#the elflings at least

[aspiringnexu]

What if the short hair styles are the elf equivalent of 70s mullets?

What if its the fashion for elven men at the time to wear their hair short. It’s the latest thing! It’s what all the younger ones are doing, and Celebrimbor is joining in because yeah he’s not an elfling anymore but he’s allowed to try new styles! And Gil-Galad is rolling his eyes because fashion, ugh, it’ll pass in a few centuries.

#rings of power #the rings of power #elf hairstyles #I love the long luscious locks as much as the next tolkienite #but you have to admit they probably switched it up a few times every millennium #the elflings at least #like Finrod had his hair short in Valinor #maybe he was early to the elf mullet party #Elladan and Elrohir find portraits of Elrond in his short hair phase #and he is mercilessly mocked #he insists it was cool at the time #they are mortified that their dad was the equivalent of a human hippie #what were you thinking ada? #...Durin said it looked nice #really I do want the proper elf hair back next season but I find this explanation very amusing

[whovianofmidgard]

Day 4 – Caranthir – Childhood, Appearance

For @feanorianweek You can also read on AO3

Life in Valinor for someone like Caranthir was an overwhelming existence. His dark eyes never quite got used to the brightness of Laurelin, like most babes usually did after some months. He ran away so fast on his short legs from the clanging of forges and choirs singing, the sounds too loud for his sensitive ears. He screamed and cried when certain fabrics and textures touched his skin, blotchy red patches and rashes forming inexplicably after an hour of wearing new clothes.

Caranthir didn’t like going outside. He especially didn’t like going out for chores. However, Ammë and Atar were busy with their work, and Maglor and Celegorm had their studies, so he was left in Maedhros’ care while he did chores that needed to be done. Like shopping.

Caranthir trotted after his eldest brother, small hand clutching large hand, as they waded through the noisy market. He was mostly being guided by Maedhros, for the elfling was left half-blind from the mid-flowering light of Laurelin. Caranthir alternated between staring down at his feet, squinting with tears obscuring his sight, or just simply closing his eyes.

Maedhros stopped by some vegetable stall, leaving Caranthir to hold on to him and be bored. The swish of fabric caught the edge of his sight, a rich dark purple in colour, yet so thin it let light peek through its weave. Letting go of his brother’s hand, he went closer to the textile stall curiously. He slid his little fingers through the dark fabric, unfortunately it was itchy and burning, but he lifted it over his head.

Caranthir could perfectly see right through it, he could see the market, the elves milling about, everything. The only difference the fabric made was that the light and colours were muted. And most importantly, it didn’t bother his eyes.

“Nelyo, Nelyo!” he bounded over to his brother, purple textile still on his head. “Look, Nelyo! I can see and my eyes don’t hurt!”

Used to his little brothers’ oddities, the strange image Caranthir made didn’t even phase him.

“You can see everything?”

“Uh-huh,” Caranthir nodded.

“And there is no pain at all?”

“Nuh-uh,” Caranthir shook his head. “Well, the fabric is itchy.”

Maedhros looked at his little brother for some time, deep in thought. Then he removed the fabric from Caranthir’s face and after returning it to the stall he led them to different part of the market.

“Come, I have an idea,” he said, stopping in front of a vendor selling glassware.

Maedhros talked with the vendor for a while, then the elf rummaged for something underneath the stall, finally producing a small sheet of glass. Maedhros took it then handed it to Caranthir.

“Try looking through it.”

The glass was almost completely black, but it still let a little bit of light through. He put the glass up against his eyes, and relief flooded him as the stinging sensation abated.

“It doesn’t hurt!” Caranthir exclaimed, his hands fluttering about him in a rare show of joy.

Maedhros ordered a full sheet of coloured glass to be delivered home, and the very next day Caranthir was gifted with dark spectacles that protected him from the light.

-

Caranthir liked sitting with Maglor. The harp had a gentle sound, not too loud, and his brother practicing his scales and harp solos made for enough repetition and predictability that he could read or do his numbers homework in peace.

Maglor’s voice was nice too, but not up close. There needed to be at least two walls dividing them, so his singing didn’t hurt Caranthir’s ears with its loudness. Usually, when Maglor reached the place in his practice where he’d start singing with his harp, Caranthir would pack his books up and leave Maglor’s room for his own.

Noticing the pattern, Maglor once asked his little brother about it, and once hearing the answer he fell into silent contemplation.

The next time they were comfortably doing their own thing in Maglor’s room, his older brother gave him something.

“Try it on and tell me what you hear,” Maglor said, and helped Caranthir put the thing over his head, two padded pom-pom-like balls covering his ears.

“Can you hear me? And is it itchy at all?”

“You’re all muffled but I can hear you a little. Not itchy, but it tickles.”

Maglor just grinned, and later when he started to sing during practice, Caranthir stayed and continued his studies, unbothered by the loud sound.

-

The itchiness he partially figured out on his own, when a bit older Caranthir ironically got into fibre crafts. He now knew which fabrics his skin tolerated and which ones he didn’t, yet from time to time his hands would still turn red with rashes. An occupational hazard when working with all sorts of textiles.

#feanorianweek #feanorian week #caranthir #maedhros #maglor #silmarillion #the silmarillion #silm fic #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing

[sotwk]

The Baker from Lórien (Haldir gen ficlet)

Summary: A visitor from Lórien brings some excitement to the kitchens of the Elvenking's palace.

Word count: 1.1k

Content: Pure fluffy randomness, mother-son relationship, toddler Legolas

Rating: General (no warnings apply)

To Read on AO3: Link

A/N: I wrote this ficlet purely on a whim; I had no plans or strategy for it going in. It could be nonsense, or I could be onto something. XD It's most likely going to stay a random SotWK AU one-shot, but who knows. I pretty much just wanted to finally write any story featuring Haldir, whom I love dearly and firmly believe was one of the most desired bachelors east of the Mountains. Special thanks to my friend @creativity-of-death who inspired the concept of a Baker Haldir long ago!

Headcanons about Haldir in the SotWK AU: Any questions you might have about the background history in this fic would be answered HERE.

The Baker from Lórien

Third Age 246 Spring

Bar Lasgalen, the Palace of the Elvenking

“Down and forward, turn, and fold over. Repeat. Remember to use the heel of your hand--this part, right here.”

The lump of dough felt pleasantly squishy in Legolas’s hands, and only with great self-restraint did the four-year-old elfling manage to resist playing with it like modeling clay, instead of following his instructor’s example. With eyes narrowed in determined concentration, he watched the steadily working hands of the elf across the table from him. After just a minute or so of observation, he began to mimic the brisk kneading motion.

