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#silmarillion imagine
doodle-pops · 3 days
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Dating Galdor Would Include...
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𑁍 First of all, I don’t think or believe that there will ever be a problem in dating this soft elf. He’s not a people pleaser, but he does his best to put you first and ensure that all your needs and wants are met.
𑁍 He adores it when you show interest in his work which leads to him grabbing you by the hand and leading you to his garden to show you all about his plants and flowers, giving you a private tour.
𑁍 One of the best parts about dating Galdor is that you receive lots of plants he spent years nurturing before gifting them to you. You will be taught all the best ways to care for agriculture and learn how to make the best teas. If you wish to become a healer, you’re also in the right place.
𑁍 He is an excellent cook, so do expect to receive hand-cooked meals for your lunch and dinner dates, even for breakfast. There are times he’d invite you over to cook with him, it’s okay if you don’t know how to cook, he’d teach you with a kind smile on his face, patiently.
𑁍 All your walks are done in the gardens as well as picnics. He has probably built a stream/pool in his private gardens so that you two can go for an impromptu dip when the day is hot.
𑁍 He enjoys taking you to balls so he can dance with you the entire night. He won’t even let anyone else have a chance to dance with you—it’s not done out of jealousy—it’s just that he loves the feeling he gets when he’s holding you in his arms.
𑁍 He isn’t strict on rules and society like a few other people, so he’s willing to be silly and wild with you without worrying about what others will say. In his thoughts “If it makes you happy, it makes him happy”.
𑁍 He’s a funny elf, not on the same level as Glorfindel or Egalmoth, but he’s ever funny. He loves to make you laugh when the moment calls for it, he does behave when it’s serious events and the moment doesn’t call for it though.
𑁍 Cuddling is a must for him, he enjoys it more than you’ll even believe. Because he isn’t that energetic, it’s easy to catch him anytime for a cuddling session. He’s always down for being wrapped up in your arms. Most of the time, 9 out of 10, he has fallen asleep to you petting his hair.
𑁍 His kisses are to die for because you had never pinned him as the type to be passionate about them. At first, he’ll cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing them gently before one hand snakes downwards to snake around your waist and the other cups your nape. Gingerly he’ll tilt your head upwards and tease you with the brush of his lips against yours before swooping in for a breathtaking kiss. I mean it. He will take your breath away.
𑁍 Not someone overly stylish but does ensure that he is well dressed, he loves it when you braid his hair for him or sometimes pick out his attire. He doesn’t complain if the braids are mismatched or uneven, it’s the thoughts that count, and he’ll proudly wear them to court meetings. If anyone mentions them, he’d just look at them questioningly and carry about his day.
𑁍 That was perhaps the first time anyone had ever seen him displeased in a long time and for you, he’s very protective of you. He doesn’t appreciate when people bad-mouth you either to your face or behind, he doesn’t tolerate it.
𑁍 He does go about dealing with the situation calmly, too calmly, which is what scares people. He just wants to love and protect and keep you safe at all times and cherish you.
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cambion-companion · 1 year
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Hugging the Elves (blorbos)
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Elrond ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Elrond is a healer, of both body and heart. His home of Rivendell is where those blessed enough to gain entry find refuge for their spirit. Elrond would hug like a father comforting his child, he would wrap you into a secure embrace. He smells like familiar spices and fresh warm cloth as you bury your head against his shoulder. The long sleeves of his robes wrap around your body and offer solace under their weight. He will smile down at you gently, a fond crinkling around his eyes full of wisdom and starlight.
Glorfindel
Sunshine incarnate, Glorfindel's hugs are enthusiastic and don't be surprised if he lifts you into his arms and twirls you around once or twice, especially if he has been on errantry and not seen you for a while. His long golden hair would get in both your faces and he would laugh, bell-like, as he gently brushes it away. He smells of a fresh summer breeze carrying the light scents of flowers and evergreen trees as you press your cheek to his chest. I also see him as being fond of taking your face in his hands, enjoying looking into your eyes and reading your emotions there. When you are in need of comfort be assured Glorfindel will always be ready to offer you a warm embrace as you bask in his glowing presence. His very touch is enough to chase away any creeping darkness from your mind. (yes I am madly in love with him can you not tell)
Arwen
Arwen doesn't hug very many people, so when she opens her arms to you it is a gift indeed. She smells of lilac and midsummer nights spent by the lake under the stars. Her hair is as soft as goose-down and the gossamer of her sleeves slips between your fingers. She holds the back of your head lightly as you lean against her, closing your eyes and enjoying the feel of her chin tucked against your head. Arwen will also peer into your eyes, as they are windows to your soul, and give you a soft understanding smile before engaging you in light conversation and laughter.
Thranduil
(as a brief aside, I do not at all like the characterization of Thranduil in the movies as they turned him into King Thingol of Doriath who is much different in temperament. thus, this will be based on his book self)
Thranduil is regal and guarded, yet he has a warmth about him you have grown accustomed to receiving from the Elves. Like Arwen he does not embrace others readily, but will receive your affection with a broad smile and happy chuckle. His hands placed securely on your upper back as you lean against him, breathing in his scent of juniper berries and pine. This hug will be brief but meaningful and leave you feeling elated and refreshed. He will then invite you to dine with them and perhaps accompany his folk into the forest to dance and frolic to the sound of harpists and singing.
Legolas
Legolas is full of laughter and wit and will accept your hug with joy, squeezing you tight against him as he ruffles your hair about in an affectionate manner. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale the smell of leather and woodsmoke. He will hold you against him for as long as you wish, even rocking you side to side if you remain in his arms for long. When you do pull away Legolas will grasp your forearms and beam at you, making a witty comment, his countenance brightening when you laugh.
Finrod
(Yes, I have to include this golden boy)
The first among Elves to befriend humans, even the first to see them, Finrod has a special place in his heart for his mortal friends. He loves giving and receiving hugs and will wrap you in his arms readily and with reverence. His golden hair tickles your face and he laughs, looking down at you as you scrunch your nose at the sensation. Finrod smells of the ocean winds that form the waves and the carpet of moss that covers forest floors. He is Valinor mixed with Middle Earth, belonging to both and yet neither. There is a sadness to his grip as he brushes a stray hair from your face after you pull away. But as ever with his kin the sadness in his eyes swiftly turns over to mirth and he takes your hand before pulling you along with him to your next adventure.
let me know who else I should write these for!
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Imagine if Fëanor and Indis actually got along really well.
I know that most people perceive that he hated her because she 'replaced' Míriel, but just imagine that they somehow managed to talk everything out and then get along and maybe even become friends.
But they still make a joke of pretending to hate each other when other people are around. And in private they make up insults to throw at each other when they're at the next family party, out of fun.
However, they make the insults so absurd that they make the others laugh. The two try to heal their somewhat broken family with that.
I think Finarfin would notice it first. But Fingolfin would also realize it, because Fëanor started to call him 'little brother' instead of all the 'nice' nicknames that he had normally for him.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Finwë: Can you two at least pretend to get along?
Fëanor & Indis, who pretend to not get along: ...
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theartofyori · 8 months
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Húrin Thalion, the Steadfast.
The father of Túrin Turambar, head of the house of Hador and the last of the lords of Dor-Lómin.
The first thing you'll notice about this is I made him look very late roman, with a spatha and a late roman helmet, and with a clasp bearing the heraldry of his house in his sword belt. I thing the aesthetic of early migration era/late roman fits pretty nice with the edain of most of the First Age, while the elves should look a bit more fantasy, and more "medieval" compared to men, at least in this time period of the Middle-earth. 
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animatorweirdo · 1 year
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Imagine trying to enjoy alone time in a tavern, but then ending up as the local therapist for an elf and his relatives.
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Imagine trying to simply enjoy some alone time in a tavern, drinking some beverage, and minding your own business till you meet this one elf and  became regular chat buddies. Now, the relatives of this elf keep coming to the tavern to talk about their problems with you. 
Warnings: reader’s sanity gets tested. 
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Day 1
Maedhros: *Walks into the tavern, takes a seat, orders a drink, and slams his head against the table*
You: Now that sounds like someone is done with everyday life.
Maedhros: You have no idea. 
You: Which one for you, work or unbearable relatives?
Maedhros: Hmm?
You: Work or unbearable relatives? Sometimes it's the work that tires you out, but sometimes it’s the relatives– who do things that make you tick beyond measure. 
Maedhros: Hmm… both. Why would you like to know?
You: Just filling out boredom. Wanna have a drink? I can pay for you because you look like you need it. 
Maedhros: Well – that is nice of you. I am Maedhros. 
You: (Name)
After a week of meeting with Maedhros to shit talk about family, drink, and send each other off– not to be seen for another week. 
Maedhros: And yet again, I have to clean up after my brothers. 
You: Man, that sucks. 
Maedhros: Indeed. I have to go. It was nice talking to you. 
You: Bye. 
Maedhros: Farewell. 
Maedhros: *Walks out of the tavern after paying the bartender*
You: *Sits in silence, drinking*
Maglor: *Walks in and notices you*
Maglor: Excuse me? Are you (Name)?
You: Uuh – yeah? 
Maglor: I heard about you from my brother, Maedhros. He apparently likes to come here to talk and drink with you. 
You: And you are?
Maglor: I am Maglor.
You: Ah, the one that sings in the morning and never shuts up. 
Maglor: What?
You: Nothing! What do you want? 
Maglor: I will be honest. I need to relieve something out of my chest. And since Maedhros likes talking with you. I have been ha — *talks about his problems with his family*
You: *Staring at him, confused.*
You: Wha –?
Week 2
You: *Trying to enjoy peace after having talk sessions with both Maedhros and Maglor for a week. 
Caranthir: You!
You: Wah! What!
Caranthir: Are you (Name)?
You: uhm – yes? I’m sorry. Did I do something to piss you off?
Caranthir: No. Why would you think that?
You: You look angry. 
Caranthir: Well, I’m not. I am Caranthir. I heard about you from two of my brothers, Maedhros and Maglor. 
You: Oh, the grumpy one and the one that hoards all the gold?
Caranthir: What?
You: Nothing! What can I do for you?
Caranthir: I heard talking with you helps relieve stress and resolve problems. So, let me start –
You: And what if I don’t-
Caranthir: I will only talk about this once, so listen carefully. I am so done with my –*talks about his problems with his brothers and relatives and problems managing the money*
You: What?
Week 4
You: *Groaning while lying your head against the table*
Celegorm: You (Name)?!
You: What? Who — who are you two?!
Celegorm & Curufin: *sits on each side of you that you sat between them*
Celegorm: We belong to the same family as the rest of our dear brothers, who seem to like turning their backs on us in our time of need. 
You: That – doesn’t tell me anything. 
Curufin: His name is Celegorm and I am Curufin. 
You: Oh, The unhinged forest goblin and the cheap copy of dad?
Celegorm & Curufin: What?
You: Nothing! I assume you wanna talk and let something out of your chest too? 
Celegorm: Excellent! Then there is no need for an explanation. Let me tell you what kind of a rough week we had. 
Celegorm: I was planning good things for our people, but they kicked us out because apparently we were evil, and I tried to force myself upon Doriath’s princess. I was only trying to show I would be a better option than that mortal man. She even stole my dog! 
Celegorm: Can you believe that? And all people claim we’re the most problematic people in Beleriand. 
You: Didn’t you try to kill them, though?
Curufin: And my son doesn’t want to be my son anymore? Apparently, I disgusted him so much that he decided to disown himself. 
You: —what?
Week 6
You: *Groaning even harder after exhausting weeks of listening to the feanorians’ problems*
Fingon: Excuse me, are you by any chance (Name)?
You: Please, don’t tell me you’re one of Maedhros’s brothers!
Fingon: Oh no, I’m not.
You: – really?
Fingon: I’m his half-cousin!
You: dammit!
Week 8
Fingolfin: You must be (Name)
You: Huh?
Fingolfin: Okay, let me talk about my kids and those problematic nephews of mine. 
You: Sir? Do I know you?
Fingolfin: My kids don’t listen to me, and my half-brother’s kids just do anything they like, causing problems and being a bunch of ruffians. 
