#medieval! Meássë | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 9 months

Note

Hello my friend! Hope you'll have a lovely August!🧡

Could I get some Meássë headcanons? General, medieval AU, whatever's on your mind that you'd like to share. I love her and need to hear more about her ^^

Hello! Thank you for the ask! I hope you will like this full Medieval AU Bio I did of her.

Full list of the great noble house of Valinor can be read here.

Rules and tag form here | Prompts for requests here.

Warnings: Mentions of illness, death, and weapons use

Get to know: Medieval! Meássë

⚔️Early life and family: Lady Meássë was born into House Tarkil, a minor noble house sworn to House Shield. She is the younger twin of Makar and was raised in the family seat of Crescent Peak.

Despite their standing as a noble house, House Tarkil had little in the way of coin, their lands were hard to farm, and members often served in House Shield’s household guard. Still, they persevered, with Lord and Lady Tarkil doing everything possible to ensure their children wanted very little. Meássë had a good childhood alongside her twin brother, often training beside him in the sparring yard. Much like other high-born ladies, Meássë was taught traditional feminine arts such as art and embroidery, but she preferred her lessons in archery, horseback riding, jousting, and hunting. She would often join in on hunting expeditions.

This hard but somewhat idyllic life ended when a plague spread through the land and killed many of those who contracted it. Meássë and her brother survived, but most of their household did not. Due to debts incurred by senior family members, the twins lost their home. Tulkas, the new lord of House Shield, invited them to stay with him in Stonehearth. The twins agreed, and both soon rose to the rank of captain of the household guard for House Shield.

⚔️Appearance and Personality: Meássë takes after her father’s side of the family and possesses the same auburn hair, pale skin, and vivid green eyes many members of House Tarkil are known for. Unlike Makar, Meássë is slender and lithe, with lean muscles. She is also noted for her height. Meássë stands over six feet tall, but is not as tall as her twin.

She wears her hair in heavy braids and coils when fighting or hunting, and only keeps it loose for feasts and frolics. She will dress well but simply, often preferring soft wools over silk and velvet.

Meássë, much like the rest of her family, once believed that elves had no place in Valinorian society. However, time spent with the elves serving Tulkas made her adopt a more tolerant view. She possesses the same fiery temper as other family members. Unlike her twin, however, Meássë is more willing to listen to reason if the occasion calls for it.

⚔️Weapons and armor: Prior to joining House Shield, Meássë’s armor consisted of boiled leather and light chain mail and thin plated armor without color or device. After she was made captain of House Shield's household guard, she was given new armor of heavy steel plate enameled in a deep crimson. The crest of her helm bears a crouched lioness wrought in yellow gold with rubies for eyes.

Her shield bears the bloodied hand sigil of House Tarkil.

Her preferred weapon for both hunting and war is the spear. However, she is just as skilled with the bow and lance, the latter being used often during jousts.

⚔️Relationship with her twin: Meássë was once close to her twin, often confiding in him, sharing secrets and seeking his counsel. That slowly changed when they moved to Stone Hearth, and she spent more time with Tulkas and his attendants.

The twins grew distant because Makar did not like that she was more welcoming toward elves. Meássë opened her eyes and saw her brother’s darker impulses and attitudes for what they were.

Besides Tulkas, Oromë, and a handful of others, Meássë is the only person that does not fear her brother.

⚔️Other relationships: Meássë formed a friendship with Lúsion, and even Tilion and Nessa, as High Tree Hall is not far from Stone Hearth. She and Nessa would often try to outrace each other on horseback.

Tulkas took her under his wing after seeing her potential as a true warrior. Theirs began as a mentor/student relationship, but this relationship slowly morphed into something else over time. This further strained her relationship with her twin. Makar never truly liked Tulkas, despite him taking the twins in after they lost their family and their home.

⚔️Romances: Meássë had several casual relationships before she became involved with Tulkas. Most ended amicably.

tags: @asianbutnotjapanese @edensrose @wandererindreams @floragardeniahope

#the book of lost tales #the book of lost tales imagine #Meássë #Meássë imagine #medieval!au #medieval! ainur #medieval! Meássë #Tulkas #medieval! tulkas #Makar #medieval! makar #headcanon #medieval au headcanon #the valar #the ainur #tolkien

12 notes · View notes

maitimiel · 7 years

Text

Innumerable Stars 2017

This was supposed to be a very quick letter with half a dozen characters and stuff but then! Worldbuilding tags? Why must you do this to me, Amy? You evil. I want all. But I HAVE SELF CONTROL. I tried to tag only worldbuilding tags that had something to do with my requested characters, but I'm gonna be upfront: You can focus as much on them as you wish. If you don't care for that kind of thing and wish to ignore it: totally cool. If you wish to write super meta-y fic, with so much worldbuilding that there's barely any plot: Awesome. Cause I love everything that I've requested and will be thrilled with anything involving any of these.

I love outsider pov fics, or fics that involve people thinking or remembering about characters, or even fics who are from a historian trying to figure out the character from the past. I also love fics which explore a character's relationship with people we don't usually associate with them, or typically "background" characters, such as messengers, handmaidens, cooks, random soldiers, tailors, Mariners, etc.

I also really like stories that twist the traditional characterization of a character, so if you have any unusual headcanons that you'd like to experiment with, I'm your girl.

I like strong sibling bonds and strong friendship bonds between characters of any gender. When it comes to elf culture, the more casually alien to ours, the best.

I have no triggers. Any warnings and any ratings are fine.

Farmer Giles of Ham - J.R.R. Tolkien

The King's Cook - I have no idea why do i like this character who barely appears so much, but I do. If you do shippy, i ship him with the king, and if you don't, any exploration on why does he get so much leeway around the castle and why people bother so much not to offend him will do.

The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Daurin Tórin & Míriel - You know, i was first made aware of Daurin Tórin's existence in Innumerable Stars last year, for which i'm very grateful. I usually headcanon he and Míriel to be extremely close and dependent on each other until the moment she decided to marry Finwë. I also like to hc him to be against the whole going to valinor thing, but following her anyway. There is so little fic that'd i'll be happy with any kind of setting, from teenage years in cuivienen to late in Míriels pregnancy. I'd love to see how they evolved through different events in their lives and how did they grow closer/apart. As usual, i'm fine with angst, and quite happy with some bittersweetness, though humor and hopeful moments are also lovely.

Meássë - There is so little info about her that there's space to expand on everything. Her relationship with Makar, her status as a "warrior goddess", her early alignment with melkor, her opposition to the bringing of the children of Eru to Valinor. We know she lived near Mandos, so what kind of a relationship did she have with him and/or Vairë? I put the "Concept of Gender Among the Ainur" in here thinking about her, though obviously you don't have to include that. I was thinking, though, since in most sources of the legendarium the Valar do not seem to bear children, what is that differentiates male from female? And i'd kind of see Meàssë dismissing all and any typically female parts, but perhaps embracing a more wild relationship with her own body.

Worldbuilding:

I've included a bunch of tags just to give an idea of what i like. As I said earlier, i'm not committed to one single hc about anything. I LOVE seeing different interpretations of these elements. however, i would prefer things not to be overly "medieval europe" style. I'd love to see other sources used and combined in a way that makes sense to you. If you can see it, i will too. I particularly like things that have a more pagan tone, or, alternatively, an eastern aesthetic. For the more spiritual elements, anything that separates elves/ainur from humans is awesome.