“Yes, good! That is very good.” The visitor from Lórien seemed pleased, albeit surprised, by how quickly the child caught on.  

Legolas beamed at the ellon’s praise, and held the smooth ball of dough up high over his head in triumph. “Is it ready for the oven now?”

“Not quite.” The silver-haired ellon took the dough from Legolas and checked it with a few expert prods of his fingers. “It needs time to rest and rise. An hour at least, although up to three is much better, and then we can reshape it into loaves. Then it must rest again, before it can be baked.” 

“Three hours?!” Legolas exclaimed, already dismissive of whatever other steps came after. “Does bread really take that long to make every time?”

“The loaves should be fresh and hot out of the oven just in time for your Highness’s breakfast.” Legolas watched as his dough ball was placed into a large pan next to five others and covered with a dish cloth.  

“And a delicious breakfast is best preceded by a sound night’s sleep, is it not?” The voice that came from the kitchen doorway made Legolas scramble off his stool. He smiled sheepishly at his nursemaid, Ninniel, as she entered with a knowing smile and firm shake of her head for him.

The older ellon spoke up. “My apologies, Emmë. I should have realized the hour was too late.”

“It’s all right. It appears some valuable learning has been accomplished here, at least.” Ninniel took in the rather comical sight of her grown son towering next to her not-at-all-grown charge, both of them dusted in flour, and felt all her exasperation melt away. She dipped a tea towel into the washing basin and set to work wiping the sticky residue off Legolas’s fingers. 

“Will you come and get me when my loaf is finished baking, Halidr?”

“Well…” Haldir of Lórien glanced hesitantly at his mother. He was still unsure what to make of Thranduil’s sons, who all behaved without any regard or perhaps even awareness of their social rank. Legolas, in particular, had been unabashed in his fascination with Haldir ever since his arrival at Bar Lasgalen. Today was merely the first day of a month-long, overdue visit to his parents, and most of it had passed with the little prince turning up wherever Haldir happened to be, armed with a constant stream of questions. “It really is not my place to--”

“When your bread comes out of the oven, I will wake you to come and have it for  breakfast, with me and Haldir,” Ninniel interjected smoothly. “But the sooner you get to bed, the sooner you can rise refreshed for a new day, yes?”

“That sounds excellent!” Legolas threw his hands up, and wriggled his hips in a little sort of dance. “I shall be back in a few hours, Haldir! Please take care of my bread!” he called out to the bemused elf before bounding out the door. 

“Are you still finding everything all right, dearest?” Ninniel swept a light hand over her son’s broad back. In one touch she could tell Haldir was fairly relaxed, as she had hoped he would gradually become. Her eldest had always been the most serious of her children, and his nature only grew graver as the ages passed and the memories of hard years weighed on him. It had been far too long since his last visit to Eryn Galen, so rarely could he be persuaded to leave his post at the March, and Ninniel hoped the brief holiday away would be restful for his spirit. 

“Yes, everyone here at the palace has been… quite attentive.” Haldir smiled and planted a swift kiss over his mother’s hair. “The prince’s arrival sent them scurrying off, I fear, but I do not think he seemed to mind or notice.”

Ninniel shook her head. “The only thing they were running from was their own embarrassment,” she said. “I will let you return to your work, my love. Legolas and I will be back soon.”

And indeed, as soon as she exited the kitchen, she encountered the gaggle of young kitchen maids waiting in the hall, preparing to re-enter now that the royal Highness had left and gone to bed. 

“Lady Ninniel,” they curtsied to her, appearing only mildly abashed by her witness to their obvious intentions. But this was a small phenomenon Ninniel had grown accustomed to over the years, for it became clear early on that her handsome son elicited rather strong reactions from elleths, often without any encouragement. 

“My lady, if we may…” one of the girls blurted out. “We were wondering… that is, we wanted to make certain… do you know whether or not Lord Haldir…”

“He is not a lord, and he would not appreciate being addressed as one,” Ninniel corrected gently. “And as far as I know, he is not engaged, involved, or taken with anyone at present.” She gazed at the line of hopeful faces and pressed her lips to smother a chuckle. “Any of you are welcome to try and draw his interest, if that is your wish.”

But best of luck, indeed. Ninniel sighed as she departed, leaving the sounds of pitchy giggling behind her as the pack descended on her oblivious son. Whether there was any chance of a maiden in all of the Woodland Realm catching Haldir of Lórien’s eye, much less his elusive heart, she did not know. That hope had certainly not borne any fruit in over a thousand years of matchmaking attempts. But any diversion, any added source of joy outside of his work, his books, or his baking, could only be a good thing. 

Anything beyond that--dare say a betrothal, a marriage, or even a new precious grandchild--was something Ninniel was prepared to be completely surprised with. But a mother will always hope.

For more SotWK Fanfiction: Fanfiction Masterlist

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#sotwk fanfiction #haldir #haldir of lorien #haldir of lothlorien #the hobbit #lotr #tolkien #legolas #thranduil headcanon #greenwood the great #sotwk oc #thranduilion #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #woodland realm #lord of the rings #silvan elves

[nobunsonpesach]

Heyo! Survival Mode Anon here.

Fun fact; the human body /keeps/ the muscles it has, but underneath the fat it gains.

So even tho post-Endorë Finwë is soft and huggable like an elven squishmellow, he probably has, if not all, then at least most of the strength he had in Endorë. That plus all the energy his body now has in the steady food (nourishment) intake, plus the restful sleep, plus the peaceful environment.

Well, considering all that, Finwë is probably physically stronger than he was in Endorë (to the confused terror of his children and fascinated awe of his grandchildren, lmao)

This is me infodumping my Chubby Finwë Headcanons, but also! Playing devil’s advocate for a sketch of Finwë holding an absurd amount of elflings effortlessly 7:D

Please and thank u for the art! (double thanks for the past art I requested, too. Weight Gain as a sign of a Better Environment is my joy).

I must let you know that this was an ABSOLUTE DELIGHT to draw and also headcanon accepted and also I love you and kiss you gently on the forehead for your input because it is wholesome and valid 💖✨😭❤️‍🩹🌌

#fat art #fat elves #chubby elves #silm art #finwe #Finrod #caranthir #Fingon #turgon #curufin #Celegorm #maedhros

[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 13

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the  Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of  Radagast, who is actually the ‘lost’ daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700​​​ @jinlizz-dragondrama​​​ @firelightinferno​​​ @bubbleyukismile @coopsgirl​​​ @achromaticerebus​​​​ @sleepyamygdala​​​   @smalltownbigheart​​​ @qmabailor​​​ @genderfluid-anime-goth​​​, @0chemicalwaste0​​​, @deadunicorn159 @silvercobra​​​​

The silence in the room was deafening as Radagast finished speaking. You stared at him for a very long time, your brow furrowed and your eyes betraying your shock... your hurt. He had lied to you? All these long years? He had not simply adopted a poor orphaned elfling out of the goodness of his heart?