You: Sir? Sir? SIR?!
Week 14
Maedhros: Hey, (Name). Sorry, I have not been visiting for a while. I have been busy with work. 
Maedhros: (Name)?
You: *You sit up, shadows and bags in your eyes, exhausted and looking like you were going to break down at any moment*
Maedhros: (Name)! What happened? You look awful!
You: You – and the rest of your family need to find professional help.
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Arwen: “Glorfindel could you please open this for me?”
Y/N: “You’re gonna ask the guy who died fighting a balrog? I mean that’s weak! Why would you ask him? Can’t even fight a balrog? Piss weak, Glorfindel!”
Arwen: *near death from shock*
Glorfindel: *almost falling over laughing*
Y/N: “Wait don’t laugh too hard! You’ll die again!”
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cilil · 10 months
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𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒾𝓇𝓈
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Characters: Manwë, Varda, Oromë, Námo and Irmo; reader's gender is unspecified - all up to your imagination~
Featuring: Dom/sub dynamics/undertones, predator/prey kink, soul sex
Warnings: Possessive themes, bit of rough foreplay and sex, smut/suggestive
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who voted on my recent polls. I'll be trying out a bit of a new format, combining headcanons with small scenes/imagines, with this one and hope you'll find it enjoyable. If there are other characters you'd like to see for this, feel free to suggest and keep an eye out for future polls!♡
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Manwë
ଘ The Elder King is a romantic lover and enjoys courting you, though even during these early stages he finds ways to subtly claim you for himself: He showers you with gifts like jewellery with sapphires (his signature gemstone), robes in his colours, objects decorated with feathers or bird-shaped items and writes poetry for you which he recites and sings for you both in private and in public.
ଘ Once Manwë has successfully conquered your heart, he makes sure to publicly display his affection for you by making you sit on his lap, kissing you and wrapping his wings around you at every opportunity.
ଘ In the bedroom, little remains of Manwë's calm, serene demeanour. He loves marking your body with his talons, covering you in love bites and engaging in breath play to make you feel just how much you need his element - need him.
ଘ Manwë has a breeding kink that gets particularly strong when he's in heat or nearing it and loves filling you up to make sure that his essence remains inside you as long as possible and his scent stays on you, deterring any other suitors from approaching you.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
Your lips part to release a soft gasp when Manwë pulls you closer and presses open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck, biting and sucking gently to leave blossoming marks. His mighty talons draw patterns on the naked skin of your back, causing you to arch and lean into his embrace; he is careful not to hurt you, though you already know you will be covered in thin red lines once he's done with you. 
"My little dove," Manwë croons between kisses, his voice deceptively soft; he caresses you like a warm, gentle breeze, though you know a mighty storm is slumbering underneath his calm exterior, ready to be unleashed, should anyone else attempt to touch what is his.
"Yours," you whisper. Your hands claws at his robes as Manwë continues to mark you as his for all to see; the Elder King's mate and lover that no other would ever dare to lay claim to.
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Varda
✧ The Queen of Stars is often absent from the daily affairs of Valinor in favour of tending to her creations in the depths of Eä, but she makes sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to even when she's not present.
✧ Varda loves giving you pretty necklaces, bracelets and other jewellery adorned with charms that are filled with her starlight, protecting you and burning anyone who attempts to touch you without her permission.
✧ When she makes love to you, she ensures that you will remember her touch and others see the marks she left on you as will - in case anyone was doubting that you are hers - by painting luminous constellations on your skin with her fingers, twinkling little stars reminiscent of notes in a song of her love for you.
✧ Varda also gives you water from her wells to drink, enjoying the thought of her essence filling you and providing you with light and refreshment. She will stop at nothing to make sure the powers of darkness and evil stay far away from you.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
"Hold still, my little light," the Queen orders, pushing you down and into the soft sheets of her bed with gentle authority. 
You blink nervously when you see the tip of her index finger glowing with sacred, primordial light, ready to paint the canvas of your bare chest with tiny, glittering stars. 
"Will it hurt?" 
Varda smiles and leans down to kiss your brow. "Of course not. There is no evil in your heart, dearest; my light would never hurt you." 
Her starlit touch is hot, and for a moment you fear it'll sear your skin, but as soon as she begins caressing you, reminiscent of the gentle strokes of a paintbrush, the sensation changes to a comfortable heat. You raise your head to watch as she turns you into another one of her masterpieces, and your beloved Queen looks pleased whenever her nimble fingers elicit small noises from you, her luminous eyes holding your gaze while she slowly works her way lower and lower. 
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Oromë
♘ Oromë is a hunter with all his heart, so once he has caught you, he certainly won't let anyone take away his favourite prey. He loves giving you trophies from his hunting trips to wear as accessories, a not-so-subtle message to all that you now belong to him.
♘ But that won't satisfy him for too long. The huntsman of the Valar is a wild and passionate lover and covers you in bite and scratch marks every time he takes you, making sure they are visible too.
♘ Oromë loves all sorts of cuddling and physical affection and actively initiates it whenever an opportunity presents itself. While this is certainly done for his and your enjoyment, he also wants others to see that you are his and his alone and ensure that his scent will be all over you even when he isn't around, in order to ward off unwanted attention from other suitors. For the same reason, he also breeds you thoroughly.
♘ If you are a good little pet for him, Oromë will reward you with a lovely collar he made specifically for you, letting everyone know that he has claimed you and intends to keep you.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
Oromë's large hands hold on to your hips with a strong, bruising grip that has you whining into the moss below. You already know not to expect mercy whenever you play his favourite game of hunting and catching his prey, a symbolic earning of his right to claim you. 
"What a lovely little deer," Oromë purrs and leans forward to bite the juncture between your neck and shoulder while he enters you with the fierce determination of a feral beast. 
Your cries and moans only spur him on to thrust deeper and harder, his hands keeping you in place with the strength and steadiness of an experienced hunter. As far as you know, you two are alone in this part of his woods, yet something tells you that he wouldn't mind if one of the other hunting parties found you – to see him taking you, marking you, filling you with his seed to ensure that his scent you be on you for days to come. 
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Námo
☯ The mark of a Fëantur may be subtle, though no less intense than those visible on your skin. Once Námo has taken you as his lover, he binds your fëa to his, leaving an echo of his song and a ghost of his touch with you wherever you go. Those proficient in ósanwe and/or attuned to spiritual matters feel the Doomsman's presence wherever you go, no more than one call through your bond away.
☯ Nevertheless, Námo knows that not all Incarnates are able to sense and heed his silent warning, so he also presents you with clothes and jewellery to adorn your body. He likes long, flowing robes in dark colours, veils and little charms shaped like crows and ravens, similar to his own attire, and greatly enjoys seeing you wearing those, an unmistakable sign of belonging to him.
☯ When he isn't present and you are outside of his halls, Námo may occasionally guide your fate in whichever way he sees fit to make sure you return safely. Those who attempt to harm you will face the Doomsman's wrath.
☯ Yet as much as he wishes to protect you, Námo wants nothing more than to own and mark you in the most intimate way possible - which is your fëa. Should you ever be slain, or once his need and longing overwhelm him, he will whisk you away to Mandos, keep you there until the end of the world and fill your spirit with his song and essence time and time again until you know no other than him.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
Cool lips kiss the nape of your neck when Námo takes you, slowly and deliberately, enjoying the way your smaller form trembles in his arms. He's sitting on his throne with you on his lap, your robes covering the illicit image of the Master of Fate penetrating you, yet the small moans falling from your lips and the movement of his hips betray the truth. 
"Let me have you," Námo whispers, and you know he wants more than to claim just your body, so you open your mind to him as well. 
The sensation of his fëa reaching out to touch and intertwine with yours is just as intense as the joining of your bodily forms. Your helpless noises increase in volume despite your best efforts to hold back, yet Námo doesn't seem to mind – in fact, you begin to suspect that he wants the residents of Mandos to look up at his throne and watch, so they will know who you belong to for all ages to come. 
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Irmo
☾ No one has escaped the loving arms of the Lord of Dreams without remnants of glittering dream dust on their clothes and skin, and you are certainly no exception, quite the contrary: As Irmo's favourite little butterfly, he makes sure to touch, embrace and cuddle you to his heart's content, and ever since your courtship started, you feel like the dream dust has never left you again. He feigns innocence, yet you suspect that this is very much his intention, so everyone can see his touch upon you even when he isn't around.
☾ Irmo crafts a special dream catcher for you and makes sure you wear it at all times, an unmistakable sign of his love for you. It contains a small part of himself and his power, and he taps into it to ward off nightmares.
☾ He also likes entering your dreams, spending time with you there and, most importantly, ensuring that no other suitors may ever find their way there, because you belong to him and him alone. When you sleep in his gardens, you often wake up feeling his lips and hands kissing and caressing your body, leaving trails of dream dust and, at times, colourful patterns on your skin.
☾ As much as he enjoys claiming your body, he desires nothing more than to possess you in spirit as well, so that the union of your fëar leaves a permanent mark on your very being, filling you with his song and his essence.
. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭
"Here? In the middle of your garden?" 
Irmo merely laughs in response and rolls you over on your back to climb on top of you, his iridescent butterfly wings fluttering excitedly. 
"Why not, my darling petal? Is our love not the fairest and most beautiful thing my garden has ever seen?" 
Glittering dream dust falls from his wings and hair as he leans forward to kiss you, and you soon find yourself feeling both soothed and excited by his presence and the comfortable weight of his fána on top of you. 
Sensing your emotions, Irmo's gentle hand sneaks between your legs and finds you willing and eager for him, ready to be taken. He breaks the kiss to gaze at your face, delighting in your blushing cheeks, half-lidded eyes and parted, wet lips, panting softly as you look up at him. 
"I will make love to you until you fall asleep in my arms," Irmo whispers, "and when you do, I will continue to make love to you in your dreams." 
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blazemourn · 2 months
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Unpopular take : Elves are autistic and humans have ADHD 💥
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erajoie07 · 6 months
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Glorfindel x fem reader
Writer's note: Today is Sunday and I revisited Glorfindel's characterization, and I was interested with a picture of him mastering his horse in the dark forest, glowing beautifully in the dark. This blurb can be thought as a metaphor or another way. We have all been in dark places in our lives and we meet people who served as our light and got us out. But we should be careful of these people or they'll lead us back to these dark places. Truly, literature reflects human experiences. I belive that this is one of those blurbs, fics where I went hard in description, and I'm so happy I could cry, no joking. I hope you enjoy this because I really wrote this in one seating and I loved it. The artist of the artwork is Anke Eißmann.
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Within the towering dark barks in the dense forest and canopies reaching the bleak sky, and the fog that blurs the sight and path, there is almost little to nothing but fear and frustration. She has lost her way numerous times for when she turns another direction, little hope is there for her. This cursed forest whispers of dark murmurs and entities seeming to lead her astray. The once noticeable paths lead her to added layer of despair. No matter where she turn, something stops her. Alone, frightened, she dismisses all hope and crumble in her spot, bawling her eyes out for the endless pain she is left with. She has been here before. Many have led her out of this forest, only to return once more where she came. She covers her ears from the entities that whisper endless torture. With that, she shrinks and cowers in fear.
Hooves miss digging the ground as its owner masters the beautiful horse to gallop past the trees with its combined light from the torch he's holding and the golden glow he emits. The trees contort to seemingly deflate to the ground, the entities rush away before it is sucked by the immensely powerful light. His hair flows in the wind behind him, leaving trails of small light. The amount of light he uses permitted him to see the cowering maiden about to be devoured by the entity if not for the light that can suck it in. The man pulls the horse to walk to the terrified maiden. Upon feeling the warm glow, she raises her head, just to pull it down by the terribly beautiful glow of a man with pointy ears, clad in the the most beautiful garb she has ever seen, diminishing the torn rags she wears. He skillfully gets off his high horse, swaying its rump and mane.
“Fear no more, you are safe. They cannot hurt you now. Come now, dear, reach my hand.”