I have selected these tags from the tagset, but really, any kind of worldbuilding is A+ for me:

Laws and mores surrounding death threats in post-Darkening Valinor

Religion and Belief

The Bond of Marriage

Trade in First Age Beleriand

Valinorean Fauna

Worldbuilding: Fashion in any culture or time period (Silm)

Worldbuilding: Healing/Medicine

Worldbuilding: Holidays or Festivals

Worldbuilding: The Concept of Gender Among the Ainur

The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)

Thranduil/Legolas - I don't like stories where Legolas is overly submissive to his father. I'd like to see them playing in more or less even conditions. But otherwise, i'll take anything. I like to see Legolas standing up both for and against his father's decisions, and challenging him. I don't mind a bit of manipulation and or political issues brought into their personal lives, but I also like the idea of them closing themselves behind doors and leaving problems outside. I would love some hurt/comfort between them, or wine fueled philosophical discussions (gossip) about life, culture, courtiers, anything.

Tauriel & Thranduil - I'd love to see some Tauriel backstory! I like the idea of her parents being killed in battle or something and Thranduil raising her, but even if that's not the case, how did their relationship work? How did they treat each other? Are they family, or friends, or simply king and subject, and why? Tauriel being somehow related to Thranduil's wife is also interesting to me.

Worldbuilding: Orc Culture - Elves studying Orcs and finding out they're not as uncivilized as previously thought? Or elves wanting to study orcs, lacking any real basis, and having endless discussions/arguments about what is and what isn't, how can you even know, Imma fight you! kind of stuff. I could be into both the silly and the more complex sides of this, so enjoy yourself :)

the relationship between Thranduil's wellbeing and Mirkwood's - having any character notice this, and try to poke/investigate at it. Legolas or Tauriel being concerned about Thranduil, especially if Thranduil is defensive and doesn't want to talk about it.

Smith of Wootton Major - J. R. R. Tolkien

Tim of Townsend/Ned Smithson - I think that Ned, being the Smithson, would be in the best possible position to truly understand Tim and his life. I think he wouldn't ask many questions, and would support him regardless of any weirdness. On his side, I presume that to Tim, Ned would be a very solid, very comforting presence. I think I'd prefer a fluffy fic here, but it's fine to have a bit of angst if you'd like to portray a getting together story. but both getting together and established relationship work fine, and long night drinking tea and talking, or walks through the forest, or Tim ogling Ned while he works. Eh, have fun.

Thanks for your patience!

#exchange letters

0 notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

Text

Medieval! Tulkas x Meássë Masterlist

Anything

#medieval!au #Medieval! ainur #Medieval! Tulkas #Medieval! Meássë #Tulkas #Meássë

1 note · View note

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

Text

“Anything”

Pairing: Meássë x Tulkas

Themes: Smut | Medieval! Ainur

Summary: Meássë returns to explain her actions to Tulkas.

Word count: 2.3k words

Rating: 🔥🔥🔥 | Minors DNI. You are responsible for the media you consume. | 18+ | Rules and tag form here.

A/n: This is a continuation of this ficlet.

Tulkas stood beside the fireplace when she walked into the hall that evenfall. "Come for more, my lady?"

"I have come to explain." Meássë straightened her spine and looked Tulkas in the eye. She was not telling him how his kiss had preyed on her all day. "My kiss was just a means of distraction. That is all. Your kiss... it... it meant nothing to me."

Tulkas, pretending to be wounded, pouted before giving his favorite student a measured look. "Nothing, you say. However, you are different whenever we dine together, if we train, or if I am near you. You are quieter and more likely to listen and rein in your temper. I have not seen that in you when you are with anyone else. Not even your twin."

Meássë had the decency to blush. Tulkas, not wanting to press the issue, took pity on her and said, "Come. Dine with me. We can carry on like nothing untoward took place."

"You are not angry?" She asked, confused. Despite his ready laughter and easy smile, Tulkas had a temper and his pride.

"I am not Makar, my lady," Tulkas replied, and strode to the small dining table on the dais. "I will not hold a lady's refusals against her. I certainly do not believe in taking what is not offered to me freely.”

Meássë blushed again, this time with shame. Still, she followed Tulkas and took her customary place by his right hand. Her lord lifted a little bell by his side and rang for the food.

Tulkas knew how to set a generous table. It was in his nature to do so. Elves came into the Lord's Hall carrying polished wooden trays laden with roast fowl and olives and cheese and beets and greens, followed by little onion tarts and fresh river fish roasted with herbs and apples baked in cinnamon and sugar. Meássë was served generous portions of each dish, but found her usually hearty appetite deserting her. Every time she glanced at Tulkas, she found him gilded by the faint light of nearby candles. His hair was like new gold, and his amber eyes were warm and open. Her gaze drifted to his lips. Meássë blushed and turned away. She remembered how her skin prickled when that thick, coarse beared of his brushed against her cheeks and remembered his kiss, how his lips simply crushed hers, how it set her body ablaze with hunger and need. Thoughts of his lips gliding over her skin slowly seeped into her mind. She turned to face Tulkas again. Her lord was studying her silently and intensely.

"Leave us," he commanded. The elves gracefully curtsied and bowed before leaving the hall and closing the great doors behind them. He turned to Meásse as soon as the doors slammed shut.

"My kiss meant nothing, you say," he observed, drumming his fingers against his cup as he did so. "Then why do you look at me with such burning hunger?"

Meássë felt a flush creeping up her neck. "You imagine things, my lord," she mumbled in a rush.

"Do I?" Tulkas pushed his chair back and rose. He set his cup to one side and inched his way over to her. "Then why are your cheeks tinged in pretty shades of pink? Hmm? Why is your breath ragged? Your eyes too curious for their own fucking good?"

"I..." Meássë's tongue tied itself in knots when Tulkas curled his fingers around stray locks of her hair. "My lord..."

"Your hair," he coos, "How I have often pictured it spread all over my pillows under a spill of starlight."

"You have?" Meássë nearly fell out of her chair in her hurry to stand.

Tulkas grinned in triumph. "Yes," he replied softly before letting go of her wisps of hair. "Many a moment when I lay in bed. I have seen your hair spread out all over my pillows. I have felt your nails raking down my back while I filled you with my cock and my seed. The things I have done to you in my dreams... Words alone cannot describe them."

"You are being impudent now, my lord," Meássë retorted, embarrassed by how easily her body prickled and heated at the thought of him bedding her. "I would be within my rights to strike you and leave."

"I am merely being honest." Tulkas simply smiled and spread his hands. "And as I said before, I do not take what is not given to me freely. If you do not wish to go beyond us sparring and sharing meals, you need only say the word, and this conversation will end here."

Meássë licked her lips and studied him. She wanted to say, "Thank you, my lord, but I must decline," and would have succeeded had her own curiosity not gotten the best of her.

"What do you do to me in these dreams?"

Tulkas did not answer with words. He grabbed her and leaned in, his lips possessing hers. Meássë suddenly found herself unraveling the same way she did when Tulkas kissed her the first time. Her entire body was aflame with raw, unbridled lust. Her eyes flutter shut when she felt him flush against her. Desperate to draw him even closer, she tried to throw her arms around his shoulders. Her attempts were a failure. Tulkas was tall, taller than even her twin. But she did not have to say anything. Tulkas crouched and slipped his arms under her thighs, lifting her up with ease. He growled when she returned his kisses with equal passion.