Could this truly be real? Could you actually be... Gil-Galad’s daughter? A princess, of all things?

You thought of the High King then... all those times you had read his history over and over and every time you had felt so, so sad. Could you have known? Something in your soul, at least? Somewhere deep down? You could hardly bear to think about it.

“I...” Was all that seemed to want to come out of your mouth. Your excitement over Thranduil asking to court you had been short lived and, while Radagast had just told you that whole story, he did not name the prince of the Greenwood because he was not a central figure in the tale, your tale... not yet, and you knew the king of this forest as only the Elvenking. You had read many books in your long life but your quiet, secret, sheltered upbringing - and the fact that Radagast had curated a collection very carefully - meant you had never actually learned his name. You still did not know they were one and the same. You still believed Thranduil to simply be a soldier.

“I am sorry, my dear girl, truly I am... but you must understand, I-” Radagast began but he was cut off when you suddenly realised something.

“Uncle, if what you say is true. If you speak honestly... then how can I be standing here?” You looked bewildered all of a sudden. “You said the cradle was hit, the Enchantress killed the baby.”

Radagast shook his head. “No.” He breathed. “No, the child - you - survived. The High King sent for me later, after the... bodies of the queens had been moved and after all the guests had been sent away.” Radagast could remember it as if it was yesterday. Gil-Galad’s pleading eyes, full of shameless tears, his face twisted with an agony that had already penetrated so deep it could never be removed. “You had been injured but not terribly. Not fatally. You were very much alive, though the Enchantress did not know it. He was adamant that no one could ever know. He begged me to sneak you out of Lindon and raise you in secrecy and safety until after your four thousandth year when he...” The wizard’s eyes lowered, flickering to the floor as his voice grew quieter with each next word. “Until the danger of the Enchantress was over and then he... he could come for you.” Radagast’s face was full of regret.

You averted your own gaze and fell silent again for a moment after hearing that. Gil-Galad had died over two thousand years after that day, in the Last Alliance. He never got the chance to come for you. You would never know him and he would never know you.

“Fine, she... I did not die.” You were still having great difficulty equating you and this princess as the same person. “Then what about the curse? It is still in effect, is it not? And you say I must leave here. That I must to go the Elvenking’s Halls. So...” You paused, weighing it up in your mind, but it was all that made sense. “She is here. I am in danger. Yes?”

You were clever, Radagast had always known that. Sheltered and not socialised as well as others may be yes, but intelligent. He had not kept you entirely helpless. You were a gentle soul but you were not useless. “I am afraid so, child.” The wizard said solemnly. “But... fear not. She will not be able to reach you in the halls of the Woodland Realm, this I know. However, if it puts your mind at ease there is a... silver lining, perhaps, though I am a little loath to call it such.”

Your frown only deepened and you reached up to wipe away tears of both frustration and grief as they began to trail down your cheeks. “What?”

“When your father summoned me, he begged me to do something, to remove this awful curse.” He shook his head, his face full of regret. “Alas, I cannot do such a thing. The curse was already in motion, I could not erase it... but I found that I could add something to it, shape it just a little.” He explained. “So I added something of a loophole. You will not die. Should you ever prick your finger on devil’s thorn plant, you will... fall into a deep slumber.”

“Sleep?” You cried, shaking your head. What good would that do? “So I will not die, I will just sleep... forever?” That honestly sounded worse in so many ways. You had images of yourself lying somewhere, numb and blind to the world around you while the years passed and the seasons changed. Unable to think or see or speak or move. A shudder ran up your spine.

Radagast shook his head quickly and held up a hand to try and pause your racing thoughts. “But it will not come to that, child. You will be perfectly safe-”

“But what if I am not!” You could not help but cry out in response, your eyes wide as you looked back at the wizard who had raised you. Your trust in him had not wavered even in the wake of this revelation. “What if something unthinkable happens?!”

Radagast took a small step towards you. “Breathe a moment. All right? Just breathe.” 

After staring incredulously at him, and with some frustration, you eventually gave in and took a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Then you looked expectantly at him, eyebrows raised. “Well?”

Radagast gave you a mildly reproachful look but there was not much fire in it. He understood what you were feeling. “Devil’s Thorn does not grow in this forest. I have made sure of it. However, if the worst should happen - which it won’t! But if it should. There... there is technically a way... to wake up. To break the spell.” Here, he looked quite embarrassed and averted his gaze, fidgeting. 

You narrowed your eyes slightly because you knew that look, but still there was a feeling of hope in you now. “Break it? How? What do you mean?”

Radagast sighed. He simply knew you might not like the thought of it. “It is true love’s kiss. Once the spell is in effect... that breaks it.”

You blinked, staring at him in silence as the words sank in. “I...” No more words escaped you for a few more seconds and Radagast watched your mind working through the facts. “Wait.” You made a face and turned away, shaking your head. “Someone... somebody is expected to kiss me? While I am asleep?”

Radagast cringed a little at the way you put it but he supposed that was the reality of it. He forced an anxious chuckle from his lips. “Ah... yes, yes, I am... afraid so.” He frowned. “Look, I was... there was barely time to... to think, there was a lot of pressure.” He sighed heavily. “Truthfully, my dear... it had to be something that the Enchantress simply... well, does not believe in.” He explained somberly. “So if she ever, ever found out that you lived, and what I had done with her curse... her guard may not be so raised.” 

If there was one thing the Enchantress underestimated, always, it was love in any form. She had underestimated King Oropher’s love of his son above all else (even peace) that kept him from handing the Enchantress what she wanted. She had underestimated Gil-Galad’s love for his daughter too, for he had sacrificed her entirely, broken his own heart further, simply to keep her safe. These were things the Enchantress did not understand. She believed in power. She did not believe in love. Though it was hardly surprising... she had, after all, never experienced such a thing.

There was a lot of information coming at you at once here - so much that it was incredibly difficult to keep up - and for a moment you were quiet again as it all washed over you.

Radagast was quiet too, thinking back to that day, to that moment. When he’d introduced this loophole. He knew how it sounded to you to say that it was a kiss that would wake you but it wasn’t just... any old person who would have been able to get to you to kiss you. It would need to be a genuine love match - the spell, he already knew, would not allow anybody else to pass close enough if their intention was merely to try. It had its own protections in place, that was just how these things worked. His loophole was now working directly with the Enchantress’ curse, they were one and the same. So what would keep you powerless in sleep would also allow you to wake should the right actions be carried out. He did not say anything else about any of it for now, aware that you needed time for it all to settle. He would tell you every little detail you could ever want to know once you were safe in Thranduil’s realm, he decided. 