She looks up once more and the light no longer hurts her eyes, she can now see his face, smiling so vividly on her. Reaching out his hand, with the torch in the other shining upon them. She hesitantly reaches her hand, when she looks at him again, the smile never wears off. Her fingers reach his palm, and he grasps them pulling her up. Smaller than him in height.
“I'll get you out of here now, dear. You will never have to be afraid again.”
As if on cue, the horse, named Asfaloth gets down and lets her climb on him. With that, the man, who was an elf, named Glorfindel charges the horse on his feet. “Brace yourselves on me, dear.” She follows, then Glorfindel masters Asfaloth out of the forest.
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wandererindreams · 2 months
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Huntsman and the forest sprite pt.1
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for @singleteapot - thanks for all the brainrot!
Once upon a time, when the Secondborn already inhabited Middle-Earth, something forgotten came to live in a grove, that was said to be enchanted by some ancient power.
Children often told their parents stories about mossy feet, luring them to chase. Or about an unusually small squirrel, or a hare with moss-like fur, playing chase and hide-and-seek with them. Some thought it was some kind of a sprite, playful, mischievous, but benevolent. Some children even insisted, that after a particularly long chase, they found themselves on a spot with thick bushes of raspberries, nice and ripe. Or another spot with delicious, edible mushrooms. The elves, sometimes passing around this grove, named it Lómatáli, Mossy feet. The name was adopted and used by humans as well.
In those days Oromë, the great Huntsman of the Valar, rode out from time to time, alone, just to see how the rest of the world was faring, since most of the great spirits, who created the world, settled and partially isolated themselves in Valinor. Including him. It didn't sit well with him, and every once in a while, he just had to leave, travel and check the world. After all, this was how he found the Firstborn Children of Eru.
When he came near the grove, in which some kind of sprite was said to live and roam, he got intrigued and decided to see for himself. He knew that some of Maiar decided to remain in lands beyond safety and bliss of Aman, and wondered if said sprite was one of them....or if it was just a legend, made up by local inhabitants.
Being who he is, he soon sensed a being powerful enough to not be one of the Children. A Maia. He tried to track her down and contact her. The first thing was just as easy as breathing. The latter though proved to be rather a challenge.
A carefree chuckle and a few cones thrown at him greeted him, instead of a proper response to his calls. To say he was taken aback by this audacity would be an understatement. Who dared to show such disrespect towards him? As he reached with his advanced senses for the unknown Maia, he realized, there was no respect...but also no disrespect to him. As more cones were thrown at him, hitting him at various body parts, but never hurting, he realized, he was simply challenged to play. As if some child taunted him. The initial exasperation was replaced by curiosity. And so he accepted.
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The sprite living in the ancient grove was a shy maiden. A Maia, who entered the confines of Arda far later, than most of her kind. To her, everything was so strange and new, overwhealming her the first time she took all in. Her eager and curious spirit focused completely on exploring and discovering, to the point that she never saught others of her own kind, and not even elves nor mortals. She loved interacting with critters in the grove, befriending some of them. She shared their shy and skittish nature. It rarely stopped her mischievous spark, that that set her apart though.
There was something, that made her feel odd, at first. No matter how she tried, and how she was able to mimic the ways, how critters communicate and behave, there was always something missing. She couldn't quite pinpoint it, in those few moments, when she was pondering about it.
As decades and centuries passed by, the feeling of sticking out - not the good way - only grew. She watched her critter friends find themselves a mate, having offspring, grow old and die, one generation after another. The same it was with the humans who sometimes visited her grove - they lived just a little longer, being children only for a handful of years.
Whenever this weighed heavily on her, she slept, for days at first, that turned into weeks, months, years and even decades, whenever it hit her particularly badly. When she woke up again, she kept reralizing how much the world around her had changed. It was dizzying and sometimes she panicked, trying to find at least something familiar.
It was late spring once again, when she sensed someone entering the grove. This presence felt like no other she had ever encountered, and yet...something felt slightly familiar. He was pretty, his moves so fluid and smooth, that it would put snakes to shame. His form radiated strength, power and agility, that was similar to that of elves, but still exceeding them.
But elves were always the best challenge. She couldn't let that pass. Unaware, that it is her loneliness, which spurrs on those bouts of mischief, she let him know of her presence, and the cones she teased him with sent her message rather clear:
Catch me, if you can!
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The chase is on. And the longer it took, Lómatáli realized, that this one, who resembled elven male, was quick and very much perceptive, and seemed to sense her. He was not easily misdirected.
She had never been this thrilled. She had never had to put so much effort into running and hiding. When she finally squeezed herself into an old, hollowed out willow, her heart racing, panting, suddenly it seemed, that she finally succeeded to throw him off her tracks. She did not deel as delighted and amused as before, rather a bit disappointed.
Just when Lómatáli sighed and peeked cautiously out of her hidout, her hair covered with leaves and bits of bark, she heard a soft chuckle.
"Found you, little one," the stranger beamed at her from a strong branch close to her hiding spot, perched like a raven, his posture relaxed and yet somewhat giddy. "My, you are quite a cute little thing. Might I know your name? Mine's Oromë."
She froze initially, her beautiful moss-green eyes going wide, before she squeaked with a startle and a little panic, and changed into a squirrel, scurring away.
Oromë expected many things, but this was a bit surprising reaction. Why would an Aini act like that? He blinked and chased this cute sprite once again.
Lómatáli found herself - if not caught, then at least found pretty soon - more than once. It was just as frustrating as it was intriguing. Noone was able to find her until now. Did she do something wrong? How was he able to find her so quickly?
When another try to get a word from her failed, Oromë wondered, why was the little Aini so skittish and shy. Maybe she encountered someone from Melkor's lot who scared her? She didn't seem to be traumatized though. More like...skittish in her nature. So he changed his tactics.
He still chased her, and always tracked her down, but once he figured out a comfortable distance for her, he kept being around, resting, relaxing, carving little whistles or beads from bits of wood. Trying to lure her out, he left a handfuls of blueberries, raspberries or nuts on a chonk of tree bark, along with a few things he made for her.
The weeks of summer passed by and their little game of chase and hide-and-seek continued. Oromë liked it more and more, for this one gave him a challenge he had not experienced (his hunts of fell beasts aside) in ages. The playful nature of it was refreshing and he felt as if cleansed, his usual worries gone, not bothering him. He talked to her, mostly about Valinor and places he visited in Middle-Earth, letting her get used to his presence and voice. Sometimes he spooked her a little, when after a short monologue he looked straight at her direction, grinned, but remained sitting or laying on the ground, all relaxed.
Sometimes he even dozed off. Such moments were nerve-wracking for her, her curiosity pulling her close to him, while her shyness kept her from doing exactly that. One late summer evening, she finally overcame her shyness and crept up to him for a closer look.
His smell was like a warm embrace of something long forgotten - the pines, leather, sun-heated slopes, covered with thick bushes of wild berries.
It was a careful touch to his hand and hair that woke him up and allerted him. He didn't move, just opened his eyes. He got a glimpse of twin braids of greenish hair and moss-green curious eyes, before there was another squeak. And just like that, she hid behind a nearby fallen trunk.
"No need to be afraid little one. Though I must admit I would love to know your name," he chuckled.
Lóma-táli, another mind reached his, a timid touch of her fëa, brushing over his, making him hold his breath as his grin widened.
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When autumn came with it's chills and rains, he found her getting drowsy and not that much lively and playful. Also, he sensed he was needed back in Valinor.
It wasn't easy to part, for the rest of the summer in the grove was filled with chases and rests. He got to hear her voice a few times, so soft and silent it made him melt inwardly. To sense her fëa reaching for him, calling his name, elated him more than he expected.
"I must go for now, little one. I'll miss you. And I'll return to you as soon as I can, Lómatáli," he parted from her, leaving a nice, fluffy blanket near her hiding, along with little trinkets he made for her. "So stay out of trouble, yes? I'll come back, I promise," he looked at her direction, his words echoing with sincerity, care and wistfulness.
She is still hiding.
"Oro-më? Back...soon?" "As soon as I can," he noded solemnly, his heart melting. Finally she spoke his name aloud for the first time.
This time loneliness hit Lómatáli harder than ever before. Companionship with the critters, that she shared her home with, was no longer enough. Sometimes she added her soft voice to howls of wolves far in the distant hills, as she felt something akin to a pain in her chest. Leaves only started to fall, when she hid in another hollowed out tree to hibernate, protected with her charms, the only comfort being the blanket and trinkets from Oromë, still carrying his scent.
She slept and dreamed about the chases they both enjoyed. About his stories he told her with soothing deep voice, smooth as silk, calming her whenever she felt nervous. She dreamed of groves and woods she had never been to, bustling with live. Those forests and groves being alive themselves.
Oromë found himself thinking of the little Aini with feelings of warmth and longing unfamiliar to him. He missed her laughter as he chased her. He worked through his duties with thought of their reunion. Would she finally show herself to him? Or would he be greeted with an onslought of cones thrown at him?
Late spring once again found Oromë wandering in Middle-Earth, this time rushing to Lómatáli's home. Once there, he reached with his mind for hers, only to find it being sluggish and drowsy.
She woke up as his fëa caressed and teased her her own, her eyes widening. Joy and elation started running through the blood stream of her fána. It had her crawl out quickly from her hiding spot, all giddy. It didn't take too much time, before they found each other.
"I know you are behind that oak, Lómatáli. Why don't you show yourself to me?" Oromë grinned amusedly. A chuckle was his answer, along with acorns and cones thrown at him, in a teasing manner. "Oh, another chase it is," he laughed his eyes gleaming gold. "Let the game begin!"
Once again, they spent days and weeks together - this time there were a bit less of chases and more spending time together, Lómatáli listening to him, telling her how he had been, and what he had done. When Oromë took a nap, he sometimes sensed her creeping closer. He just smiled at her antics and let her aproach him in her own.
She seemed to like to toy with his braids and acessories, he had in his honey-colored hair. Also, sometimes he felt the warmth of her tiny hand on his own, as she compared their sizes, breathless "oohs" and "aaahs" flowing from her lips. Whenever he stirred or just as much as flinched, she quickly hid again.
Sometimes Oromë had to leave her, to check warious other places not too far from her grove. He always promised to come back soon. And he always kept his word, bringing her little souvenirs from his travels. Like a bracelet made of leather threads and pobbles of crystal, amethyst, rose quartz, moss-agate or malachite. Like a hairclip, adorned with feathers of various vibrant colors. He shared his food with her.
Little by little they grew closer to each other, and Lómatáli opened up to him bit by bit, letting him hear her attempts at talking. It's another thing that confused Oromë - as if the speach itself was foreign concept to her. But that didn't stop him from talking to her , he only slowed down to give her more time to process the meaning of words as he spoke them. At this point, Oromë was sure, that Lómatáli had never met nor served one of his brethren, though she would fit nicely among his or Yavanna's servants.
It was not the way he looked at her though. She was no potential servant to him. She meant much more. But what exactly she was to him?
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Lómatáli herself basked in her dear friend's presence. Still the power she felt from him, laced with ferocity, sometimes made her nervous. The way he was welcoming to her, luring her to come close with his little gifts made her feel warm inside. That odd pain inside her chest faded and was replaced by a strong pull towards him.
She relished breathing in his smell. It gave her strange feeling of security. As the late spring turned into full summer, he used to take naps or simply sleep close by. He never failed to wish her good nights rest.
It has been some time in the middle of summer. Oromë sat close to a little campfire. The clearing around him, with bubbling creek nearby allowed him to watch the sky, adorned with Varda's creation, while the flames kept shooting little sparks up, as if trying to prove they could do the same. Oromë sang to her a few tunes, some of them lively, luring one to dance, other calming and filled with longing.
Moon was at it's fulness, hanging right above the clearing, soft, warm breeze whispered in leaves many secrets she couldn't quite understand, when she finally stepped out of her hiding, as Oromë was stretching himself, ready for another nap. He had seen the many forms she could take - small crow, squirrel, hare, and of other critters living in the grove. Tonight though...after another invitation and encouraging from him, she decided to reveal her true form.