“Eager!" he laughed into his kiss and set her down on the table. "And so desperate. Will you let me do whatever I want to you tonight?"

Meássë found herself being pulled into a dark tunnel of desire. Tulkas was over her and around her. His kisses were rough, his lips greedy, and his hands gentle, despite being callused after years of fighting and sword use. White-hot jolts of pleasure licked up her spine when she felt them palm her breasts and play with her nipples over the fabric of her tunic.

"Anything," she pleaded, even as she surrendered and her body grew pliant. "You can do anything."

There was a sharp rip. Tulkas had shoved his hand down the front of her tunic and tore it down the center before tugging his own over his head and throwing it to the floor. Meássë whimpered when he drew her back into his embrace and she felt his skin over hers.

So warm, she mused, her mind growing hazy by the fury of his kisses. His skin is so fucking warm.

Tulkas shivered when she slipped her arms around his shoulders, and her nails gouged into his back. "Anything?" He hissed through his teeth. "Wonderful."

He dropped down to his haunches and went to work on her boots. One joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. The other followed not long after. Tulkas rose again and loosened the lacings of Meássë's riding leathers, fully aware her eyes were on him the entire time.

His hair was like a river of gold now, and those tattoos of his—how they gleamed in the light. When they lay in bed, she thought to ask about them, what they meant, and touch every one of them. She could let her lips and tongue glide over them if he liked it. But that was all for later. When he said so, Meássë lifted her hips, and her leathers and small clothes were pulled down her legs and thrown along with the ruins of her tunic unceremoniously to the floor, leaving her exposed. Tulkas took a moment to drink her in: her alabaster skin, her seashell-pink lips, her thick, auburn hair. Then there were her eyes. They were sharp and a vivid green, eyes he imagined himself drowning in.

"You are a vision, my lady," he whispered in admiration.

Meássë blushed and looked away. There may have been others, but no one looked at her like Tulkas did, with eyes filled with reverence. It left her speechless. He gripped her chin, and his mouth opening over hers soon drowned out her thoughts. His kiss tasted of honey and cloves. The sweet, clean scent of him soon filled her with each breath. When he cupped her back her legs slid open and moved up his thighs before resting over his hips. Tulkas growled softly.

"When I take you to bed after this, I am going to fuck you until you cannot walk," he vowed, nibbling the shell of her ear.

"I will hold you to that vow," Meássë murmured helplessly.

"I have dreamed of this," he said as he slid a finger over her slit, groaning when he found her slick and wet and ready for him. He tightened his other arm around her waist while slipping his finger into her hole, sending waves of unimaginable bliss coursing over her entire body. "And not just sinking my fingers inside of you, either. I want to feel you come around my cock."

"And as I said, my lord, you can do anything to me." Meássë was overwhelmed by what he was doing to her. Tulkas was exceedingly skilled, even when it came to giving pleasure. He made her feel like she was drowning and being pulled under the waves repeatedly. And he was so perfect. So utterly perfect. All through the day, all she could think of was his kiss. Now he was before her, making her feel pleasure she had never experienced before.

"Good girl," he whispered approvingly. Tulkas sank to his knees and pressed little kisses over the expanse of her legs. He did not stop until he reached the apex between her thighs. Meássë threw her head back and cried out softly, her hands digging into the edge of the table when he ran his tongue over her cunt again and again. She forced herself to open her eyes. Tulkas would grunt with each lick, his hands gripping hard at her flesh whenever he pressed deeper. She murmured under her breath. Her secret sweetness soon poured onto his tongue and lips and even his beard. He flicked his eyes at her and found her pretty green ones dark and needy and wanton. Meássë sighed and trembled. A sweet tightness grew in her belly. She was close. She could feel it. But it was not enough. His tongue, as sinful as it was, was not enough.

"I need you inside of me," she breathed, her voice hoarse and ragged.

Tulkas did not have to be told twice. He stood up and moved his hands to his belt, tugging down on his breeches just low enough to free his cock after he undid the buckle. Greedy hands moved to her hips. He kissed her again, and Meássë could taste her essence all over his lips and tongue. His beard tickled against her skin just like it did while he was between her thighs. The prickling feeling proved too overwhelming, and she kissed him all the harder for it.

"Desperate little slut," Tulkas laughed softly against her skin. "Yes?"

Meássë, utterly lost in a red haze of lust by now, managed a weak, "Yes."

Tulkas laughed again, taking his time to kiss all over her throat before nipping it with his teeth. Meássë moaned softly when he guided his cock into her velvety core, prodding her open little by little. He felt thick against her walls and she squirmed as he moved inch by agonizing inch. When he filled her completely and started to move, she jolted. Pleasure and pain mingled in a heady mix while she shuddered and sobbed his name.

"You are so fucking tight," he muttered and slid his arms around her waist. The table slowly creaked every time he thrust and bruised the insides of her thighs with his hips. "So tight. And how well you take me. It is as if you were made for me."

"And you feel so good inside me," Meássë could not help but reply. Every time Tulkas found that place that gave her indescribable pleasure, it made her see stars behind her eyes. "My lord."

Tulkas whimpered softly. "Touch me," he urged, desperate to feel her hands all over him. "Please."

It was even better than his wildest dreams. Elegant hands glided over his arms, splayed over his torso and the small of his back, setting him ablaze whoever they touched. Meássë's skin was so soft, like her velvety insides. Tulkas groaned when nails raked through his hair and sinful lips kept seeking his. He grew drunk on it all and was soon lost in her flesh.

"Scream for me," he commanded when Meássë bit back her cries. "I want to hear you scream for me."

"But the elves… your attendants…"

"They will not say a word even if they hear. Let go. I command you to let go."

It was as if a dam had burst. Meássë’s cries spilled free and rattled around the hall. Tulkas thrust even harder, and new jolts of pleasure struck them both. He pushed her onto her back before quickening his already tortuous pace. The new angle he found sent her spiraling. Her back arched every time he drew his hips back and pushed them back in. Meássë had to grab at anything she could to try and keep herself steady. She knocked a glass over in her bid to hold onto something. It fell to the ground with a loud crash.

“Mine," he groaned whenever her walls fluttered and grew tighter and tighter around his cock. "You are mine."

His words undid her completely. Meássë’s body shook as her orgasm ripped through her. Hot flashes of pleasure spread all over her while Tulkas thrust one final time, moaning deeply when he filled her with his spend, his nail digging into her hips. Meássë could not move and lay there, too lost in her own state of bliss to even care.

The world came into focus little by little. Tulkas pulled out of her, leaving her feeling strangely empty. Meássë tried to regain a sense of bearing and soon found herself being carried and covered in something incredibly soft. She opened her eyes. That something soft was a pelt finer than silk. Tulkas crooned sweet words of endearment into her ear while he settled into his chair, keeping her with him as he did so. He brushed his lips over her hair. She sighed wistfully and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Eat," Tulkas said gently, and proceeded to feed her with morsels from his plate. "You had so little during dinner. When you have had your fill, I am taking you back to my bed."

If you enjoyed this, please consider commenting/reblogging it!

tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese @wandererindreams

15 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

Text

Snippet from new Ainur pairing

Tulkas had been standing beside the fireplace when she walked into the hall. “Come for more, my lady?"