“I know this is very difficult for you.” He said gently. “I am sorry.”

You sighed, turning back to look at him. You blinked a little helplessly but suddenly you remembered Thranduil in the forest, the love you had felt growing for him since you met him. That was real. True. He could kiss you if you fell foul of a sleeping curse if it was to save your life, you would not be upset. It would work too, there was not a single doubt in your mind that it would. You looked at Radagast again, your eyes shining, but he could already tell what you were about to say - that he must go and fetch this mystery man should you fall victim to the curse.

He shook his head and held up a hand to stop you speaking. “No, stop it. You will not fall to the curse because you will be safe inside the Elvenking’s Halls. This is a fact, you must trust me. She cannot, under any circumstances, get in there.” Truthfully, Radagast also was not sure he believed this Elven man was even true. How could you know what love was, after all? Had he not kept you far too sheltered? He could not be sure and he also could not rule out the fact that it could have all been a trick, some ruse, because the Enchantress had been lurking in these woods for long enough... and he knew already she had made contact with you once. Who was to say she had not been aware of you for longer than he realised?

You sighed but you gave in, nodding. “All right.” Your expression turned glum again as your thoughts turned to the Elvenking. What was he like? You did not much care and you did not want to marry him... you wanted to marry Thranduil.

“Come, child, come,” Radagast’s voice pulled you from your reverie once more. “There is no time to waste, you must gather your things, we must be away at once.”

“At once?” You shook your head, preparing to put up a fuss. It would wait until after tomorrow night, surely? Thranduil was coming then! “But tomorrow! I told him-” 

“No!” Radagast cried and you saw his hand shaking slightly, fingers trembling as they curled around the wood of his staff. You realised then just how afraid he was. How frightened he felt in the knowledge that this Enchantress woman was here, so close to you, and you realised too that he could not actually protect you... and that that fact terrified him.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat and your eyes looked unhappy but you nodded as you turned and hurried through to your bedroom to throw some of your most beloved possessions into a bag. Your mind was all over the place, your thoughts tangled and twisted, in complete disarray. Gil-Galad was your father. This... feeling that you had always had inside of you... this... this sorrow. This almost longing whenever you read about him. It had meant something all along.

You tried to push all of these thoughts from your mind as you threw everything you needed into the bag and then slung it over your shoulder. It was all too much at once and you wondered how you would ever come to terms with this. With one last look around your room, you turned and went rushing back to Radagast, trying to conceal the deep sorrow in your heart.

He saw it anyway. 

His sharp eyes softened and he set aside his staff to draw you into a hug. You hesitated only for a second before you wrapped your arms around his middle, nestling into his large, long robes and hiding your face against his shoulder. You weren’t angry at him, not really. You were sad and confused and you did not want to leave home and be kept in the confines of the Woodland Realm. When would you be able to walk beneath the trees of the forest again? See all your little animal friends? You needed your freedoms! The clearing you so loved!

Still, you could not really protest and deep down you knew that this was the only way to keep you safe... alive. Or at least awake. 

So after a few more moments, the two of you parted and you slowly followed him outside to his faithful rabbits. You got onto the sled with him and the large bunnies were off like a shot, carrying you and their wizard master through the forest, towards the Elvenking’s Halls.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfic #the hobbit x reader #sleeping beauty

[echo-bleu]

shine still brighter (1/?)

On AO3. Deaf!Artanis bullet-point fic.

Here is yet another fic that I started thinking it would be 2k tops (I have almost 5k and haven't even started the main plot). It started as a mix of this art prompt I did, and a post I can't find now that went something like "it's a good thing that Galadriel hated Fëanor's gut, because if they had pooled resources they would totally have taken over the world." And I wanted to write Fëanor being a passionate linguist. The AO3 link has a Quenya name primer if you're confused.

(cw for mentions of difficult birth and post-partum, and mentions of ableism)

Artanis is born in pain and fear.

Her spirit is nearly as bright as Fëanáro’s. She’ll grow as strong and smart and stubborn as her half-uncle, but her birth also takes almost as much of her mother’s vital energy.

Eärwen doesn’t die. But she doesn’t recover very well, either. She’s very, very tired, too tired to really connect to her daughter for a long while.

Everyone is comparing it to Míriel and Fëanáro, and nobody is happy about that, Fëanáro least of all. Eärwen isn’t anything like Míriel. She shouldn’t get to have the spotlight like that.

Finwë is understandably focused on taking care of his youngest son and granddaughter for a while, which just makes it worse.

Arafinwë is very scared for Eärwen and overprotective of Artanis. Her brothers are already enamoured of her but also a little traumatized by the whole thing.

The baby is very cute and very awake, grabbing everything within reach in her tiny hands and pulling. Especially if it’s bright or moving.

Because of all the complications and worry over Eärwen, no one realizes that there’s something distinctly different about her.

Finwë is the one who sees it first.

Mostly because everyone else is dazzled by the strength of her fëa, but Finwë raised Fëanáro and he knows how to look past that.

Artanis has many of the same traits as Fëanáro that everyone worried about when he was a baby: she won’t look people in the eye, she sometimes screams when they pick her up, and sometimes screams even louder when they put her down (and her screams are the loudest since Makalaurë). She’s extremely picky about eating, and it doesn’t help that her mother doesn’t have the energy to feed her.

Those are all fine, Finwë knows how to handle that. Half of Fëanáro’s sons were and are like that too, and his other granddaughter.

No, the thing he notices is that singing entirely fails at settling her.

Fëanáro had a hard time falling asleep, but he would always settle with his favourite lullabies.

Artanis doesn’t even seem to hear them.

Actually, Artanis doesn’t seem to hear. Anything.

By that point she’s old enough that she should be starting to speak, but the only sounds she produces are wordless screams and laughter.

No music at all. Even the most tone-deaf of elflings know how to carry a tune before they learn how to speak.

Deafness is pretty much unheard of for the Calaquendi. There are some hard-of-hearing elves, but they mostly get on fine with speaking louder.

(The Moriquendi have Deaf elves. There have always been Deaf elves, but there’s something about Valinor’s perfection… Well, it’s partly that there haven’t been that many births in Valinor yet, and most of the disabled elves didn’t make it to Valinor for various reasons, from dying on the way to being scared that they weren’t welcome (the Valar were maybe not as clear as they should have been and some things got lost in translation). And some of that misunderstanding carried over into elves taking babies who are a little too different in Lórien to be “healed”. They’re never heard of again. So the number of visibly disabled elves in Tirion is very small.)