Oromë rubbed his face, ready to get some sleep, when he spotted her. His eyes widened and gleamed like amber. Soon he tilted his head and smiled at her.
"Nice to finally see you, Táli. You are beautiful." Oromë exhaled and slowly sat up. "Want to join me here, by the fire?"
Lómatáli didn't move at first, her heart pounding somewhere in her throat. At first she just returned his stare, her own eyes wide, as she froze like a deer, caught in lights. Oromë realized that it could be his gaze, that keept her on spot and adverted it, to look at the flames.
"Feel free to come and sit by the fire, once you feel like that. I would very much like to enjoy your company, little one," Oromë cooed. He had a bit of his meal ready in a neat wooden bowl.
Once he turned his eyes away from her, Oromë heard her let out a deep exhale filled with relief. Like a skittish being she was, a few little steps by another few of them, she finally crouched close to the bowl and reached for berries and nuts that were there.
She kept her safe distance from the campfire, but there was another source of warmth that subtly lured her closer. Still her nerves got to her, whenever Oromë looked at her, but she soon relaxed, getting slowly used to it. When she met his eyes again, she felt warm all over. He gave her a warm smile as she reached the point, when the only thing between them was the bowl.
Oromë found himself admiring her small form. Lómatáli seemed to love the color of moss and wore a short, makeshift dress, that she made with her powers as it seemed. It mimicked leaves, moss and bark in it's texture, but ist still seemed to be nicely soft. It reached a bit above her knees. There were no sleeves. He soon noticed, she used the little gifts he made for her to adorn her dress and hair with them.
"Oro-më,...talk...stars?" "You want me to talk to stars?" he raised his brow. Headshake. "About the stars? About constellations maybe?" Lómatáli nodded, her eyes gleaming.
"Very well," the Hunsman of the Valar smiled widely. "Make yourself comfortable, there's a lot I can and will tell you about them," he started. He showed her various stars, told her their names, and in what times they could be seen from the grove. His smooth deep voice helped her relax. Sometimes she even pointed at a star, that made her curious - which earned her more stories about Varda's servants and creations.
From that moment on, more evenings and nights were spent like that, him sharing stories about stars, constellations, Varda herself and also about his Maia Tilion, stirring the Moon. From there, Lómatali heard about the forests and groves and more in Valinor. Oromë talked about them, taking his time to paint the images of those with simple words, his small and cute companion knew.
After one such night, filled with chat and songs, Oromë woke up to the feel of something curled up to him. This did happen and still does from time to time ...his nature luring critters to him. This one though...was Lómatáli, curled up to him, her body chasing warmth to ward off the night's chill. As he pulled carefully his cloak to cover her better, a tiny innocent smile appeared on her lips as she stirred closer to him. It made him melt and hold his breath.
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Since the night they spent huddled against each other, Oromë found himself growing fond of Lómatáli. Each time he needed to leave her for some time, it got harder. Earch reunion with her becomes precious moment, filled with warmth, mirth and deep joy, filling his chest and from there his whole body.
When Lómatáli opened her eyes, he was already awake, watching over them both, enjoying her closeness and melting at the display of her trust. As she focused on her surroundings, when she realized where and how she slept, all the changes in her expressions were priceless and he made sure to imprint those in his memory. Her innocence and spontaneity were precious and refreshing to him.
With each spring, summer and even a bit of autumns spent together, they grew closer to each other. Oromë thought of her as a friend, and more than a friend, actually. Being together with her made him relaxed, and it always replenished and renewed his resolve to do his duties - all that with thoughts of being together again, playing chase, enjoying each other's company and all simple joys of life.
Lómatáli also started talking with him more and more with each visit to her. As he told her stories, he spotted something. She braided the little wooden beads he made for her into her hair. Realization of it made something stir within him, leaving pleasant, searing heat within his body.
The Aini found herself wanting to relish the closeness, Oromë offered her so freely. The way he always took care for her, shared his warmth with her during chilly nights, the food they enjoyed together, all these little gifts he kept bringing, made her happy. Sometimes it made her wonder why did he keep doing that, until she watched birds during their mating season. Realization hit her like splash of icy water, making her gasp. She was desired! Did Oromë want to mate her?
With the time spent together, playful springs, summer evenings filled with cuddles and stories and stargazing, early autumn afternoons feeding each other berries, or funny rolls in colorful leaves, she felt herself missing him during long evenings and nights in autumn, before she hibernated again. Any of the things and gifts Oromë gave her were great comfort, as they carried his scent and made her feel as if her treasured friend and maybe even more was still close.
She dreamt again. About vast forests, sunny clearings, small valleys, where creeks and small streams sung their bubbly tunes. But this time she was never alone. In her dreams, they were together, basking in their closeness.
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When spring came again, earlier then usual, Lómatáli was all sluggish. As if she couldn't get completely sober and were still half in her dreams. Unfortunately for her, this was also the time, when young hunter, freshly adult, decided to track down and hunt that extraordinary and tiny creature, that noone ever managed to get a full glimpse of.
Unaware of this hunter due to her half-asleep condition, she simply found a nice, partially hidden sunny spot to take a nap and dream again. The next thing she knew, was the sudden sense of accute danger, followed with silent whistle of an arrow shot at her. She yelped with piercing sharp pain in her thigh and panicked. This never happened. Oromë was capable of finding her, but there was no scent of him - other than the fading last whiff of it from her dress. Instead, she sensed young human hunter, all giddy to kill her.
The boy had only little idea of what he had done. Soon he noticed the first signs of biting more than he could swallow, when everything around him darkened. the breeze traversing through leaves suddenly felt cold and clingy. Gone was the warmth, and it was, as if something sucked out most of the colors and left only faint shades of brown, gray and green. All was silent and he heard something scurrying away, whimpering accusations to indifferent trees and bushes. He found it hard to breathe and of a sudden it was, as if the forest itself was filled with silent, choking rage. It prickled at his instincts, clawing at his confidence with harsh strikes. He felt watched with eyes filled with vengeance and hunger. All it took were a few minutes, before he fled, scared to the marrow of his bones, never to return.
Lómatáli never experienced something this painful. She couldn't even transform, it jarred the wound terribly, increasing the agony. In her panic, despair and pain she tried to pull it out, but to no awail. As she grew tired, she found herself much better hideout, crawled in and hoped to sleep the pain away. It didn't work much.
When Oromë returned to the grove once again (a few days after Lómatáli had been shot), the atmosphere around was nearly unrecognizable. Something in his chest clenched as he started searching for her, taken aback and worriyng more with each minute he waited for a pair of mossy feet to dance and run around, tiny hands tossing cones and acorns at him, luring him to chase.
The feel of something being terribly wrong gnawed at him. He frowned and focused on finding the little Aini's Song. When he finally found it, he gasped. It was so silent, and changed with pain, that for a moment, he felt sick with worries. He ran to her hideout, his eyes wide and glowing with supressed rage at the one, who made his shy friend suffer.
She was drowsy and miserable - the pain never letting her relax thoroughly. She did all she could, to get rid of the arrow, but with no success. Moving was out of question - even little twitches and tries to stretch or to find some relief caused only more pain. It resulted with her growing more and more restless and stressed - there was no prospect of her condition getting better anytime soon.
This was the worst she had ever felt so far, and she couldn't see a way out of it in the future. She flinched, her eyes going wide, when she heard familiar voice through painful haze.
"Finally I've found you, little one. Let me take care of you," her eyes met glowing amber ones, that made her tremble and yet sigh with utter relief. A sigh that quickly turned to sobs of pain and joy and fading fear and loneliness.
Even with her little help Oromë had to be careful as he pulled her out of her hiding spot. there were few whimpers and hisses, whenever he jarred her wound slightly, making him murmur silent curses at the one who hit her. When she finally rested in his arms in a form of small fawn, she felt his lips against her head.
"I'm taking you home with me. To my home, that is. It can be yours as well, if you would like it. Once we are there, I'll tend to your wound. You'll be safe there."
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Lómatáli had foggy memories of that travel at best. It felt kind of unreal, as if they were floating, and the world was passing around them with a speed that blurred everything. While still in pain, she felt warm and safe. Cuddling against Oromë was then something that felt natural.
Oromë, when he finally arriwed to his halls, inspected her wound and decided - just to make sure Lómatáli would not suffer more than necessary - to summon a few healers of Estë. Lómatáli later remembered soothing songs that lulled her to strange kind of heavy, but peaceful sleep. When she awakened, her thigh was already bandaged and the wound was healing - slowly but surely. She felt oddly weak and tired.
She learnt from Oromë, that her wound itself was rather serious, but her condition was worsened by infection and resulting fever. The healing was taxing for her fána and her fëa grew restless unused to inactivity when awake. Her habbits of sleeping off anything uncomfortable or unpleasant did help a little, but that also meant being parted from Oromë for longer, than she was willing to accept.
He had been with her most of the time, and it didn't matter if was awake or sleeping. He kept her in bed, which she was starting to hate, and he kept her entertained, which she loved, all at the same time. It lead to cuddles and lots of stories, while she rested, all curled against him.
It also lead to her trying to sneak out more than once, many times this backfiring at her, when her yet healing wound protested and sent jolts of pain through her body. Oromë always found her soon enough, before she managed to renew her injury.
"My sweet little one, this again? You need to rest, if you want to heal properly. I've already told you this. What's wrong, Lómatáli?" "Need..forest." she mumbled, her head hanging low. "But you can't walk yet, little one," he sighed, reaching to caress her cheek. His brows furrowed as he tried to find a solution. "Please. Need...sun, wind, trees, bird songs, stars, rain...outside." her eyes were now dull grey-green, making him blink at that change.
He tapped his chin for a moment. Then his face brightened. "This could work, after all, you are quite light and tiny," he smiled at ther to cheer her up, before scooping her in his arms, mindful of her injury. "I'll be carrying you, until you heal enough to walk on your own, Lómatáli. Would you like that?"
The way she perked up at the idea said it all.
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The first time, it was a bit uncomfortable, until Oromë figured out, how to carry Lómatáli safely and surely, without putting any strain on her healing wound. Once he had his cherished Aini in an improvised sling, so that he had his hands free, his regular errands became much funnier.
It even seemed to speed up Lómatáli's healing. Oromë showed her various parts of his forests, as well as many of his private smaller dwellings, always hidden in some cozy clearing or valley. Sometimes they took a break, bathing in the hot springs or simply enjoyed the warmth of the sunlight. Oromë loved to adorn her hair with flowers and colorful feathers.
Finally, Lómatáli healed well enough to finally walk around, though Oromë kept an eye on her to make sure, she would still be mindful of her still healing injury. Thanks to the trips they made together, she already got to know his forests enough to not get lost, and to avoid the parts, where dangerous beasts roamed. She was free to walk wherever she liked.
Oromë, now assured, that she will soon recover fully, returned to his duties, always making sure to part from her with a cuddle and a promise to return soon. He kept those promises, always bringing little something, to make her light up and smile.
On a day, when Oromë, along with the healer from Lórien finally agreed on her full recovery, Oromë took Lómatáli to a secluded valley with hot springs. "My dear Mossling, I believe we should celebrate. How about another game of chase, hm?" he grinned playfully at her.
His challenge was accepted with delight. Off course Oromë tracked her with ease, but he did take his time, just to make sure Táli enjoyed it to the fullest. As they rested, still panting a bit, her curled up against him, Oromë was about to ask her something important, when she looked at him with wide eyes, full of nervousness and longing. "Oromë-mate?"
Never before had Oromë been this caught of guard. His heart as well as his eyes softened at her honesty and nervousness, along with longing. He knew, he grew to like her, a lot, but was it enough? Did the word MATE have the same thing to both of them? His mind raced, trying to figure out, how to answer the best way for them both, but it took long. Too long for her. Lómatáli grew sadder with each heartbeat Oromë was silent, looking at her. Was there no desire for her? Suddenly, all this became too much. She couldn't bear it any longer.
One step back.
Another step back.
She fled, her eyes stinging and filling with tears. She didn't hear him call for her to stop.