"I have come to explain." Meássë straightened her spine and looked Tulkas in the eye. She was not going to tell him how his kiss preyed on her mind. "My kiss was just a means of distraction. Nothing more. Your kiss... it... it meant nothing to me."

Tulkas, pretending to be wounded, pouted before giving his favorite student a measured look. "Nothing, you say. And yet, whenever we dine together, whenever we train, whenever I am just near you, you are different. Quieter. More likely to listen, and rein in your temper. I have not seen that in you when you are with anyone else. Not even your twin."

This is a continution of this ficlet. Posting date will be some time next week

#tulkas #Meássë #tulkas x meássë #tulkas imagine #Meássë imagine #the silm #the silm imagine #Medieval! Ainur #the ainur #The valar #Tulkas smut #meássë smut

7 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

Text

Image from Unsplash

Prompt 17 of the kiss prompt list: to distract.

Pairing: Meássë x Tulkas

Themes: Minor violence | Blood | Kissing | Medieval! Ainur

Warnings: Same as above.

Summary: Training with Tulkas and trying to get the upper hand doesn't go according to plan for Meássë

Minors DNI | 18+ | Rules and tag form here.

Meássë spat and rubbed the back of her hand over the blood trickling from her lower lip. Her cheek was already bruised and sore after she was struck square in the face.

Tulkas did not go easy, as was expected of him. He loomed over her, practice staff in hand.

"Your temper clouds your judgment," he observed, tightening his grip around his weapon. "Come now, surely you can do better than this."

Her temper. Meássë knew all about her temper. It was the one thing she had in common with her twin, that and their coppery hair. She shook her head and rose, blunted tourney sword and shield in hand, glancing at her lord while she did so. Tulkas had taken his place, his skin gilded with the early morning sunlight. A magnificent specimen was what he was, all tall and proud and fierce with his spun gold hair and amber eyes. And he had knocked her onto the dirt, armed with nothing more than a wooden stick and armored in nothing more than his training leathers and boiled leather tunic. An embarrassment, was what it was. There would be no living with Makar after this, she was certain of it.

Tulkas harumphed. "Again," he ordered, and readied himself.

Meássë charged at him, hacking and slashing, swiftly raising her shield to block his blows. Tulkas, as always, toyed with her, deftly ducking and diving with every strike and charge. He was gaining the upper hand again, knocking her sword out of her hand while he did so. All Meássë had left was her shield now. It angered her to be bested a second time. It was not going to do. She had to do something. Anything to throw him off and give her the time she needed to retrieve her sword.

A distraction, she thought. I need to distract him. But how? How?

Her eyes suddenly went wide. She knew what she had to do. She feinted to the side, and when Tulkas lunged at her, she deftly deflected his blow, grabbed his tunic with her free hand, and dragged him in for a kiss. It was quick and clumsy and desperate, but it worked. Tulkas drew back, shocked by what she had done. Something flared in his eyes. Meássë smirked, thinking she had won, but her victory was short-lived. Her lord grabbed her this time and pulled her in for a kiss. Meássë's protest died in her throat when Tulkas kissed her with a fury that stunned her silence. Her body reacted with lust so strong it made her head spin.

"Hardly the actions of a knight," Tulkas muttered as he released her, his voice suddenly thick and hoarse. "And I expect better on the morrow. But," he turned sharply on his heel and walked away, leaving her slack-jawed and speechless. "If you desire more than just a kiss, my lady, you know where to find me."

Tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese @wandererindreams

#Meássë #Tulkas #Tulkas x Meássë #Meássë imagine #tulkas imagine #The silm #the silmarilion #the silm imagine #prompts #the valar #The ainur #the maiar #Medieval! Ainur #fanfiction #writeblr #💫a world of whimsy writes

9 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

Text

Lord and Master

Pairing: Manwë x Fem. Reader (Elf |Third Person POV)

Themes: Medieval! Ainur | Angst | Dark

Wordcount : 3.4K words

Summary: Manwë finally agrees to marry, but is angry because his ability to control his life is being stripped from him. Finally, on his wedding night, the chance to take back some of that control presents itself to him.

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+

Rules and tag form here.

A/n: This is my first foray into dark/dub-con, so I apologize if there are any mess-ups in the story.

The wedding passed like an ugly dream. Manwë did all that was required of him, biting the inside of his cheek the entire time.

When word of his trysts with Námo made its way into the light, ladies refused him one by one. Varda was the first to rescind her offer of marriage. She had declared she did not think highly of a prince who threw the one he loved to the dirt and walked away like it all meant nothing to him. And where she went, the rest followed: Vána and Yavanna agreed with their lady’s choice, as did Arien and Ilmarë. Even the dutiful ones like Uinen, Lëa, and Melian refused the prince’s proposal with a courteous chorus of "Thank you kindly, your grace," followed by "But no." Nienna would never accept a proposal, and Meássë simply laughed in the messenger’s face when he showed her the king's letter. The king had purpled and raged for days when he heard.

Manwë turned to his bride, a wave of deep-seated anger and resentment surging through his veins. Lady y/n was not his choice for a wife. After Meássë refused, Eru finally had to stoop so low as to ask a minor lordling for his daughter’s hand in marriage. That stung as well.

He glanced at his wife again. She was well-bred and well-mannered, so the others said. Y/n loved singing, sewing, and reading, but she was not what the crown prince wanted in a companion. She was too quiet and docile. She certainly was not Námo, yet he must wed her and secure the line of succession. That was his father’s order and the council's.

"Wed her, bed her, and put a child in her," the king commanded once the offer of marriage had been accepted. "You are capable of this, yes?”

Manwë had clenched his fists so hard they turned white at the knuckles. "You command I wed someone I do not desire," he spat, "Yet you heartily agree to your Lord Commander's wedding and bedding a lowly serving girl. How do you justify it, your grace?"

His father’s icy glare pinned him to the chair he sat in. It made Manwë feel so small. "Our Lord Commander is not my son. He will never wear the crown. And Eönwë commands the near-fanatical loyalty of our army. He even saved your life once. Do you not remember? How he fought your brother and bled in your name?"

Manwë flinched when reminded. "Father...”

"Keeping a warrior like our Lord Commander happy is in this realm's best interests." Eru interrupted him and picked up his quill and a piece of parchment. The sight made Manwë feel like he was in a ship already listing dangerously to one side. "And yours. That is how I justify it. But if you wish to refuse this marriage," Eru said while dipping the quill in new ink. "You need only say the word, and I will marry the lady instead.”

And if I refuse, Valinor will learn my lord father has yet another son who flees his duty, the prince thought bitterly. Oh yes, I can hear it now. Poor king Eru, plagued with selfish, disobedient sons who care for nothing but themselves.

Manwë did not want others to see him as no better than Melkor, but he wished for the days when his brother was heir and life was a carefree dream, where he was master of his destiny and lived how he pleased. Now, with every word and every stroke of his father's quill, he felt his sense of control being stripped from him, sliver by painful sliver. Each day he felt a little smaller and a little weaker. He started to feel more like a boy desperate for approval and nothing like the man he wanted to be.

Forever bowing my head to the will of someone else. Father, the council, the crown. Is that what I am? Someone who readily acquiesces? Someone helpless and weak?