(Estë and Irmo take great care of the disabled elves and they find their own community together, but they don’t quite understand why the Calaquendi just leave babies on their doorstep. Some of them need medical care, yes, but many don’t.)

(Fëanáro would probably have ended up in Lórien if he hadn’t been the Crown Prince. And he knows it. The one time someone suggested that some of his sons might benefit from Estë’s help, he threw a fit so violent that no one ever spoke of it again.)

Survivor’s bias (the elves who made it through the Great Journey were the strongest one, and thus we, as a people, are strong and cannot be anything else) led to a good deal of ableism. Finwë has rather vague memories of disabled elves he knew growing up, but mostly as “they weren’t strong enough to make it”.

He’s already certain that Artanis, like Fëanáro, is absolutely strong enough to make it through anything. Also Míriel’s death after she made it with him through the Great Journey rather skewed his own perspective on that.

All this to say that he has some cognitive dissonance there, but his reaction to discovering Artanis’s deafness is more of less the same as his reaction to Fëanáro’s autism:

“Hey, Arafinwë, so your daughter can’t hear, but the good news is that she’s really smart and strong and also a princess, so all we have to do is teach her to be great at everything so people won’t notice.”

Arafinwë, blinking: “What.”

He’s not at all sure about this, but he’s also very much in over his head wrangling four kids on his own and caring for his ailing wife (Maitimo babysits when he can, and Findaráto is old enough to take care of himself most of the time, but it’s still a lot).

He agrees wholeheartedly that he won’t take his daughter to Lórien, because he’s very much not over being terrified of having to visit his wife’s body there and he’s not losing his daughter.

But it’s also a lot to take in and he doesn’t know what the right decision is for Artanis.

He’s also not entirely certain that trusting his father with it is the best idea.

Eärwen is not really well enough to help, and Olwë is definitely not helping by making remarks about Artanis’s strangeness every time he sees her, and maybe it would do her good to seek out help, and also Arafinwë should move their whole family to Alqualondë, can’t you see how much good it would do to Eärwen?

Ñolofinwë has enough work trying to wrangle his absolute terror of a daughter, who is barely more than a toddler and has taken a liking to Tyelkormo of all people.

Fëanáro won’t talk to him. Not that Arafinwë values his opinion. He’s not Ñolo, forever chasing after their half-brother who hates them. He’s not.

Findis thinks he should take Artanis straight to Lórien because a baby taking so much energy from its mother is not natural, and just look at how Fëanáro turned out, is that what you want your daughter to be like? (Arafinwë thinks that it’s unfair. Fëanáro’s a little intense, sure, and his dislike is hard to bear, but he’s not that bad.)

Lalwen really hates babies.

He is not close to his sisters-in-law.

As the youngest son of the King, he doesn’t really have close friends.

Maitimo is incredibly good with Artanis, but he’s barely an adult, he definitely can’t help with this.

Findaráto unconditionally adores his sister and is very distressed about it all.

“But Atar, why does it matter if she can’t hear? She’s perfect as she is!”

“How are we going to communicate with her, though?”

Findaráto takes his hand and leads him to little Artanis, who is playing with blocks on the floor.

“Hey,” he tells her, sitting down across from her. “Are you hungry?” Saying that, he pats his belly, and then mimics eating with his fingers.

Artanis claps her hands and nods, squealing. She puts her fingers in her mouth, twice, and then holds up her arms to be picked up.

“See?” Findaráto says, turning back to his father. “It’s easy.”

These words stay with Arafinwë. Artanis doesn’t go to Lórien, Eärwen recovers little by little, and it is, indeed, easy enough to find out when Artanis is hungry or sleepy or wants something with simple signs.

Osanwë with little children doesn’t really work past sharing basic emotions, it’s not really communicative.

Finwë valiantly tries to get her to speak. Arafinwë isn’t actually sure if she can’t or if she just won’t.

He feels like trying to speak when you can’t hear yourself, and you don’t even know what words sound like, is probably very hard work. Playing with blocks in understandably a lot more fun.

Findaráto is Artanis’s favourite person by far, and they’ve become good at communicating without words, though no one else can understand them when they do. They’re using a mix of basic hand signs and facial expressions. She follows him everywhere, and he lets her ride on his back when she’s tired.

Maitimo, who has five brothers and a father who regularly have silent days (Makalaurë has never had a silent day in his life), is also very good at figuring out what she wants and needs, though they don’t really communicate beyond that.

But Artanis is growing up, and increasingly frustrated at not being able to communicate her thoughts. Her system with Findaráto is good for simple things, but she’s having complex thoughts now.

She’s also old enough to know that she’s different, and to know that everyone else is talking over her.

She’s not going to take that affront lying down.

She turns into a terror.

Not an Írissë-style terror, running away and climbing trees and biting people. No, she’s an Artanis terror. A very focused terror.

She rejects anybody who doesn’t understand her. And since she has no real mean of expressing herself in an understandable way, that’s everybody.

She’s figured out that screaming very loudly in someone’s ear is a good way of getting them to go away.

The Arafinwëans start wearing earplugs while at home.

It gives them a new appreciation of Artanis’s plight, when they try to speak to each other over her screams and can’t understand anything, but it’s also very tiring.

Artanis, in her child’s logic, rejects Findaráto the strongest. Because he’s the one who makes the most effort and he still can’t solve this for her and it’s so unfair.

Findaráto takes it very hard and is depressed for two years straight. He’s been so focused on Artanis that he never really reckoned with the trauma of his mother almost dying and his sister nearly being given to Estë, so it suddenly hits him and now Arafinwë has two children to worry about.

Angaráto and Aikanáro take to spending a strange amount of time with Carnistir and Arafinwë doesn’t like much the sounds of Maitimo’s reports on his sons’ behaviour. But he doesn’t really have the bandwidth to deal with it.

Eventually Arafinwë has had enough. Everyone is trying to give him advice and absolutely none of it is useful. People in Tirion are whispering about Artanis’s behaviour, and what it says about her parents.

(Fëanáro, for all his intensity, was actually a very quiet child, and his eccentricities were dismissed as a result of his motherlessness. Finwë’s capabilities were never put to doubt.)

He only wants the best for Artanis, it’s just that he can’t figure out what that is. His daughter is hurting and it tears him apart.

(Eärwen agrees with him, but she’s gone to stay at her parents’ for a while because all the screaming and stress were making her relapse.)

What he knows is that a) the problem is mostly communication and b) what has worked the best so far was Findaráto using gestures.

What they need is some way to make the gestures more complex.

They need a language made out of gestures.

Who do we know who’s into linguistics and invented their entire writing system?

Arafinwë takes his courage in both hands, fully anticipating a disaster, and goes to talk to Fëanáro.