Oromë gritted his teeth at how royally he failed. He knew he needed help as much as he did not like the idea of needing a help to sort this out. But the least he wanted was for Lómatáli, his Mossling, to be unhappy.
His tiny, cute Mossling.
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First of all, he made sure he concealed himself to the best of his ability and tracked Lómatáli - he wanted to be sure, she would be safe, wherever she went. The sadness and depression that leaked from her was almost choking him, it alarmed him with it's intensity.
What startled him even more was, that Lómatáli was deeply asleep. As if she hibernated, not slept, like in the nights spent next to each other, under the watchful eye of Tillion, stirring the Moon. Remembering those moments, he got an idea and rushed to speak with Irmo, Lord of Dreams and Desires.
Fortunately, Irmo wasn't too busy, when he finally found him, lounging in his tranquil gardens. He blinked at Oromë's rather humble request at first, but agreed to help him. Irmo followed then Oromë, as the Huntsman lead him towards Lómatáli.
As they reach her, Irmo inspects tiny Aini, his touches so light, that even those if a feather would feel crude and heavy. Soon, Irmo's usually dreamy, relaxed expression turned dead serious, to the point he now resembled his brother Námo like a twin. "She's on the verge of fading, Oromë, due to intense loneliness. To avoid painful emotions, she hibernates. She had done it so many times, that it became nearly natural to her," Irmo's voice felt like avalanche of heavy rocks and boulders, burying Oromë's heart under their crushing weight. "There's still hope though. She can be healed and averted from that path. As I'll search her sleeping mind for the cause, I'll share my finds with you, so be attentive."
Oromë nodded and got ready, taking his time to tune his being a bit closer to Irmo's Song. Soon, he felt sleepy. Normally he would resist, but this time he alowed his mind be drifted into a dream-like state.
There's darkness and silence, both slowly receding, bird songs and whispers of the wind in the leaves taking their place. A curiosity is alight, along with child-like aw. There is so much new and interesting to explore!
There are meetings with the creatures of wild life. There's a bit of familiar feeling - they are similar to each other - forms of life. Bouts of playful chases. resting and bathing in the sunlight together. Hiding from bigger creatures and predators.
Oromë sees the wildlife creatures mate, have younglings, grow old, and die. Death is a frightening experience, beyond understanding. Why does her friend keep sleeping? Why is there no more warmth of life left? He sees decay and witnesses new life coming out of it.
There are meetings with Children. Be it elves or humans...even they grow old, find their mates and leave. there are searches for her own mate, but to no avail. It hurts now to watch other sentient beings mate and have offspring.
Why...no mate for me? Too different? Or ...wrong? It hurts...
Hibernating brings such a relief. And so when most creatures mate...there is deep sleep. It's better than dealing with that strange, hollow feeling and strange pain within.
Who...who is this one? He gives great chases...how how could he find me? And so easily? ...He's...actually fun to have around. e gives me...things...? I like it. It smells nice. No longer alone. Why does he have to leave? Will he return?
He's back! He's back! He's back! Brings even...gifts? Like that black and white bird - it's shiny...does he...like..? And there's more! He shares food...and other things too...wants..me? Wants mate?
There's always sadnes when Oromë sees himself leaving through her eyes, sadness that grows each time it happens again. Sadness that she keeps sleeping off.
Another awakening, that was harder than before. Drowsiness that is killed by sudden pain. Fear...fear...fear and consuming agony. Oromë now feels her calling him with growing, overwhealming despair. He almost cries with relief Lómatáli felt, when he found her and took her with him to safety. Her profound joy almost drowned him.
Her longing for him, her peace, whenever he was by her side, all that grew intense, making her melt and Oromë now understands. He is desired, loved, admired so much...and he is struck with guilt, when she dreams of her question, she wanted to ask him for some time already, only to be answered with silence.
"I'm such a fool," Oromë wanted to pound his head against a rock. "We all make mistakes, my friend," Irmo smiled at him. "If her feelings are returned, the healing should be rather fast and permanent," the Vala of dream gave Oromë an amused, knowing look. "You better meet her with your head nor bleeding, nor aching."
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tinfairies · 1 year
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ELROND! SMUT!
*ahem* elrondsmut?
It's Bedtime
Elrond x Fem!Reader Smut
Minors DNI
The sun had long since set. The large chambers were lit only by a beside oil lamp. The Lord of Rivendell was sat up in bed, reading. Just like every other night. His Lady had gotten out of the bath, wrapped in her large fluffy towel she emerged from the washroom.
Elrond's eyes did not leave his book, not when she had dropped her towel and certainly not when climbed onto the bed. His attention was only caught when lowered his book. He raised a brow at her, trying not to glance at her nude body.
"Can I help you, my love?" he kept his lips from curling into a smirk. His Lady hummed and crawled forward, pulling his book from his hands and setting it aside. Elrond just eyed her curiously, wanting to see how far he could push her. She had straddled his hips, her cunt was hot on his cock even through the fabric of his pants.
Elrond just looked up at his lover, daring her to try and get what she wants. She huffed as if reading his mind. Her hips rolled against his, and he grabbed his book, flipping it back to the page he was on. He did his best to act bored with her, she pouted. Her hand came down between them, she stroked at his cock through the fabric. He still showed no interest, his eyes locked on the book.
She struggled to get his cock free, and then struggled even more to sit down on it. Despite his apparent disinterest, his cock betrayed him. The tip leaked precum and throbbed under her touch. She finally sunk down, her greedy cunt sucking him in. The Lady mewled, feeling so full and stretched. She looked to her lover, his breathing had picked up and his face was just ever so slightly flushed.
He was breaking. Good.
She leaned forward and started to kiss at his neck, the Lady refused to move her hips. She wanted to see just how long Elrond could take it. Her cunt pulsed and squeezed around his throbbing cock. He sighed and glanced at her, feigning irritation.
"You better fuck yourself on my cock or you're going to be sitting there all night."
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doodle-pops · 2 days
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Lords of Gondolin | With A Musician Reader
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Request: hi mina how have you been? i hope you’re doing ok c: i was wondering if you’d write a scenario about human!reader showing off her greatest musical creation to the elves? it’s a piano they’ve spent a decade workshopping & building to perfection. readers also made middle earth versions of the upright bass, acoustic guitar, & cello. they plan on making more instruments cause it’s their passion and how they want to be remembered by. for the lords of gondolin - @dicksoutformtl
A/N: I’m doing just fine! It was fun writing this request know that all of them would be impressed at reader’s craftsmanship. Enjoy!
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.𑁍༊˚ Galdor
Galdor is thoroughly impressed by your craftsmanship in creating new and improved versions of some of the instruments they already have while crafting newly discovered pieces as well.
He would have known you were into the musical arts, hence why you were always playing or composing a new piece every few weeks. However, what he had never suspected was a entire batch of new instruments being presented to him.
He is enthralled and eager. While some instruments may not be a favourite to his ear due to the sounds they emit, you can bet he’s informing you of some upcoming festival where you can show off your creative talents.
Galdor is a proud elf Lord who would happily talk about what you’ve created to the others and recommend you to the King to play your pieces at balls. He wants everyone to be aware that you’ve made inventions and they’re groundbreaking.
There are moments when he’d sit around and listen as you explain to him how you created each piece and the inspiration behind them or watch as you play songs on them.
It touches him when he becomes aware of the purpose of your collection of paper in the corner of your room. They were all songs written to be played on these instruments about how much you like or care about him. He’s touched and appreciative.
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.𑁍༊˚ Ecthelion
The musical master is too stunned to speak as he enters your humble abode and notices all the new “classical” instruments lying about. Ecthelion’s curiosity gets the better of him and he can’t help but strum the strings of the bass and cello, or press the keys on the piano and gasp at the new pitch echoing.
He becomes aware that these are not instruments that exist in Middle Earth and bombard you with a million questions. “How did you make this?” “Where did your idea come from?” “What inspired you?” “Who are you really?”
Ecthelion probably assumes that you’re not normal to come up with all these instruments since the Valar would have created their instruments for them…so are you a Maiar or Valar in disguise?
You will be followed around until you answer all of his questions with responses that tickle his brain the right way. And be prepared for him to request if you two can now play duets at festivals and balls. He wants you to be the musician couple.
Ecthelion will show you off, more than Galdor and some of the others because he’s proud and wants everyone to know how talented you are. He doesn’t care if the other Lords comments that you’re more talented than him, he would simply acknowledge and say, “Yes!”
And not to forget, he’s making sure that your name gets recorded in the history books as an important figure in music. He’s even more proud when he realises that you’ve outdone musical protégé like Maglor and Daeron.
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.𑁍༊˚ Glorfindel
There is not a person without a ten-mile radius who hasn’t been alerted by him of your musical genius abilities. Even Lord Elrond would be shaken aggressively as he is being told about your creation. “Y/N has reinvented the world of music! There is no one as great as them!”
Goodbye Lindir or Ecthelion, hello to Y/N, the new musical protégé of Gondolin or Imladris. Get used to being announced at dinners or balls to play your newest pieces and having Glorfindel looking like a proud dad (if he had a camera, his look would be completed).
Anytime you’re making a trip to your music room, don’t go without Glorfindel or else he’ll barge in all grumpy, complaining that you forgot him. He wants to be present at each new masterpiece you’re making, whether it be a new instrument or song. He likes watching the look of concentration as you play each piece to conclude which suits the song best.
Be noted that he’s curious, so he is bound to touch the piano or cello and gasp as the notes ring out. I can see him being drawn towards the guitar and requesting that you teach him. I don’t know, but Glorfindel playing the guitar suits him (idk if it’s just me).
Cue Glorfindel wanting to join you whenever you’re playing and the guitar can be included. He’ll happily sit beside you and strum away lightly while you play the piano or violin.
Like Ecthelion, be prepared to be announced/talked about by Glorfindel any chance he gets. He’s not rubbing it in anyone’s face, simply expressing how proud he is of his little human creating instruments that “change everything”.
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.𑁍༊˚ Egalmoth
Most proud of them all, however, he’s torn between wanting the world to learn about your skills and also keeping them hidden so he alone can know this secret and cherish it.
A bit stingy sharing your talents with the rest of the world because they should be for him to enjoy and praise. He does complain when people don’t praise you enough and encourages them to be louder.
I don’t see anyone surpassing him in terms of being the biggest cheerleader. This elf considers himself blessed to be around such a gifted person (you’re more gifted than his friends in his eyes). You’re a miracle worker creating new instruments unheard of or reinventing old ones.
He wants to learn about your pieces even though he doesn’t know about music deeply, he would to be told everything. Don’t worry if it sounds all foreign to him, he’s understanding.
Egalmoth would inquire if you would like more materials to make more instruments because he understands that it’s your passion. He would even ask if you would like to open up a school to teach others.
Like the others, he would request that you play at dinners when the Lords come over or if the King is hosting a dinner party. Might get annoyed if someone wants to collaborate with you because you sound great on your own.
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.𑁍༊˚ Rog
This craftsman is enthralled, amazed, excited, and proud of your creation. You made these instruments all on your own! Rog cannot cease talking about how you designed and crafted all the instruments by yourself. This is one of the rare moments when he's talkative nonstop.
You’ve got one of the great blacksmiths hooked on your inventions and wants to know the process you took to create each piece. He’ll be teary if you mention that you used some of his instructions during his days of teaching you basic material crafting.
Learning more and more that everything was done on your own and you spent years making each puts a type of ride in his heart that’s unshakable. If you show him how each piece is played, Rog finds himself whipped and ready to boast.
It’s strange seeing the quiet blacksmith boasting and talkative, and it’s for good reasons, you. All the Lords know, the citizens know and the King as well. Very soon, you’ll be having a hearing with the King who was intrigued by your new inventions courtesy of Rog cheerful chattering.
Rog doesn’t mind whether you choose to play privately or publicly, the choice is yours and he’s pleased with either decision. He wants you to be comfortable, but he would ask if you could play him a piece so he could experience the beauty of your creations.
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.𑁍༊˚ Maeglin
Curiosity caught his attention for a great purpose and it led him to discover new things worthwhile. Maeglin is enamoured and his curiosity is piqued tenfold. Questions rattle off the top of his head about all that he’s seeing and how did you manage to think about creating these pieces.