Someone coughed. It was the priest. The time had come to exchange vows. The bride and groom turned to face each other, one with eyes full of hope and the other wishing to see nothing before them.

"One heart," they repeated in unison, "One soul, One flesh. Bound in word, body, and spirit, from this day until the end of all days."

Y/n looked at her new husband through her veil, thinking how comely he looked in his rich black velvet doublet, and his silver hair falling down to his shoulders in beautiful waves. She hoped to find blushing cheeks, bright eyes, and a shy smile. All she found was darkness in his deep blue eyes and anger in his clenched jaws. It was a warning, a sign of dark things that may come to pass. There was great danger here, but she shrugged the growing sense of foreboding away and still gave him her hand, shivering when he slipped a thin gold band onto her finger. There was nothing else she could do. The contract had been signed, and the vows had been said. For good or ill, she was his now, and her duty as a wife was to obey her husband. That was what she was taught.

"With this ring," Manwë declared to all present, his words clearly forced. "I pledge my love!"

His bride did the same. Y/n’s words were sweeter, and filled with tender hope. Her lord father came forward and lifted her veil. Manwë ground his teeth and did his duty, leaning in and kissing her chastely before swiftly pulling away. He accepted the necklace his father presented him in a beautifully carved box and draped it around his bride's throat. Y/n was overcome with the shivers. Her new jewels felt like a noose. She took deep breaths to compose herself and clung to the hope that the prince was as kind and courteous as the songs said he was and that love would bloom between them over time.

"What the Gods have brought together," came the priest's cry, "let no one tear asunder!"

The crowd clapped and cheered in approval when the crown prince and princess turned to face them. Manwë dutifully offered his arm, but y/n felt his stiffness as they walked down the aisle together. The chapel was aglow with the light of a thousand candles. A riot of color bled from the stained glass windows onto the floor. Those standing in the upper walkways threw rose petals onto the couple while they walked beneath them. Swirls of red and white rained down on y/n and Manwë even as the doors to the outside world opened. Crowds gathered outside Taniquetil’s great chapel cheered even louder than those inside. Y/n raised her arm and waved to them, thinking her heart would burst with joy. She turned to face her husband, her joy soon wilting like a flower under the scorching heat of the sun. When Manwë turned to her, his eyes filled with something akin to hate.

“Come, wife," he said stiffly. "It is time we took ourselves to the feast."

An hour later, they were walking into the great hall for the feast. Y/n tried to talk with her husband during the carriage ride to Ilmarin to engage his attention. Manwë would look at her with little interest before turning away. His cool indifference stung, but y/n chose to be patient. She thought he was grieving the loss of his first love. This will pass soon enough, she thought. Someday she would be rewarded. She was certain of it.

The feast was a splendid affair. Eru had spared no expense. Minstrels strolled between tables, singing and fluting and strumming lyres. Fire dancers walked on stilts, juggling flaming batons in their hands. Guests dined on thick mushroom soup and salads of beans, onions, spinach, and beets. There was roasted boar and roasted quail and squab, and pears soaked in red wine. There were flagons of mead and flagons of ale, glass pitchers of iced summer wine, and the finest hippocras money could buy. Many broke into loud applause when servants walked into the hall carrying a great swan pie between them. The dish was reserved only for royalty. On this day, it would be served to everyone. Seated at the high table on an ornate chair under a richly embroidered canopy, y/n had little appetite for her food, fine as it all was. Her stomach would tie itself into unpleasant knots whenever she glanced at her husband.

Manwë's mood had darkened even more. Irmo of House Blackgrave was seated with the other high lords and ladies, but Námo was nowhere to be seen. He had been ill since Manwë sent him away. A common illness, so the messenger said, one that would go away under the tender care of his sister. The prince knew differently. Námo was sick because of him.

It should be me tending to him, and not Nienna.

He could not tend to Námo now. The chance to do so disappeared when Manwë put his name on parchment and agreed to take y/n for a wife. With each stroke and flourish of the quill, he felt his sense of control slip away even more, making him feel helpless and angry.

Weak. Helpless. Forever bowing to the will of others. This cannot continue.

He heard gentle laughter. It was the Lord Commander's wife. She was wide-eyed while she watched a troupe of tumblers perform incredibly daring feats. Her doting husband kept her in his lap, not caring a whit for what other people thought. Eönwë was content to feed her morsels from his own plate before stealing unexpected kisses, his arm tightening around her waist in a protective gesture when she leaned in and cupped his face. He would listen indulgently whenever she said something, beaming like a man who knew his love was well returned. The sight filled Manwë with despair. He wished to hold Námo the same way, feed him the same way, and drown in his laughter. He turned to face his wife. She was playing with her food. Anger seared through his veins again.

"Does the meal not please you?" he asked in rough, clipped tones.

Y/n was startled. It was the first time the prince had asked anything of her since their first meeting half a year ago.

"It is excellent, your highness," she replied meekly. "But I fear my appetite cannot do it justice."

Your highness. The way she said it, all soft and submissive. Manwë gave her a measured look.

Small. Meek. And bound by oath to obey me. The thoughts came swiftly and unbidden. Manwë ignored such thoughts and looked away just as a herald called the guests to dance. His wife placed her hand over his.

"Shall we dance, your highness?" she asked hopefully.

Manwë’s mouth twisting into an ugly sneer was all the answer y/n needed. He did not want to dance, eat, or join in the merrymaking. He wanted this night over and done with.

There is only one thing left to do, he decided, and rose. The music slowly died when he stood to his full height. Everyone's attention turned to him.

"I confess, my lords and ladies, as much as I would love to dance," he declared with a forced smile, "I have more... pressing matters to tend to with my lady wife. Come, my lady. It is time we did our duty."

The others laughed. Y/n forced herself to smile. When her husband offered his arm, she rose and took it, turning a deaf ear to the ribald jests shouted their way. She let Manwë lead her through lofty halls and cool corridors, all while her stomach was a roil.

She had been prepared for her bedding, but the way Manwë looked at her, his eyes ablaze with cold fury, frightened her. She looked straight ahead, clinging to the hope that her fears were unfounded and the prince would surprise her with tender words and gentle embraces.

That was not to be. When the couple entered an airy bedchamber and the doors closed behind them, Manwë pulled away from her. He walked over to a side table and helped himself to a cup of wine.

Manwë studied her critically. Quiet. Dutiful. Perhaps this can work.

"You must now obey me in all things, yes?"

“I am your wife, your highness. I must obey."

Small. Meek. Bound by oath to obey me. This time, he did not push the thought away. Y/n was bound by oath to obey him. Whatever he asked of her, she had to do it without protest. The knowledge of it was too much for him to resist.

It is time I regained some control over my life. I will not bow my head to yet another.

"Undress yourself," Manwë commanded. He walked to the bed, his new boots clicking over the stone floor.

Y/n blushed furiously. She dreamed of her husband undressing her, giggling while he fumbled with the clasps and lacings in her dress. She did not expect him to order her to undress herself in front of him.

"Undress yourself," Manwë urged, his words like honey. "Come now. You are a true and obedient wife, yes?"

Y/n wrung her hands. "I... I wish to be, your highness."

Manwë lifted his cup and drank deeply, draining it to the last drop. "Then prove to me you are a true and obedient wife. Undress."