“You want me to invent an entire language of gestures for your daughter,” Fëanáro blinks.

“Yes. And then I want you to teach it to me.”

“...do you have any idea how much work that would be?”

“Probably not, but I know you’re the only one who can do it.”

He expects Fëanáro to say he’s too busy to do anything for people who aren’t even really his family, or to go on a rant about Arafinwë’s thoughtlessness or his entitlement or something.

Instead, all he says is, “Come back in three weeks. And bring her along.”

Stay tuned for part 2!

All of my Disabled Tolkien Characters posts.

#galadriel #feanor #finarfin #finrod #silmarillion #the silmarillion #silm fic #tolkien #tolkien fic #echo's fanfiction #I don't actually know where I'm going with this xD #disabled tolkien characters #shine still brighter

[thewickedspinster]

Children of the Forest (Thranduil x Reader)

a/n: shout out to OP who requested this, i feel you at a deep level, and it's something not talked about often. sorry it's just a blurb, but i thought the conversation most important. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: afab!reader, gn pronouns, childbearing, children, reader who isn't comfortable with children

requested by @pebble-bb

Children of the Forest

The sounds of raucous, childish laughter bounced off the walls, drawing Y/N's attention downwards, towards where the young elves had just been let out of their scripting lessons. From where they stood, on Thranduil's balcony over the underground waterfall in the halls of Felegoth, they could see this small bit of elven life. Each day, the children ran from the small glen which housed desks, books, and all other bits and bobs required for teaching. They ran in pairs and triplets down the winding paths, deeper into the caves, off to their own families for quiet nights spent studying and laughing.

Before the elflings had disappeared around the bend, Y/N had turned from their position on the terrace, turning back towards their chambers. Their brows were furrowed, their mouth downturned.

"What troubles you, my love?" Came a familiar baritone. Thranduil had woken and was leaning on an elbow amidst Y/N's sheets. He had taken to more casual intimacies as of late, including moving his formal affairs around to nap in the afternoons. Ridiculous as it was, Y/N nearly blushed to think that the Elvenking was doing this for them.

"Nothing," they replied, perching on the edge of the bed. In truth, they'd hardly realized they looked troubled, they were so deep in thought.

"Do not lie to me," he murmured, drawing their arm through his hand and pulling it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the wrist. "You have that look you get when you're about to scold Legolas."

Legolas was an elf grown now, but an errant prince who shirked his duties. Despite that, he was respectful and loving towards Y/N as his father's dearest friend - and lover.

But the thought of how Legolas had been when he was young brought the truth bubbling out.

"I was never any good with him."

"Nonsense," Thranduil scoffed.

"No, truly, Thranduil," they insisted, pulling their wrist from his grasp. "He did not like me when he was young, and I had no knowledge on how to raise him. Especially once his mother passed."

It had been uncomfortable for Y/N, to say the least, when Thranduil's queen had passed, leaving them to shoulder the brunt of Thranduil's grief. And, as his closest friend, to shoulder the burden of helping to raise his young son. Legolas had grown quickly, and was often away, but it had not been easy.

"But you did beautifully. You're always quite confident with children."

Y/N grimaced. They had been keeping this truth from him long enough, letting him believe what he wanted to believe. But they were spending their nights in his bed, and his afternoons in theirs. It was time he understood the truth of it.

"I do not enjoy children, Thranduil," they said, perhaps a bit too bluntly. Their tone softened. "I am not good with them, and I do not want children of my own."

If it was possible for the Elvenking to be stunned, he was now. Y/N watched as he went through his thoughts, schooling his emotions to approach them in the way that he always had. He had more patience with them than anyone, and still, he had to work hard to keep it now.

"I do not understand. How could you not want children?"

Their fingers played at the sheets, eyes averted as they spoke. "Your son is your heir. I would not want to complicate that. But beyond that... I do not think my body or soul fit to bear children. Or raise them. Or to be near them. I could not be a teacher, as the one who works just beyond our walls." Y/N turned to look beyond the terrace, as if they could see the children running below. "I used to wish I felt that pull towards elflings. But I cannot lie to myself; I do not feel it. I cherish them as our future, but I do not want to make them my present."

Thranduil was quiet, but he stilled their frenetic movements with a large, warm hand. His knuckles, his fingers, were strong as they held them still, contemplating. Y/N relaxed, enough for him to pull them down towards him. In an uncharacteristic show of tenderness, he pressed his lips to their forehead.

"When you explain it like that, I suppose I can quite agree."

A shocked laugh left their lips. "However do you mean?"

"Legolas is my son, whom I made out of duty to my people," he mused, running a thoughtful thumb down the side of their neck. "I did not bear him, but I raised him. I have little patience for him. And could you imagine me as a teacher?"

They laughed truly now. "What an idea."

Enraptured by his silvery irises, they were unsurprised when he leaned up to kiss them, deeply, languidly. Tenderly. Against Y/N's lips, he murmured, "I could never fully understand, meleth nîn, but I do not mind. I am happiest now, and could not ask for anything more of you."

Relief, sweet and warm, flooded them, and they returned his kiss, threading their fingers through his loose hair. No more needed to be said on the matter. Thranduil had always appreciated Y/N for who they were, and had accepted them with a patience and love that neither of them had ever known. The Elvenking hardly knew he'd had it in him to be so kindhearted, until he'd met Y/N.

"You ought to get back to your throne, my king," Y/N finally whispered, their warming the shell of his ear. He nipped at them playfully, but slowly rose from the bed and held out a hand to them. They took it, rising beside him to kiss him once more. "Come with me. I need my voice of reason today."

Together, the two descended to guard and guide the children of the forest, the future of the grey elves. And they were content.

#lotr #thranduil x reader #the hobbit #tolkein #lotr fanfic #thranduil x reader blurb #thranduil x reader fluff

[enullarts]

CW // TMPREG / MPREG / fandom: baldings gayte

consumed by thoughts of halsin expecting triplets ok. He calls them his cubs, hes a big ol' papa bear. He wittles three little ducklings. Tav has always been feral about his partner but something about watching Halsin fill out MORE with each passing month as he grows to accommondate their babies is driving them absolutely FERAL.

Halsin is also Extremely Feral during the entire pregnancy, insatiable as much as Tav is. They still keep their relationship open, Tav with Shadowheart, Halsin with Astarion, and all 4 are looking forward to the arrival of the new elflings (Astarion would never admit it though).

They find a secluded spot in the forest when Halsin reaches full term and then, as he usually says, he lets nature take over. Halsin's labor is long but with three partners doting over his every want and need it makes for a manageable early labor at least. Astarion (bless his heart) is not much help, but Tav and Shadowheart guide him through it too.