You’ll be seen as someone highly skilled and great in his eyes because you’re out here reinventing the world of music, something the elves are passionately known for.
“Can I come to watch?” “Can I sit and listen?” “Will you play for others to see what you’ve made?” He will stand in the doorway as you play your pieces and write songs suited best for each with a sense of pride in his chest. You’re a part of his House and creating all these great inventions to make a name for yourself. How could he not be pleased?
Definitely another one who would recommend you to the King to present your showstopping performances during balls. Whether you play with the orchestra or sole, Maeglin is supportive.
You’re Maeglin little songbird who he wakes up to playing your piano or guitar on the balcony or in the drawing room. You provide him with melodies that allow him to melt in and drive his tension away.
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Masterlist
Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @mcwentfandomtraveling @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @hermaeuswhora @lamemaster @zheiya @addaigio @involuntaryspasms
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lamemaster · 1 year
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Subject of Faith
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Pairing: Sauron x Human reader
Summary: It was not the cockiness of omnipotence, but a longing that lined your words. And Sauron knew that longing, for Ainur and Men shared it.
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"Would you rather put all your faith in someone you can't see?"
"Like the music can't be seen and fragrance can't be held, faith is not a matter of seeing, it is subject to believing." Your answer frustrated Sauron.
A mere human dare talk back to him? A guard of the king of Numenor. A lowly guard whose entire life would be blink of an eye from Sauron.
Yet, Sauron could not stop speaking. Every passing second he poked at every aspect of your existence to find a weak spot. Anything that would quench his curiosity about you.
A distant part of his conscious warned him to restrain. To not reveal his plan and to play the part of a gullible repentant. He truly tried but failed.
You were nothing. A poor human who stood outside his cell for hours. A monotonous and taxing job. But no matter how hard Sauron tried he failed to find a crack.
"Don't you desire for an immortal life, likes of which is given to the elves?" He questioned you, settling back into the now familiar game of unravelling your mind. "How nice would it be to not leave your dear ones, to be with them forever and to not suffer the pain of old age."
You do not turn to face him. Your back does not relax at his honeyed words but you do answer him. You always do. You treat him with the fairness of any other being. Answering his questions while continuing your job. "Maybe it would be easy to accept the bliss of immortality and wish for a life I have never lived. However, how unfair would it be to dishonor a gift given by my creator. How can I a mere mortal know of his plans for me? I can only submit to the one who has given me the chance to see this world and hope for another mercy or another miracle to be revealed." Your voice rings loud in the desolate prison. "Furthermore, I really look forward to seeing my grandparents in whatever fate awaits me," the slight joy in your voice stuns Sauron.
It is not the cockiness of omnipotence but a longing that lines your words. And Sauron knows of that longing. Ainur and Men share it. A lingering remembrance of their true home. Elves, whose fate remains tied to Arda know little of it. A constant tug to overturn the world looking for that one place that promises some relief from the constant restlessness.
The same restlessness grows in Sauron's heart. After eons he finds himself thinking of not Utumno or Valinor but the Timeless Halls where he first came to be.
He resented you for doing that to him. He had heard imploring words of silver-tongued elven lords and forgiving speeches of the Valar who resided beyond seas, but none had bugged him like the simple words of the human who stood guarding him.
And so, the chained Maia rested his head on the cold unrelenting wall behind him. "I hope to see you the day you die. When death will look you in the eyes, I hope you manage to remain as sure as your sound right now."
Months later when Tar Mairon, the closest advisor of the king, finds himself in the same prison. His hands dipped in the warmth of your blood.
You lay on the cold ground that had once been the spot from where you answered his questions with your back facing him. In the past, he rarely saw your face but now as he looks at the peaceful look on your face he knows it to be you.
There is indeed no bitterness or fear in your death. It is acceptance that greets Sauron. Even in death you stay true to your words. Sauron marvels at the stubborn human who refuses to bow to him in life and death.
One day...one day he promises, you will meet again. That day he might force you to kneel or he might end up joining you. That day was too far but it would come after trials that awaited him.
In a twisted fate, he hopes in some salvation you await him. And when he finds you, he hopes to hear your voice and ask you questions that you reply to without a fail.
He will find you when he can't offer you the hoax of immortality or feed you falsehood of greed. You don't need that. You won't accept that.
So, Sauron awaits for his song's end. Maybe his end will guide him to you or some peaceful oblivion.
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eunoiaastralwings · 8 months
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Heya Lovie , hope you're doing well😁
I'm obsessed with the idea that Maeglin didn't actually love Idril romantically and it was a rumour made to villainize him to cover up the fact her husband killed him ... I did see a post on it hence why I'm obsessed with it but your thoughts on that?
Second- Maeglin request please if you don't mind 😅 but my idea is a human comes to Gondolin for..whatever reason maybe a black Smith in training? And hence forth maeglin is assigned their mentor. But just said human trying to hide their feelings because insecurity is massive thanks to them gorgeous elves and their annoyingly good looks. I am liking the idea they're a male , even more reason to hide their feelings cause humans don't really accept gay relationships , specially in those times, so safe to assume that elves don't either (but they do thanks to love binds by the soul and not the body of said soul) so just fluff and some young love panic . I completely understand if you don't want to do the whole gay thing, gender neutral is perfect aswell. Take care 💕
Love Through Souls
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featuring maeglin x male reader
fandom tolkien- the silmarillion
warnings ooc, shitty writing. . . and what not
a/n am sorry. . .
You carefully tried to do as Maeglin had instructed you - feeling a little nervous with every move. 
You hoped you weren’t too obvious on how you continuously looked at him.
It was because you couldn’t help yourself - from gazing at the tall and dark haired ellon in front of you.
He was assigned as your mentor the moment you show interest in smith work.
It was rather kind of king Turgon to take in your poor shivering human male soul from unkind lands. 
It was common knowledge that the wise king did let almost anyone into his hidden kingdom - to say you were lucky were an understatement.
“Careful!”
Maeglin ordered - keeping you away from the sparks that soared from the fire.
Your heart couldn’t help the involuntary leap it had done when he had put himself in between the fire and yourself - pulling you beside him as it soared.
Maeglin never ceased to mesmerize you everyday with skills and abilities as a smith.
It was rather both inspiring as well as mesmerizing - it had only made you fall deeper for him.
But sadly you knew the case - not only were you a human, but a male. . . besides the young prince had already set his sights on the princess of Gondolin.
She was rather beautiful with her long golden-like hair that seemed to sparkle and tint like of a jewel - and her eyes of deep blue could draw anyone in.
Not only herself - but every elleth and ellon present in your sights only made you question deeper about yourself.
You felt fat and frumpy in the sights of such beauty that left your eyes wide in wonder.
But out of all elves present - especially among the males of course - the only one that truly caught your attention had been Maeglin.
WIth his broody and silent nature - with sharp stares and careful gazes he managed to capture you in at once without taking too long.
You had not meant to fall for the ellon - you had known how humans alone in your village had felt about same sex couples.
Therefore - you could not even begin to think on how elves would react towards it.
So you kept it down - ignoring the hurt that caged your heart every time you spotted Maeglin’s eyes linger on Princess Idril.
But even as you did - everything he said or did, like for example now how he pulled you behind him to protect yourself from the fire - the more you fell and the harder it was for you to suppress your feelings towards him.
It was getting harder and harder day by day to be around him as he mentored you.
Therefore finally you had decided to let it go - for the sake of further humiliation and the ache of your heart you let go of your passion of smithing.
So Maeglin no longer needed to mentor you - and you no longer needed to face him every day.
Your hands delicately brushed over the small metal tag chain necklace you made - it had both your own name and Maeglin’s name carved on it.
It was something you made yourself - sure as you were still learning there were a few dents and misshapes but it was still worth it for you.
You had made it when Maeglin was away with king Turgon in his gardens and was not able to mentor you one day.
While it may never happen - at least you were free to dream about it right? 
Then suddenly your door slammed open - making you jump from the edge of the bed where you were sitting. You instantly hid the chain necklace.
If looks could kill you would be 10 feet under the ground right now - because of how Maeglin glared as he walked over to you.
He reached within milliseconds because of his long strides and you did not even have time to react.
“You could have knocked…”
You said quietly.
“I rather not have - considering how my student failed to attend his class today.”
Maeglin’s deep voice rumbled - making you shiver.
“I had informed the king I will no longer be attending smithwork.”
You said - looking at your feet.
“Yes - I’m aware you informed my ever wise uncle but you did not inform me - nor did you give him my uncle a valid reasoning - therefore I do not approve of you quitting!” 
Maeglin said.
It was the first time you had seen Maeglin react like so - usually he was quiet and reserved but this was like he was speaking before thinking like he usually does.
It means you had struck hard to make Maeglin mad enough to behave like so.
“I apologize for not coming to you. . .” 
You offered a straight heartfelt apology - keeping the chain necklace clasped in your hands and hidden behind you.
Maeglin looked surprised - even a soft red tinge appeared suddenly on his cheeks as he blinked and cleared his throat, looking both shameful and awkward.
“. . .Why have you quit?”
He asked instead - from the sound of his tone, it was easy to tell he had wondered about it too many times and had been trying to hide it. 
But emotions had been something Maeglin always struggled with - either he wouldn’t come to terms with something, or other times he never understood what they meant.
“I do. . . - I do not have the passion for it, no more. . .”
You sighed with a gulp - your hands clasping tighter around the necklace.
“I do not believe that for a second!”
Maeglin declared - making you shocked for a moment.
You only frowned at him.
Then Maeglin tried to peek behind you.
“What is it you hold behind you?”
Your eyes widened and your clasped the necklace tighter.
“Nothing of which concerns the matter.”
You tried to put out formally - then stepped backwards as Maeglin took a step towards you.
Maeglin narrowed his eyes - staring into your eyes as if debating on something in this mind.
This seemed to be the Maeglin you knew  - the one who was careful and calculated, who needed time to formulate his thoughts into words as he stared at the person he wished to speak with. 
Others found it uncomfortable - you did too at first - but later realized it was how he was able to function.
This time however - he swiftly reached behind you.
With this elvish swiftness you didn’t even have the time to react as he quickly grabbed the chain necklace off your hands and dangled it above your head reading engraving on it.
You gasped trying to reach for it - but Maeglin kept it away from your grasp.
“What is this?”
He asked incredulously.
Your heart couldn’t but beat painfully fast.
You managed to grab it back and turned away from him - he probably felt so disgusted.
Tears had pricked the corners of your eyes.
“Nothing!”
“Let me see. . .”
Maeglin offered - feeling awkward and guilty at the sight of your tears.
“No - you should leave. . .”
You whimpered.
Maeglin gulped.
“Please. . .Y/N - I did not mean to offend you. . .It does-”
“It does not matter, please leave. . .”
You said starting to cry, your heart aching.
Maeglin fisted and unfisted his hands - before he harshly turned away slammed your door shut behind him as you cried.
— — — 
It has been a week since the incident. You had been in the gardens - randomly walking thinking of what to do with your life since you already gave up your passion for smithing.
Then sooner or later become the gossip in the hidden city.
You had thought of leaving - but you knew yourself walking outside these borders was a death sentence in a literal format.
You sat near the fountain leaning against it.
It was no use crying - you already did that a few times, no point in wasting another round of tears that can’t help anything.
You leaned back further - when you suddenly felt something odd against your head.
You turned your head to see a chain necklace hanging off the edge of the fountain.
You frowned and took it in your hands softly.
There was a centre stone - pendent necklace - and it had been your birthstone.
Your frown only deepened - then you turned it as you felt something engraved in the back of it in Sindarin. 
You couldn’t understand it - but you obviously made out your name and Maeglin’s, making your eyes widen.
“From me to you, Y/N. Yours, Maeglin. . .”
Suddenly - you heard his name, making your head snap up at him.
Your eyes were still wide and unbelieving as Maeglin awkwardly shifting from one foot to another.
“May I sit?” 
He asked - when you didn’t respond.
You gulped and nodded.