Y/n flushed. She was his wife. She pledged herself to him. Swore to obey him in all things. And obey him she did. She first undid her braids, removing the pins and clips, her fingers fumbling at her hair like they were all broken thumbs. Manwë was content to watch. Seeing her hair fall free in loose strands did something to him. Watching her comply with his command did something to him. Whatever it was, he soon grew drunk on it.

"You are still dressed, my lady," he observed. "Your gown… it is beautiful to be sure, but it is too much. Unburden yourself. But leave the necklace; I like it."

Y/n flushed again. This time in humiliation. "Your highness, I... should I be doing this?"

"Yes, sweet wife," Manwë replied, enjoying himself thoroughly. "It is only proper that you do so."

His wife managed somehow, her cheeks aflame the entire time. Her heavy gown and sash slowly slipped off her shoulders and pooled around her feet. Her stays and slip followed. When she finally stepped out of the wisps that passed for smallclothes, Manwë put his cup on the ground and stood up, surprised to find himself already hard.

There were gooseprickles all over y/n's exposed skin. Her eyes were fixed on the floor. Manwë circled her once, then twice, like a predator circling his prey. He let his hand glide up her spine and play with her hair. She shivered when he palmed the soft expanse of her breasts. Manwë felt her tremble. He liked it. It made him feel powerful, for the first time in many moons.

"Undress me," Manwë ordered, slipping out of his boots.

Y/n kept her eyes on the clasps on his tunic. She fumbled again, her fingers turning back into broken thumbs. Manwë smirked and kept still.

Her hands were soft and warm when they brushed against his flesh. She was unsure of herself and hesitant, but she did her work dutifully and quickly. Once freed of his doublet and undershirt, Manwë returned to the bed and stood by the edge.

"Come, wife," he said, holding out his hand. "Come here."

His wife took one hesitant step after another, uncertain of what he wanted. Y/n had not been taught much concerning matters of the flesh. Her mother had told her to expect certain things, like discomfort and pain, but she also said such things would go away and the rest would be nothing but magic. Y/n studied her husband. There was hunger in his eyes, and flashes of something far more sinister. She feared there would be no magic this night. Not for her at any rate.

"Closer," Manwë cooed. "Closer. Good. Now. On your knees."

Y/n looked at him, shocked. "Your highness... I... I do not understand."

Manwë grinned wolfishly. "Get on your knees and undo my belt. Go on. You would do it if you really wanted to be a dutiful wife, yes?"

Y/n licked her lips. Of course, she wanted to be a dutiful wife. From the first moment she saw Manwë all she had ever wanted was to be a good wife and earn his love. She nodded and sank to her knees, grateful for the rug beneath her. She undid the clasp of his belt, then the drawstrings on his breeches. Her cheeks heated when Manwë tugged them down just enough to free his cock.

"Open your mouth," he said, and caressed her cheek. He ran his thumb across her lips, imagining what they would look like, swollen and glistening with the remnants of his spend. "Go on."

Y/n looked up at him, thinking she had heard wrong. Manwë caressed her cheek again, almost in affection. "Open your mouth. You do not want to disappoint me, do you?"

"No," she sputtered. It was a strange feeling, having his cock slip past her parted lips and sink further and further into her mouth. She felt him, thick and salty and heavy on her tongue. Y/n glanced up at him, surprised to find his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

"Loosen your jaw," he hissed, and wrapped his hands around her hair, pulling it out of the way. "There. Like that."

Manwë's mind soon grew hazy with bliss. Gods, her mouth feels so good. His grunts grew louder and louder. There was nothing else—no whispered endearments—that would soothe his wife and inflame her passions. Manwë did not care. He simply wanted to regain some control. And it felt so good, to take back what control he had over his life.

I am in control.

Y/n did not know what else to do. She let him thrust into her mouth, her eyes stinging with confused tears. Manwë wiped the tear away with his thumb and brought it to his lips, as if to taste. He shivered when he tasted the saltiness of her tear on the tip of his tongue, and shivered when he felt the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her sinful lips. He wanted to kiss those lips while he claimed her maidenhead, but not now. He was so close that he could already feel a tightness in his belly. He brushed his hands over her hair and groaned when her lips tightened around his cock. Just a little longer. He needed to hold on for a little longer. And that was all he had. The world went still. Manwë let out a deep moan while his body splintered and shook with ecstasy. Y/n could do nothing but grip his thighs while the warmth of his spend filled her mouth.

Manwë panted and drew back, satisfied for now. "Swallow," he insisted, not moving another inch until y/n had swallowed every last drop. He stood back and admired the sight of his wife on her knees before him, her lips glistening and swollen just like he hoped they would be. That sense of feeling powerful returned, this time stronger than before.

I am in control.

Manwë grabbed that feeling with eager hands, not wanting to let go of it.

I am lord and master.

He finally walked away, setting himself to rights and picking up the rest of his clothes as he did so. "I will sleep in here," he said, opening the door to a smaller bedroom. "Good night."

Y/n rose and turned to face her own bed. Her knees were sore, and her jaws hurt. She thought there would be more to this night. "But your highness, this is our wedding night. Should we be…"

"Do not fret," Manwë yawned contentedly. An hour or two of rest was needed, and then he would consummate their marriage. "I will claim your maidenhead and consummate this marriage. But it will be at a time of my choosing. Not yours. Never yours. Am I understood?"

Y/n opened her mouth in reply. She thought she deserved to have some say on how this night went. Manwë leaned against the door, his arms crossed, and his eyes darkening again. It frightened her, made her whisper, "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Good," Manwë muttered. "Never forget what I am, wife. Your lord and master, nothing less than that."

Y/n tried to blink back her tears when he slammed the door behind him. Her hopes slowly crumbled like brittle clay. There would be no love. No tenderness. Not with him, not after tonight. Manwë made it plain with his few words that she should not expect more from him. Suddenly more tired than ever, she crawled into bed and slipped beneath a soft pelt, waiting for him to come for her again.

The thought made her blood run cold.

tags: @cilil

35 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 11 months

Text

And here it is! The list of noble houses for my Medieval! Ainur fics! I had to put some of the valar into the same houses (ex. Vána and Yavanna with Varda), but I hope this will serve. The first medieval themed fic should be up by next week.

House Ilúvatar Coat of arms: A green and gold flame upon a black field Seat: Ilmarin Region: Taniquetil Head: King Eru Ilúvatar I Heirs: Prince Melkor (Formerly) | Prince Manwë (current) Other members of the household: Eönwë |Urwendi | Ilinsor | Nornorë House Motto: To serve

House Starfield Coat of arms: A five petal silver rose within a circle of seven stars, upon a midnight blue field Seat: Starfall Region: Greengrove Members: Varda | Yavanna | Vána Other household members of note: Aiwendil | Arien | Ilmarë House Motto: Light and life

House Archer Coat of arms: A mounted archer on a dark green field Seat: High Tree Hall Region: Hunter’s Pass Members: Oromë | Nessa Other household members of note: Tilion | Alatar | Palando House Motto: Our aim is true

House Shield Coat of arms: A rampant brown bear on checkered silver and gold Seat: Stonehearth Region: Bear Wood Members: Tulkas Other household members of note: Lúsion | Makar | Meássë House Motto: Without fear