Labor doesn't feel like pain, Halsin has known pain and it's not what this is. This is intensity, urgency, something primal from the depths of his soul. He leans into the feeling deeply, cherishing it even if it knocks the wind out of him sometimes. A natural birth surounded by his loved ones in his element? What more could he ask for after all those years alone.

The first child, a massive chunky elf babe of a thing, arrives just after midnight and Halsin's all but beaming down at them before he's pushing again and delivering the second one, nearly as big as their sibling, just before sunrise.

The third child, a small thing, taking more after tav than anything, is born after sunrise. After which Halsin's energy is completely spent. Yet he still finds it in him to wildshape into his bear form to cuddle the babies warmly. The 3 partners beaming down as they all lie down to rest together too. It won't be long before they'll be running around after these new three trouble makers, but for now, all is peaceful

#en hush

[literainey]

hii! could you please write some headcanons for Legolas being with a reader (gn) that's like a mother to the hobbits? makes sure they have everything, that they eat etc.

if not, thank you either way:)

──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ pairing: legolas x gn!reader

──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ notes: thank you for the request! such a cute idea, hope you enjoy!

◦ you had no knowledge of the existence of hobbits prior to your involvement with the fellowship

◦ so, it was a challenge to warm up to them—considering the stark differences between them and your own kind

◦ there were many exchanged glances of amusement ( and sometimes admittedly, slight annoyance ) between you and legolas as they ( specifically Merry and Pippin ) broke into song and dance, or questioned you both with astonishment at your general lifestyle differences—notably your 'lack' of daily meals

◦ yet you soon found them charming and sweet. admiration washing over you as you eventually grew closer throughout the journey, tenderly adoring their resilience as they hurdled through days often filled with tireless travel, sometimes an encounter with unfriendly armed foes, and scarce opportune for second breakfast

◦ they were in desperate need of proper combat training, leading you to begin rousing them from sleep once dawn settled into the air, placing daggers and swords in their grasps for routinely lessons of swordsmanship

◦ of them all, Frodo was the least to air his grievances despite bearing the weight of all of arda on his shoulders, and you wanted to offer any help that would lessen his burdens through providing words of encouragement that brought a small smile to his lips, sharpening his sword, and even offering to help carry his load of the travel supplies ( aka Legolas swooping in to say "I've got it, meleth nîn" [ 'my love' ] )

◦ at this point, you've developed a soft spot for them and are borderline helicopter parenting:

◦ offering any extra sips of water from your canteen and beckoning them to eat their fill, sacrificing your own cloak for an extra blanket as they sleep ( which meant Legolas had to sacrifice his own for you, of course ), all while maintaining a constant watchful eye over them

◦ you hadn't given much thought to the expression of your parental behaviour until it becomes quite noticeable to the rest of the fellowship—after you discovered the secret bet Legolas and Gimli held on the number of times you would urge the hobbits to be careful throughout the day ( Gimli won the third time in a row )

◦ the daggers you shot at legolas upon finding out as the dwarf inevitably was unable to contain his boasting for winning over a 'pointy-eared elfling'

"the look on the elf's face!" Gimli shouts as he squawks with laughter before being silenced by your eyes that turn to cast upon him disappovingly

◦ this does not hinder you at the slightest from looking out for the hobbits, as you continued to dedicate yourself to caring for and protecting them in any way you can

#‧ ִ ۫ ༄ ˳ ⟡ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 : #legolas #legolas x reader #lotr x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #legolas headcanons #lotr headcanons #legolas greenleaf #legolas thranduilion #legolas x gender neutral reader

[bralesscommie]

My Tolkien Headcanons

Silmarillion and Lotr characters

Elrond

Has PTSD, possibly c-PTSD from the Third Kinslaying, losing his parents and growing up with the people who took away his home

Has sensory issues, mostly a hard time with crowds and loud noises (also for PTSD reasons), but also really hates some textures

Pretty bad migraines from foresight and tension headaches from anxiety to the point where a couple of times a month he can't work

Is a workaholic

Is bisexual

He/they in an elf way

Isn't white, it's kind of hard to tell his exact race with his very mixed genetics

Maglor

Has anxiety from growing up in the chaotic house of Fëanor

Is depressed

Uses music as escapism

He/him but doesn't mind he/they

Is pretty fluid sexuality wise

Maedhros

C-PTSD from being chained to a mountain and also like everything else that's ever happened to him

Has depression

Chronic pain in his back and shoulder, as well as phantom pain in his amputated arm

Has some kind of personality disorder

Is gay

He/him

Eärendil

Has anxiety from and is traumatized by the escape from Gondolin

Was not ready to be a dad

Straight

He/him

Is definitely not white

Elwing

Is traumatized by the Second Kinslaying, possibly PTSD

Bi-curious

She/her, has thought about adding a they to her pronouns

Eowyn

Has anxiety and depression

Has anger issues but is learning healthy coping mechanisms

Has trauma from SA, and does her best to spread awareness

Enjoys being butch in everyday life, but will dress up feminine once in a while

Is bisexual

She/her

Is happy being poly, but doesn't mind being in monogamous relationships

Arwen

Had really bad anxiety after Celebrían sailed, but is doing much better, though she still has occasional tension headaches

Sensory issues like her dad

Also similarly to her dad, she is mixed

Sapphic, but is open to very few men

She/her

Aragorn

Pretty mentally stable, at least considering everyone else around him

Brown

Is bisexual with a preference for women

Does not care about his pronouns, but is cis in some weird way?

Legolas

Was born in an era with very few elflings, and as an only child hasn't had the opportunity to socialize at all

Rich whiteboy (gender neutral) privilege that they don't entirely recognize

Probably not neurotipical

Fluid sexuality, doesn't really like labels, but if asked persistantly will say he has a preference for men

He/she sometimes they

Bilbo

Has ADHD and anxiety

Struggles with ring addiction

Is acespec and gay

They/he

Sam

AuDHD

Has low self-esteem, imposter syndrome, and anxiety from his childhood with the Gaffer

Is brown

Pansexual

Officially he/they but prefers they/them

Frodo

Is autistic

Has chronic pain post quest

Has chronic fatigue post quest

Possibly transmasc, he/they or he/him

Gay

If you would like to see other characters, or more on some characters, my ask box is always open

#Leo's tolkien musings #lord of the rings #lotr #silm #silmarillion #lord of the rings headcanons #silmarillion headcanon #elrond #maglor #maedhros #earendil #elwing #eowyn #arwen #aragorn #legolas #disabilty headcanon #lgbtq headcanon #racial headcanon #bilbo #sam #frodo

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

So the question (in my au) is: did thranduil make his older children help raise his younger children.

And the answer is no.