Maeglin sat down close to you - sending you a disapproving gaze and looked so much like King Turgon’s scowl as you tried to scoot away. 
You sighed staying put.
Either of you spoke for a long time - simply staring ahead.
“You know. . .it is frowned upon. . .and perhaps even wrong. . .”
You bit your lip saying it.
“What is?”
Maeglin frowned.
“Two males. . .in a relationship. . .”
You struggled to stay.
Maeglin didn’t say anything for a moment.
“I have given it thought and I do not see any wrong in us. . .”
He tried to say.
But you shook your head.
“Mae. . .It is frowned upon. They will not accept it. We will be disowned, mocked and gossip.”
You softly said.
“Why do you think they will not accept? Humans do not accept this form of relationship?”
Maeglin frowned - some bit of fury in him rising.
“No. I presume the same for elves.”
You frowned.
“Sure. . .It may not be common and I have not seen another couple such as this. . . but Gondolin will accept us. . .”
Maeglin promised you.
“How?”
You frowned deeper.
“Because elves do not care for what body your lover is, meleth. . .we love and cherish through souls. . .that is love. . .and that is what my mother has taught me. . .”
He said quietly and softly - still having a hard time talking about his mother.
You blinked, sighing. You were scared that you will not lie about.
“Are you sure. . .they will not. . .”
You struggled to say the words.
“Trust me. . .”
Maeglin whispered and you nodded.
Then he leaned forward - pressing his lips against your lips calming the anxiety in your heart and soul. . .
Maeglin was right. . . this was love through the souls. . .
Taglist form
tara's taglist: @wandererindreams @fizzyxcustard @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @asianbutnotjapanese @floraroselaughter @mismaeve @bunson-burner
silm taglist: @doodle-pops
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Imagine being Ecthelion’s daughter and faling for Maeglin.
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animatorweirdo · 1 year
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Imagine being Melkor’s child and having a tragic marriage with Maedhros
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(This idea had been on my mind for some time and it’s finally time to post it. Heed the warnings because this will be a one sad story)
Imagine from @imagine-all-the-elves​
Warnings: Angst, mentions of child neglect, manipulation, torture, forced marriage, violence, loss of hand and death. Neither you or Mae will have fun time but you do have some fluff moments together. 
----------------------------------------------------
-It was never supposed to happen in the first place. You were the child of the world’s greatest enemy, and he was the son of your father’s greatest enemy. It was a union never meant to happen. 
-You never wanted it to happen, especially to him. 
-You had been kept hidden when your father, Melkor, took you away from your beloved mother. You had been barely allowed to go outside, so it left you with doubts that you even existed to the outside world. 
-Melkor never treated you horribly in your first years of life, but he was absent most of the time. He was always busy warring with the rest of the Valar and trying to take over Arda. You only had caretakers and Mairon to look after you. 
-You knew your elven caretakers were slaves and forced to look after you. It made you feel bad for them, especially when they got poorly treated by orcs and other servants of your father. 
-Mairon didn’t treat you horribly. He was busy like your father, but he sometimes took turns watching and keeping you company. You once thought you could confide in him like a friend, but you were left uncertain since he was a ruthless maiar who often thought lowly of everyone. 
-You did not have a similar mindset to everyone on your father’s side, and they kept you away from the elves to avoid ‘attachments’ – so you grew up rather lonely. 
-In those lonely times, you would think about your mother, Nienna. She was one of the warmest beings in Arda, and she was the one who taught you to be sympathetic toward others. 
-You missed her terribly. You missed her and your uncles. You wanted to feel her embrace and hear her lullabies soothe you from nightmares again. You wanted to play with your uncle Manwe and listen to Irmo’s jokes that never failed to make you laugh. You also wanted to be with your sibling again. 
-You asked your father many times if you could visit them, and he always refused, making your loneliness grow as you had no friends in Utummo or anywhere in your father’s kingdom. 
-Mairon kept you safe and hidden in Angband when the Valar tore down Utummo and took your father away. It was a terrifying experience as you didn’t know what was happening and were not allowed to go outside for a long time. 
-When everything calmed down, you were left alone with Mairon, who got busy rebuilding your father’s armies while you grew up alone in the shadows. 
-It was peaceful when your father wasn’t around. It was more quiet in the world, and there was less destruction even though orcs brought new thralls every day, and you weren’t allowed to leave Angband.
-You regret that you never took the chance to escape and reunite with your mother and sibling. You felt like a bird in a cage because Mairon restricted you from leaving Angband and tried to fill your head with teachings and expectations of how you would help your father reach his goal when he returned. 
-At that time, you hoped your father never returned from his imprisonment, but fate has never been the kindest to you, and the day finally arrived when Gothmog and his balrogs marched out of Angband to save your father from Ungoliant’s webs. 
-You did not know how to react when your father walked through the doors, holding three stolen jewels, and when he shared the news that the two trees of Valinor were no more, destroyed by his and Ungoliant’s hands. 
-You were worried, especially when you heard the Noldor elves left the blessed realm to chase after him to take revenge for what he did to their previous king and the two trees. 
-You expected war and bloodshed, so when the elves and your father’s armies finally went to war. It was the least surprising thing to you. 
-However, when your father captured the new high king after Feanor’s death. That’s when things began to go south. 
-It all started with shared looks. 
-You visited your father and Mairon from time to time to give out reports and the progress of your work, and that's how you met your father’s latest captive. 
-Nelyafinwe, who in Sindarin came to be known as Maedhros, the firstborn son of your father’s enemy and the current high king of the Noldor. 
-He was in a poor state the first time you met, and you pitied him since he was going through the same thing many of the thralls did in Angband. If things were different, you could have helped him out of his situation, but since you had little power in Angband and he was an important prisoner. There was nothing you could do for him. 
-Although you never talked to each other, you continuously glanced at one another, and it ended up in a regretful situation because your father noticed and had a horrible idea. 
-He proposed marriage between you and the red-headed elf. 
-It was unthinkable, so you tried to reject it because you did not want Maedhros to suffer any more humiliation. He already suffered enough in your father’s hand. His kin would most likely take him as a traitor if he ended up getting married to the child of his father’s enemy.
-You tried to reject it and reasoned that the whole idea was useless. It would bring nothing for either side. However, your father had always been a talented manipulator. He used your weaknesses and sympathetic nature against you. 
-He spoke unimaginable things and persuaded you how things would go since peace was all you always wanted. He also questioned if you liked the tortures to stop or continue since you were so against the idea. 
-You found yourself in the corner. You couldn't find your way out of it, and deep down, you did want the torturing to stop, so you agreed to the proposal. 
-A ceremony was held. You went out of your way to keep it small and argued with your father about what you wanted for the wedding so It would be small and quick. 
-Maedhros was against the whole thing, and you understood him well, so you at least managed to give him robes to cover his chains and a veil to spare him the shame of being seen. 
-It was a terrible situation for both of you. You never wanted a spouse who would get forced to marry you, so you could not help but utter silent apologies. 
-Your father did keep his promise and allowed you to take your new spouse away from his and Mairon’s grasp. 
-You brought your spouse to your realm. It was a gift from Mairon after you grew older and decided to work alongside him. It was a lonely fortress behind Angband, surrounded by vast icy landscapes. It was a peaceful place, but it was also just another prison for thralls and those meant to keep in check. 
-It would be impossible to escape from there without crossing anyone from Angband, so your spouse was now truly trapped. 
-Your relationship with him was silent and awkward. Maedhros was weary of you, no doubt thinking you would be exactly like your father and start torturing and mistreating him upon the first chance. You did not blame him. The whole thing was undesirable for both of you, so you tried to explain that you would not do anything against his will. 
-He did not have to go through the wedding night and was free to have your chambers to himself. You did work in your office most of the time, and there was a couch, so you had a place to rest. 
-He was free to do anything. If he needed something, he could just ask. The only thing he should not do is go outside or try to escape since there were creatures outside who guarded your realm or made sure no one would try to leave without permission. 
-You had the servants unchain him and kept your distance from him so he would not have to deal with you, and that’s how your new married life began. 
-Maedhros was weary of you and waited for you to turn back on your promise and do something to him, so he ended up spending his time in your chambers with no one but servants to bring him food. 
-He was surprised when he saw the state of your elven servants. They walked freely and were in good shape, unlike others who served in Angband. They were not afraid to talk to him, so he often conversed with them. 
-He felt conflicted when they spoke well about you and assured him he could trust your words. You were truthful and kinder than your blackhearted father, so he did not need to fear betrayal. 
-He began asking about you and collecting information. He had not heard about you before in Valinor, so he tried to gather all the information he could get before thinking about confronting you. 
-He was surprised when he learned your mother was Nienna. He knew your sibling and had heard that she had another child who went missing many years ago, even presumed dead.
-When he grew less weary, he took a bold step and stepped outside your chamber. Your servants showed him around and told him everything about the fortress. 
-When he asked if anyone tried escaping, they took him to a window and showed him the wild yetis that guarded your realm. They were faster and more ferocious than orcs. It was nearly impossible to flee, and many faced a horrible end at their hands. 
-You were kind enough to interfere whenever you could, but many would end up living with horrible scars after the encounter. 
-The servants explained to him that the yetis were made to guard the fortress and to deal with any thrall that dared to escape, but everyone knew their main task was to keep an eye on you, so you were just as a prisoner as them. 
-Maedhros took in the knowledge and began to understand your situation more. He was still weary of you and kept his distance whenever you were out. 
-He observed you most of the time, especially one time when a new maid got brought from Angband, and she accidentally broke something. He expected you to act differently behind closed doors and punish the poor elleth, but you calmed her down and simply told her to clean it up. 
-Having seen and experienced your father's temper, Maedhros was taken aback by your calmness. 
-He continued observing whenever you came out of your office. You knew he was watching and did not mind it. You even played ignorant, continued your days, and even asked for his well-being from time to time. You tried to show you meant no harm. 
-Maedhros began to grow less weary of you and then started wandering around your home and getting familiar with every detail. It was surprisingly warm inside despite the outside world being an icy wasteland. It was more welcoming than Angband, though.
-Maedhros didn’t plan to face you or talk to you anytime soon, but he made a mistake going to a library that he thought was a separate room from your office. 
-He was startled when he saw you and froze when you looked back at him. He quickly apologized and prepared to leave, but you stopped him and told him it was alright and he could stay if he wanted to read something. 
-You even offered to leave since you were almost done with the daily work so your presence wouldn’t bother him. Maedhros did not know how to answer your offer, so he rejected it and said you could stay and finish your work. 
-The exchange was awkward, so you agreed and tried to work while he went through some books.  
-You thought it could go peacefully and without troubles, but the silence soon became unbearable. You managed to continue your work, but you could feel the elf looking at you from time to time. It made you almost flinch how uneasy your spouse was, but you did not blame him. 
-You decided to break the silence and ask if there was something he wanted to ask and if his stay had been comfortable so far. 
-Maedhros thought through his questions carefully, and when you didn’t show annoyance or anger with each question, he decided to talk and ask more questions without fear.
-You answered to the best of your abilities. You were silently happy that Maedhros felt comfortable enough to talk with you despite the questions obviously directed at why you were not like your father. 
-It was not the first time, so you didn’t mind. Many of your servants assumed you were cruel and terrible, like Melkor. It also leaves them confused when you don’t act on their assumptions and treat them better than anyone from Angband. 
-You never had a reason to hate the elves or any other creation. You knew your father was obsessed with conquering Arda and creating something of his own, and it made you sad how many got hurt because of him. You were more sympathetic like your mother. 
-The conversation was quick since it was time for dinner, and Maedhros wished to dine alone in your chamber like he always did. He took the time to think about you and your answers to his questions. 
-He felt a bit ashamed for the way he spoke to you. He was rather forward and demanding with his questions, like he was interrogating you, and it made him feel slight regret because you didn’t even do anything to upset him.  
-You didn’t even get angry with his tone of voice, so it was clear to him that you were nothing like your father. Truthfully, you looked saddened when he spoke to you like that, and it only fueled his desire to apologize for his behavior. 