House Silverwing Coat of arms: A silver nightingale upon a white field Seat: Cedar Hall Region: Cedar Lake Members: Vairë| Estë Other household members of note: Melian | Lëa | Nielíqui House Motto: Patience and comfort

House Blackgrave Coat of arms: A set of silver scales with a raven perched on top of it against a white field. Seat: Blackgrave Region: The Haunted Pass Members Nienna | Irmo | Námo Other household members of note: Olórin | Silmo House Motto: With fair judgement and mercy

House Day Coat of arms: A black and silver hourglass on a pale blue field Seat: The Halls of Change Region: The island of Tol Eressëa Members: Aluin Other household members of note: Danuin | Ranuin | Fanuin House Motto: As ceaseless as time

House Alqualondë Coat of arms: A white swan ship upon a blue-green field Seat: Misty Harbor Region: Alqualondë Members Ulmo Other household members of note: Ossë | Uinen | Salmar | Ómar House Motto: By the strength of the sea

House Mahal Coat of arms: An anvil and hammer against a golden field Seat: Golden Forge Region: Almaren Members: Aulë Other household members of note: Curumo | Velindo House Motto: Ever industrious

House Ironwrath Coat of arms: Two crossed black war hammers upon a crimson field Seat: Angband Region: The Iron Mountains Members: Melkor Other household members of note: Mairon | Gothmog | Tevildo | Thuringwethil House Motto: A servant to no one

tags: @cilil @edensrose @floraroselaughter @asianbutnotjapanese @fictionfordays

#Medieval! Ainur #Medieval AU #the ainur #the valar #the maiar #the silm #the silmarillion #the silm au #the ainur au #noble houses of valinor #💫whimsy's shenanigans

31 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 8 months

Text

For this event, I have listed my chosen pairings for each day. Each story will be linked after it has been posted for @silmsmutweek. A summary is included for each fic. I have created a tag form just for this. Please note blogs without an indicated age will not be tagged for any of these stories.

Minors DNI | 18+. These fics will include triggering themes like incest and dub-con. You are responsible for the media you consume.

A/n: My beginning to write on the topic of incest does not mean I will be taking requests for such pairings for the foreseeable future.

Please click "keep reading" to see the list of days and pairings and themes.

Day 1 : Melkor x Gothmog (Monsterfucking, masturbation) - The lord of Angband pleasures himself while fantasizing about his Captain and Lord of the Balrogs.

Day 2 : Finwë x Indis (Canon relationships, tender sex, first time, inexperienced partner) - Finwë teaches Indis how to give and receive pleasure during their first time alone as husband and wife.

Day 3 : Makar x Meássë (Magical and supernatural elements, incestuous relationship) - The twins defy laws and accepted convention after finding a way that would allow them to be intimate with each other without the others finding out.

Day 4 : Manwë x Eönwë x Ilmarë (Threesome) - The Elder King and his herald invite Ilmarë to join them in bed after they catch her watching them during the act.

Day 5 : Tevildo(non-bestial form) x Fem. reader (Dub-con, predator/prey) - Tevildo promises freedom to a thrall if they escape. If they do not, they must do whatever he asks of them.

Day 6: Celegorm x Oromë (Unsual locations, public sex, sex in a forest) - Celegorm struggles to confess his feelings for Oromë. Does Oromë feel the same?

Day 7 : Uinen x Varda (Femslash, Alternate Universe: Medieval) Varda and Uinen make the most of a stormy night while traveling by sea.

#silmsmutweek #silmsmutweek 2023 #Melkor #Gothmog #Finwë #Indis #Makar #Meássë #Manwë #eönwë #ilmarë #Tevildo #Celegorm #Oromë #Uinen #Varda

17 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

Text

Upcoming posts for this week!

Reader insert requests: Mairon x Fem. Reader (smut), 25th July

Plot bunnies scheduled for release:

Dark! Nuada x Fem. Reader (Smut) 26th July

Medieval! Layout of Stonehearth, home of Lord Tulkas and House Shield, together with the heraldic device, 27th July

Tulkas x Meássë (smut), 28th July

Part 2 of "A Better Future", a Thranduil x Fem. Reader fic (angst), 29th July

Part 6 of "Flesh and Blood," a Aemon the Dragonknight x Fem. Reader fic (Soft / Some mild smut), 30th July 2023.

Please be mindful of warnings and themes at the beginning of each post.

Requests closed.

#Updates #thranduil x reader #Mairon x reader #tulkas x meássë #nuada x reader

15 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 6 months

Text

What sort of weapons, armor and powers they may possess in a Medieval! AU

A/n: In the Medieval! AU, Nornorë and Ilinsor are demi-god siblings, and both have wings.

Warnings: Armor | Weapons of various kinds | Mentions of injury and fighting and death

Minors DNI | You are responsible for the media you consume.

⚔ Nornorë: His armor is a cuirass and faulds made especially for him. The back plate comes in three separate pieces and has holes that allow room for his wings. It is light in weight, allowing him to twist and move with greater ease without impeding his speed. His armor is enameled in silver with white lace-like scroll work all over it. His helm is of the same color, and has falcon wings on either side, wrought in silver.

Nornorë’s weapon of choice is a long sword named “Silence” as it does not make a sound even when it strikes flesh and armor. Like all warriors who are proven to be loyal to the realm, his sword has been dipped in the dews of the Sacred Trees of Greengrove. Besides “Silence”, Nornorë carries a shield that bears the green and gold flames of the royal House of Ilúvatar.

⚔ Lúsion: His armor consists chiefly of boiled leather and a dull gold enameled cuirass decorated with leaf-like scroll work and bears. He has a distinctive helm that has been crafted to look like a growling bear’s head. His shield is enameled in dull gold as well, and it too has a growling bear’s head engraved in the center.

As a warrior who is more brawler than swordsman, Lúsion is a firm believer in his own strength and his own fists when it comes to fighting. However, he does carry a pair of brass knuckles and a heavy, spiked ball flail called the "Mangler,” which he uses with deadly accuracy when necessary.

⚔ Makar: Another warrior who is more brawler than swordsman, Makar prefers his fists over all else. His armor is heavy steel plate enameled in rich crimson, without device or ornamentation. His helm is of crimson enamel as well, and his black shield bears the bloody hand of House Tarkil.

As mentioned above, Makar prefers his fists to weapons. However, he still has a weapon of choice, a spiked billhook with a hammer on one end that he brings down on his opponents face if he manages to unhorse them.

⚔ Meássë: Her choice of weapons and armor can be found in this Medieval! Bio I did for her.

⚔ Nielíquie: She prefers light mail, and she bears no weapons. Her skills lie in the realm of magic, as she has mastery over flora and fauna. Nielíquie can communicate with animals, use them to spy on enemies, and even manipulate trees and vines and grass to aide her during battle.

⚔ Ilinsor: Like Nornorë, Ilinsor too requires a light-weight cuirass with a back plate that comes in three separate pieces and with holes that allow room for his wings. And like Nornorë, Ilinsor’s armor is enameled in silver, but with dull blue scrollwork etched to look like gusts of wind.

Ilinsor does not care for full swords, as he prefers finely forged stilettos that he keeps hidden in his armor. This allows him to carry out surprise attacks and wound his opponents by sticking the blades through the little gaps in their armor. His helm has no ornamentation. As the half-mortal children of a wind god, both he and his brother Nornorë possess limited mastery over wind, and will use this when necessary to throw off opponents.

