hugged him in a crushing hug, “I´m going to miss you more then anything!”
“It´s okay!” Mairon answered and patted her back awkwardly.
When she finely let go off him he could see a big man standing in the door entrance with Eonwe. His good friend… he never would see again. The man was quite tall and bulky built, he had a light brown skin as if he had been out in the sun lately, semi long straight black hair with red tips, sharp futures, small sad entirely black eyes, thin lips, high thick bones. Basically he looked like an elf if not for the goat like ears, black eyes and curly horns on his head that some of his hair had found its way around.
Otherwise he looked normal with dark blue jeans a white t-shirt with some holes and a pair of sunglasses could be seen in a pocket of a black leather jacket that was dropped over his shoulder.
Mairon quickly hugged the last people goodbye and then took hold of his backpack with some clothes, his headphones, some food and water and a toothbrush. Then he walked over to the guy with an uneasy smile.
At least this was not Morgoth!
The man just turned around and began walking with Mairon and Eonwe after him.
When they had found a black jeep he turned around and hugged Eonwe like it was the last day of his life. Maybe It was. He did not know yet. “I´m going to miss you” he whispered in his friends ear before sitting himself in the car.
“So am I! Farwell my friend!”
“My name is Mairon-“ Mairon started he didn’t like the silence, “I know.” Answered the man.
“… And what are you name?” Mairon asked nerves.
“Gothmog.” Wonderful! He sat beside a balrog!
A few hours later.
“We are about to cross the bridge, but I’m hungry,” started the balrog, “do you like MacDonald’s?”
“I… y-yes!” Mairon stuttered at the unexpected question.
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36, 38 or 47 for the Raising Elflings AU? ❤️
Oh no, now you’re making me choose! I’ll do 47, I think I can get the most family feels from that one.
From this prompt list.
47 - “This is home?”
Maitimo is in a lot of pain all over his body but he does not let it show lest Makalaurë see. His little brother has papers and forms spread across all the sheets - only grudgingly letting Maitimo look through them - and sits in the middle, just beside Maitimo’s feet as he marks them up with a frown on his face.
“I wish this weren’t so difficult,” He mutters and huffs, blowing a lock of hair from his face. It flutters back down and Makalaurë’s frown grows into a scowl as he goes cross-eyed to look at it.
Maitimo leans forward with an ever-so-slight wince and tucks the offending hair behind his brother’s ears.
“I can help.”
Makalaurë shakes his head. “Absolutely not. You’re still recovering.”
“We’ve had this conversation already Makalaurë. And Mairon agreed with me - it’s better than sitting idle in bed and I need to be up to date with everything before I take over my duties again.”
At the mention of Mairon, Makalaurë’s hands go limp and lets Maitimo take the quill and paper from his brother’s hands.
He takes a quick glance at the first raises an eyebrow at the ink sprayed across the paper. “This is indecipherable Káno.”
“I know, I know, I just...” Makalaurë trails off and looks away, playing a song in the air in front of him, his fingers plucking at an invisible instrument. “This is home? Right? We can’t go back to Tirion and I...it’s so overwhelming to create something that we’re going to live in forever.”
“I’m here to help. And...” Maitimo hesitates before ploughing on. “And Mairon too.”
“Yes. I know. But you’re ill and I don’t want to scare off Mairon by being all needy. I can do it so I should.”
Maitimo bites his lip thoughtfully before the voice of his father that has recently taken up residence in his head reminds him it’s a rather ungainly habit and forces himself to stop.
“I am sure,” Maitimo starts slowly. “That Mairon will not overly mind if we requested his help so long as we did most of the work. He’s nice and that’s what nice people do, I think. And I will be better very soon - if he doesn’t help, I am sure we can put this aside until I can.”
Makalaurë’s next argument is cut off by a yawn which he tries to hide with his hands. He blinks blearily as Maitimo bundles the paper up, setting it neatly on the bedside table.
“And we are definitely putting it aside so you can sleep Laurë.” Makalaurë pouts but Maitimo flicks the blanket up and pats the space it leaves.
Makalaurë looks like he might complain but seems to think better of it, pulling off his over clothes and scooting forward to slips under the covers. He is asleep in moments, his head buried in Maitimo’s shoulder and curled up tightly.
Maitimo can’t follow his lead. He lies in the semi-dark, one arm wrapped around his baby brother, and tries not to think.
The dark is the worst place to alone. It leaves time for remembering other dark places filled with pain and hurt and whispers that bury themselves into his soul.
The flap of the tent is pulled back and Mairon enters, slipping in and lighting the room up with his faint glow.
He smiles. “Still awake?” He asks softly as he settles down in his seat. He picks up the pile of paper from the table and begins to flick through.
“Yes.” Maitimo shifts just slightly so that he can get a better look at Mairon from where he lies. “Sleep isn’t...easy.”
Mairon purses his lips and Maitimo winces. Was that the wrong thing to say?
His fears prove to be unfounded. “Ah.” Mairon pauses halfway to reaching the quill. “Sleep terrors?”
“Something like that.” It’s stupid, really: he hasn’t been scared of a monster under the bed since he was three.
But meeting real monsters...
“I’ll be here.” Mairon gives him a smile - Maitimo likes his smile, it isn’t cold and pursed like his mother’s and it isn’t wild and manic like his fathers. It’s soft and a little tentative as if Mairon isn’t entirely sure what to do with it and Maitimo likes the feeling of safety and...love it gives him. “Do not fear the dark.”
Maitimo gives him a small smile back and tries. For once when he closes his eyes, there is a warmth that covers his mind like a shield but softer. A blanket that feels of Mairon￼￼.
Maitimo relaxes involuntarily and is soon pulled into the eddies of sleep.
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Fics are starting up again in the upcoming week! Requests are welcomed!
Also have some news to share! I found out I'm having a baby girl! Only five months left!
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