-He left your chambers, hoping he would find you and apologize to you for what happened. He was unaware he would end up finding someone else, someone unexpected.  
-Maedhros was only walking through the hallway, trying to remember the location of the dining hall until he felt like being watched. 
-He then dumped on someone he never expected to see, your sibling. 
-He was left shocked because your sibling should be in Valinor with your mother, but they were standing right in front of him, grinning at him. Maedhros was creeped out because they looked and acted nothing like they were in Valinor.  
-They were psychotic and made vulgar remarks about him and his kin. They even called him your toy while threatening to taste his blood. 
-Maedhros didn’t know what to do. He was unnerved to the core and close to doing something rash like fighting them until you arrived and stopped your sibling from touching him. 
-It was the first time he saw you get agitated and more threatening. You strictly spoke to your sibling and chased them off before turning your attention toward him with a much softer expression. 
-He was shaken and confused from the encounter. He then assumed your sibling was working as a spy, but you brushed off that theory and explained this sibling was a doppelganger. 
-When you were younger, and the old Utummo was still up. You asked your father many times to see your mother and actual sibling since you were lonely. He created the doppelganger to fix that, and you have been stuck with a psychotic fake ever since. 
-You apologized for his unpleasant encounter and told him to call or come to you if they bothered him again. 
-Maedhros felt anxious for the rest of the day, and you felt horrible watching him be afraid again since he was finally getting comfortable around you. It made you curse your father and that fake even more. 
-You didn’t dare to bother him, so you stayed at your usual spot on the balcony whenever the night graced the sky, hoping you spot a few stars through the gray smoke. 
-Maedhros once found you alone and was curious, so he approached you and talked to you.  
-You asked him if the sky was really full of stars like your servants said since you have long forgotten. Maedhros was pretty surprised to hear that, but he confirmed and told you about all the stars he knew. You listened with a smile, and the conversation just flowed from there. 
-You asked about your sibling and mother since he had met them and known them for a while before he departed from Valinor, and he described how they were doing and how much they missed you ever since you went missing. They and the rest of your family dedicated one day to remembering you each year. 
-You felt happy to know your family was doing well and that they had not forgotten about you. You thanked him for sharing about your mother and sibling. 
-Maedhros felt sad for you and angry. He could see the loneliness in your eyes, and the thought that you have been kept away from your family so long that you had forgotten how a star-filled sky looked made him resent Melkor more. 
-You began to talk more, especially wherever you were on the balcony. Maedhros tried to spot stars with you, and you spoke about your families. He told fond memories about Valinor, and he sometimes joked with you about his father since your imagination made him look like a screaming goose on fire when you heard about him. Honestly – it was perhaps one of the most accurate descriptions of his father. 
-You two began to spend more time with each other. Maedhros felt more comfortable with you. Even though he shouldn’t, he began to trust you. He began to see you as some kind of a friend.
-He just couldn’t see Melkor in you. You were soft-spoken and gentle like your mother. You made him enjoy his stay with your stories, and he liked how kind you were toward your servants. 
-It made him wish you could have met under different circumstances. 
-You were happy you were building a connection, but even so, you tried to avoid touching him or indulging in any close contact. 
-Maedhros noticed when he asked about your ring once. You two were on the balcony, and he was curious about the peculiar-looking ring on your finger. He touched your hand, and he felt you freeze under his touch. He thought he did something wrong, but you kept your composure and told him how you used to steal the ring from Irmo, and he allowed you to keep it since you liked it so much. It was one of the only things you had left from your family. 
-Maedhros thought he made you uncomfortable, so he tried to apologize for touching you without permission. 
-You were surprised and then explained he did not make you uncomfortable. You were afraid to touch people in general because there had been cases when people mistook you for your father when you tried to help them. 
-You did not want to touch him because you thought it would revoke bad memories of Angband and the horrible things he went through, especially when he had scars as a reminder of his time there. 
-Maedhros understood that you felt guilt and made a bold move to hold your hand, telling you how you would never remind him of your father, and it wasn’t you who gave him his scars. 
-It was at that moment you started falling for him hard. 
-You would have been happy if you two became friends, but after feeling his hand on yours and seeing him smile for the first time. You couldn’t help but start feeling something more for him. 
-You were terrified because there were several reasons why you shouldn’t feel such a thing for him. 
-One, your father would win if he ever knew about your growing feelings, and two, Maedhros would never feel the same for you. He got forced to marry you, so he had no reason to love you back. He would only see you as someone he could trust in this place, nothing more. 
-You tried to keep them hidden, but the crimson-haired ellon did not make it easy when you two spent time together on the balcony, and he started smiling more.
-He adapted to your way of living and even learned the little codes you made with your servants to know someone unwanted was visiting. He even started helping you with your work. 
-You tried getting your hands on fruits and food he would like when he started dining with you. He would always be surprised when you managed to bring Noldor-made cuisine to the table, but it made him smile and thank you for going to such lengths. 
-You couldn't stop thinking about the feeling of his hand when he held your hand for the first time without fear. The warmth and the gentleness behind it made you want to feel it again, but you didn’t dare to ask him. You were still afraid to touch him. 
-However, your yearning had made you unaware of how much you started looking at his hand, imagining how it would feel against yours. 
-Maedhros was quick to notice and decided to ask your permission to hold your hand instead, making you flustered. You did not want to say no, so you let him touch your hand and even make little jokes about how small your hands were for an Ainur, and those little moments always made you feel weak and crave more for his gentle touch. 
-It was now obvious you were falling hard for him. It was an incredible feeling because it felt like how your mother described it when she was still with your father. But you knew, one day, you had to help Maedhros out of your prison.   
-He would never be safe as long as he was stuck with you, so you finally started planning a way for him to escape and be free of his predicament. 
-It was a carefully crafted plan. You made a note to keep all the details in mind, and one day, you found a perfect chance for him to escape, but then your fake sibling just had to visit and start harassing your beloved. 
-They had arrived without your knowing and started harassing Maedhros with vulgar remarks about his family and situation. They called him names, and Maedhros tried to ignore it like you told him, but when they made a crude remark about you, he couldn’t help but retaliate against them. 
-They were threateningly quiet after he stood up for them. Maedhros felt unnerved and tried to leave through the door, only to have his hand cut off when he grabbed the handle. 
-You stood up when you heard him scream and quickly made way toward him and your fake sibling. You found Maedhros’s hand on the floor and saw him sitting against the wall while holding his bleeding stump. It felt like the world froze around you when you watched his blood dress him in red. 
-Your sibling only cackled and told you they only gave your spouse a lesson in misbehaving and blamed you for not keeping your things in check, but you only grew furious. 
-The anger you felt was uncontrollable, and you attacked your fake sibling. 
-You threw them away and even took your sword out of its sheath, ready to kill them. You were known for your reluctance to harm anything, so when your sibling saw the murderous rage in your eyes – they took out their weapon, and you ended up in a violent fight. 
-Maedhros watched with fright as you fought with your sibling, slashing wounds and throwing kicks and punches at each other. He became worried when he saw you getting hurt from the attacks. 
-You even went as far as to use your abilities against your sibling, throwing their body against the walls like a ragdoll before they used their powers and disabled you. 
-You both eventually lost your weapons and started throwing punches at each other, breaking each other’s bones and trying to kill with raw strength. 
-However, your sibling managed to throw you away, and you were down, groaning and coughing blood from your mouth. 
-Maedhros wanted to run to you, but when your sibling turned their attention upon him and came at them with a sinister grin. Maedhros took up your sword, and your sibling ran right through it. 
-You saw as Maedhros held the blade that ran through your sibling. Your sibling’s black blood slowly dribbled from the steel before they fell backward, sliding off the sword and falling dead on the floor. 
-Maedhros was standing in shock, staring at the corpse of your fake sibling while holding your sword with a shaking hand. 
-When you heard your fake sibling’s servants approaching. You stood up and went to Maedhros, intending to take your sword from his hand. 
-” Maedhros –” You said gently as your hand laid upon his. He looked at you with a frightful expression as his skin turned cold from the touch. “You did nothing wrong. It’s alright,” You comforted, taking the sword from his hand. You laid your other hand on his cheek, making him look you in the eyes. “You did nothing wrong,” You said and backed away.  
-It took a moment for Maedhros to calm down, but before he knew it – you struck your sibling’s corpse right when your sibling’s servants showed around the corner. He was shocked because you were making it look like it was you who killed their master. You were taking the blame for him. 
-When you walked back to him, you gently handled his bleeding stump and muttered something under your breath, which allowed light to glow beneath your fingers, and Maedhros could feel the pain lessen and the wound stitching itself up. 
-He was then taken by surprise when you suddenly embraced him and held his head close to yours. 
-You told him to go to a remote place of your fortress and find his cousin you noticed sneaking in, the one with the golden ribbons. 
-Maedhros knew it was Fingon from your description, but before he could say anything. You promised him you would hold your sibling’s servants back while he escaped and pushed him away, yelling at him to go. 
-He was quick to follow your instructions, and he ran. He only turned for a moment to see you start killing your fake sibling’s servants, taking all the attention on you.  
-He did not want to leave you behind, and it was by luck that he suddenly bumped into his cousin, Fingon. 
-The reunion was short-lived, and Fingon quickly took him away from your fortress. They were quick to run through the mountains, but Maedhros paled when he heard the yells of the yetis and saw them coming toward them.  
-You managed to fight off your sibling’s servants and walked outside to see Maedhros and his cousin running away from the yetis. They would die if you didn’t do something, so you took out your blade and gave yourself a deep wound. 
-The yetis were made to guard your home and prevent anyone from leaving. However, if they smell something wrong with you, they will make you their first priority and stop their task to check on you. 
-You used your powers to enhance the smell of your blood, and it didn’t take long for them to stop and come for you instead, leaving Maedhros and his cousin alone and giving them a chance to escape. 
-You smiled in relief, but you knew their escape would be impossible since Angband was on their way. So, you prayed from the bottom of your heart for Manwe’s help or someone who would help the one you loved to escape. You soon lost consciousness when the yetis came through the door and found you. 
-Maedhros felt dread when he saw the yetis come for you, but he tried to keep going until he and Fingon got surrounded by orcs from Angband. 
-He thought about telling Fingon to leave him so he could buy him some time, but before he could do anything, a great eagle flew down from the sky and took down the orcs. 
-Thorondor helped them mount and flew them away from Angband. Maedhros did not know what to think, and he watched as your fortress got smaller and smaller until it was out of his eyesight, and he returned to his kin. 
- He thought about you as he healed from his injuries, and his brothers questioned him about his time in Angband. He was surprised that no one knew that he was married off to the child of his enemy, but he said no word about it. 
-The more he thought about you, the more anxious he became to know what happened to you after the incident. Deep down in his heart, he wanted you to be alive, but there was a mild chance because no one would survive the anger of a dark lord, so he concluded you were dead. 
-He mourned for you. You were one of the good things that happened, and it felt like he left part of himself when you told him to leave you and your home. 
-He kept quiet about the incident and his marriage because he knew his kin would not take it kindly if they knew about the whole affair.
-They would assume you were like your father and take no other answer. 
-Maedhros tried to live quietly, but he couldn't bring himself to forget you. Not after all you did for him: and your sacrifice to save him. It made him feel undeserving and realize he might have loved you in return. 
-The feeling was like a sword that struck him in the heart, especially when something horrific happened during a battle. The orcs were taunting him and his people, brutally executing prisoners and thralls before them. Maedhros felt helpless that he couldn't do anything to help them, but he had to keep his composure and look strong in front of his people. That was until the orcs caught his attention and threw a severed hand before him. 
-He was confused until he recognized the ring on the hand’s finger – on your finger. The hand in front of him was your hand. 
-He felt sick as it was obviously a gesture of mockery for losing his hand, and he almost couldn’t hold his composure because he couldn’t stop thinking about all the things you suffered in your father’s hands.
-He only allowed himself to break into tears when he returned to his home in Himring when no one would be looking. He held on to your ring, which he had retrieved in secret, and grieved for you as it was clear that you were now truly gone.
Taglist: @heilith​
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