⚔ Tevildo: A powerful shape-shifter, Tevildo, when in non-bestial form, dons armor of light steel plate enameled in black, with gold inlaid on the greaves and gauntlets. His long sword, “Darkheart”, is forged out of a rare black steel found only in the Iron Mountains, and like his armor, it too is inlayed with gold.

Tevildo’s armor is enchanted with a spell, allowing it to change with him when he takes on his bestial form. Thus, he can change shape any time he wishes and not inconvenience himself by having to dispose of his armor.

⚔ Salmar and Ómar (Amillo): The brothers prefer light mail hauberks and padded under-tunics to heavy-plated armor, with blue-green silk over-tunics that bear the white swan ship sigil of House Alqualondë.

Their weapons of choice are both the longbow and the crossbow. But that is not all. The siblings have other gifts that they use as weapons when necessary. For Ómar, it is his voice. It is enchanted, and when he chooses to do so, he can so sweetly, it places all those around him in a trance-like state. For his brother, it is an enchanted harp. Because of these gifts, they often aid others by disguising themselves as minstrels and enchanting their enemies into trances during feasts, battles, etc.

⚔ Silmo: An archer without peer, Silmo is one of only a handful of archers to bear a silver-gold longbow made from the branches of the Sacred Trees of Greengrove. A thin, padded-under tunic, light mail, and silks bearing the colors of House Blackgrave make up his armor.

He can sense the presence of souls as well, and would communicate with them to gain information about nearby enemy movements.

⚔ Aluin: The lord of time has no need for armor, preferring to garb himself in silks instead. If he ever marched to war, he could change time itself, slowing it down to aid his own warriors, or change time for a particular enemy instead, making them either so old or young and weak that they could no longer fight.

⚔ Fanuin, Ranuin, and Danuin: Much like their father, the siblings have no real need for armor. However, they wear them all the same, and all are lightweight cuirasses.

Danuin’s armor is enchanted to change color based on the time of day. During daylight hours, his armor would turn golden and yellow, with suns etched all over. At night, it turns black and blue, with a silver crescent moon in the center.

Ranuin’s armor changes color according to the season. Various shades of green with swaying trees etched into the steel during spring. Golden with a rotating sun during summer. Crimson during autumn, with leaves falling due to the wind. White with silver snowflakes that drift during winter.

Fanuin’s armor is always white, with silver lace-like scroll swirling clockwise.

Each sibling could use their mastery in certain aspects of time to their advantage: They can make the day unbearably hot, the nights intolerably cold. They could stop spring rains, ruin autumn harvests, and even blight enemy land with harsh winters. They could even age their enemies, but they are nowhere as skilled as their father. Due to these powers, they and their father, more often than not, choose the path of neutrality in order to prevent too much harm being caused to the land and the fabric of time itself.

⚔ Telimektar: His plated armor is enameled in silver with gold inlay on his gauntlets. There is no decoration on his armor save for a golden rampant bear in the center of his chest plate to represent his House.

Telimektar prefers weapons over fighting in hand-to-hand combat. He carries a flanged mace and a silver-inlay sword named “Heartseeker”, and he serves as a mounted lancer, riding his horse into battle at any given opportunity.

Tags: @asianbutnotjapanese @cilil

#bookoflosttalesmonth #the valar #the ainur #medieval #medieval! au #medieval! ainur #the book of lost tales

5 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 8 months

Text

Get to know: Medieval! Tulkas

Warnings: Mentions of illness/death/weapons use

⚔Early life and family: Tulkas was born to Lady and Lord Shield much later in their lives, when they had all but given up hopes for a child. As a baby, he was born large and robust, and his lady mother struggled to give him birth. Tulkas had cried so loudly that the midwife had gone on to declare, "A warrior comes!"

Tulkas would go on to live up to her prediction. Despite being given an education befitting his station as his mother’s heir, Tulkas preferred sparring and jousting and war to academics. Nonetheless, he paid some attention to other areas of study given his future position, but was often considered a trial for his tutors given his mischievous nature.

Due to being an only child, his mother sent him to nearby House Archer to live with the family as their ward, and to serve as a cupbearer for Lord Archer. Tulkas soon grew close to the Archer children, Oromë and his sister Nessa, and the trio were seen as thick as thieves.

⚔Appearance and Personality: Tulkas inherited the impressive height both of his parents were known for. By the time he stopped growing, Tulkas towered over everyone at seven feet tall. He had the broad shoulders and powerful body from his father’s side of the family. From his mother’s side, he inherited their famous spun gold hair, ruddy skin, and amber eyes. Tulkas often preferred robes of well-cut wools and leathers to silks and velvet. A handsome man who could charm even the iciest of lords and ladies into surrendering their charms, Tulkas was never short of companionship.

Like his mother, Tulkas was slow to anger. And like his father, he was slow to forgive, never forgetting those who insulted his honor or harmed those he cared about.

He is generous as well, often treating guests with an open hand, and he is known for always setting a tasty table. He enjoys sparring and jousting, and converted an abandoned building within Stonehearth into an impressive stadium with built-in seating and a field large enough to host races, archery contests, wrestling, and boxing. Wagers from these contests have been known to set records, and contests have attracted competitors from all over Valinor.

⚔Weapons and armor: Tulkas will wear only padded leather when sparring. For jousting or actual war, he will wear heavily plated armor chased in silver and gold, the colors of his house. The crest of his helm bears a rearing bear chased in yellow gold.

While Tulkas prefers hand-to-hand combat, he is skilled in the use of the sword, spear, lance, and morning star. He wields the family longsword, "Golden-Tooth."

⚔Relationships: Tulkas was close to his parents, often confiding in them and seeking their counsel. Tulkas grieved deeply after a great plague spread through Valinor and claimed his mother and father. He would have shut himself off from the rest of Valinorian society had it not been for his friends.

Later, he would take in the Tarkil twins after they lost their family and give them positions within his household guard. Tulkas saw great potential in both, but paid closer attention to Lady Meássë. Theirs was a student-mentor relationship that slowly morphed into something else over time. Tulkas’ relationship with Makar was nowhere near as harmonious. The two often quarreled, with Tulkas thinking Makar was too impulsive and unpredictable with his fists. He also did not care for Makar’s harsh attitude towards elves and kept him well in hand.

Tulkas once had a friendship with the former Crown Prince, Melkor. They often sparred and jousted together, and even helped each other during melees. There were even rumors that went so far as to suggest both he and the Crown Prince had been lovers. Neither refuted nor accepted these claims, but Tulkas never forgave Melkor after he left to form his own kingdom, and word of his many abuses reached Valinor. The lord of House Shield joined those who opposed Melkor’s request for pardon and a chance for negotiations, and he earned the former Crown Prince’s enmity because of it.

His friendship with the Archer siblings, on the other hand, continued to stay strong. They would all go hunting and camping whenever the opportunity presented itself, and they would invite each other for feasts.

⚔Other: Tulkas is one of only a few Valinorian nobles to have tattoos. These include the sigil of his House, intricate scrollwork, flowers, birds and animals, all depicted in gold and black ink.

tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese @edensrose @wandererindreams

#Tulkas week #tulkas imagine #tulkas #medieval! au #medieval! tulkas #medieval! ainur #the silm #the silm imagine

4 notes · View notes