Like, sure they babysat every once in a while, and he taught them how to properly interact with babies and elflings, but they were by no means saddled with their younger siblings.

90% of the child care was done by Thranduil, and the remaining 10% was split up between family members and special occasions.

Because why would he saddle his older kids with their younger siblings?

Yeah, his older kids were always at least 1000 years older than their new bby sibling, making them old enough to be adults and care for children.

But that’s exactly the point: they’re adults. With jobs. That they can’t just foster onto someone els just because.

Besides, Thranduil signed up to have another kid and raise them on their own, but his other children didn’t sign up to be caretakers.

#good dad thranduil #good single dad thranduil #trans thranduil #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr elves #the hobbit #legolas #thranduil #4 silvan sibs au #house of edireth

[elficially-done-with-life]

hi, I just wanted to pop in and say I'm so happy to see that someone else understands how important soft!Celegorm is ❤️ I would love to see more of him if you feel up to it, hcs with a spouse and/or kiddos maybe? Honestly happy with anything soft though 🥰

A/N: Thank you so much!!!! I LOVE soft!Celegorm and I am so happy you do too. When I saw this ask I was so happy🥰. Writing about him again was a lot of fun. I went with the Reader being Celegorm's daughter! Hope you enjoy!!!!!😊

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡ Celegorm would be really protective, whether you were confident or shy

♡ But he wouldn't be protective in a oppressing way, but in a worried way

♡ He wouldn't forbid you to do something just because he doesn't like it, but would instead teach you how to defend yourself or talk to you about it in detail. The last thing he wants is for you to feel oppressed

♡ If you were a shy person, he would constantly tell you how proud he is of you and try to boost your self-confidence in other ways too

♡ Before he had a daughter, he only wove flower crowns for his wife, now he does the same for you and it makes him overjoyed to see how happy you are about the colourful flowers

♡ If you were ever to doubt yourself because you don't have any special abilities like the others in your family, he would do everything he could to show you that you are more special to him than the others even without them

♡ Would never let you think he is disappointed in you

♡ If you're sad about something for a long time, he'll persuade you to go for a walk in the woods until it gets dark, then you'll lie down in a clearing and stare at the stars while you talk about your feelings

♡ Celegorm has noticed over time that you open up to him better when he opens up to you first

♡ If he's ever completely absorbed in his duties, he would always try to spend at least an hour a day with his family, because you are most important to him

♡ Is very careful when he takes you hunting for fear you might not want to come along in the future

♡ His biggest fear is that one day you might be sad that he is your father and not one of his brothers

♡ When you were a newborn, he couldn't stop looking at you, he was so enchanted, he stood next to you for hours while you slept with a gentle smile and shining eyes

♡ Afraid of the responsibility he now bears, but couldn't wish for a better feeling than that of being an Atar

♡ Especially when you lie on his chest as a newborn and sleep as he strokes your still short hair

♡ Is himself more emotional than many people think, and when he realised that you seemed to have inherited this from him, he always tries to show you that you could talk to him about anything

♡ When you were a smaller elf, he stopped going into the forest to hunt and took you with him to show you the nature instead

♡ You aren't afraid of any animal, because they always remind you of your Atar

♡ Only when you were older did he go hunting again, but he rarely stayed away for more than two days unless you or his wife accompanied him

♡ Because of his closeness to Curufin, you and Tyelpë grew up inseparable and practically like siblings

♡ Celegorm is very affectionate, which is why he always hugs you and gives you a kiss on the brow whenever he comes home, no matter how briefly he's been away

♡ When you were younger and you were in the forest together, you always sat on his shoulders

♡ Loves tickling you, especially when you were a smal elfling, because as long as you were laughing, all was right with the world

♡ Always tries to hide from you when he's feeling bad, but when you realise and give him comfort and tell him you love him, he feels better straight away

♡ If you ever have a romantic relationship later on, he wouldn't try to scare the person away but get to know them better, after all, if the person makes you happy, than he is happy for you

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#celegorm #soft celegorm #celegorm x reader #celegorm x daughter!reader #celegorms daughter #x reader #tolkien x reader #tolkien #elves x reader #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #silm x reader #fluff #feanorians

[sotwk]

SotWK OC Spotlight: Prince Turhir Thranduilion

Born in Third Age 37, the second son and child of Elvenking Thranduil and Elvenqueen Maereth. 

His name means “Victorious Master” in Sindarin. 

Towering at 7 feet, 6 inches, he is not only the tallest member of Thranduil’s family, but he is the tallest of all elves born in the Woodland Realm, in all of its history. (For reference, Thranduil is 7 feet, 3 inches, and the other Thranduilions are all less than 7 feet.)

As a child, Turhir had difficulty making friends with elflings close to his age. Since he was always much bigger and physically stronger, even from infancy, it was hard for him to play normally with them. His size and his more somber nature also made his childhood peers uncomfortable around him--and it was difficult enough to relate to a prince!

As a result, Turhir was rather lonely in childhood and spent most of his time with his mother, his older brother Mirion, and his tutors.

Otherwise, he spent his alone time reading and thus grew up into an avid reader. He especially enjoys narrative poems, and became an eloquent writer and poet himself. 

He is a skilled carpenter and builder who helps construct community buildings in his spare time.

He is a member of the very exclusive guild of Greenwood woodcutters--laborers who fell trees, which is a highly restricted and regulated practice.

Turhir is a horsemaster and was the primary trainer of the arroch breed that existed only in Greenwood (discussed in this post). He had a close relationship with the ancient ancestors of the Rohirrim who once dwelt near Greenwood.

Moodboard credit: @alicent-targaryen (Thank you again!). Fancast for Turhir: Sam Heughan

But the talent Turhir is most famous for, by far, is his battle prowess, which is discussed in this post. Thranduil noticed his son’s martial abilities very early on and persuaded the reluctant Elvenqueen to let their son begin training with Master Trainer Ivenil before he had properly come of age.

Turhir carries the official title of the King’s Champion, and would be called on to fight for the crown and kingdom if single combat is required. 

Although Turhir loves tournaments, especially jousting, his size and skill give him too large an advantage over his opponents. It has been deemed hazardous for him to participate in these types of competitions, so he is usually left only to spectate.

Occasionally, he is able to publicly demonstrate his skills by competing against his own father and brothers in special events limited within the royal family. 

His Royal Highness Turhir’s regency in north-western Greenwood (the province he governs) is seated in Thangail (“shield-fence” in Sindarin), one of the realm’s most recently established cities, built to house the largest military base in the kingdom. 

Turhir is the closest in personality with his father, but Thranduil tends to be hardest on him compared to his other sons. Turhir is thus closer to his mother and is the most protective of her. 

Turhir considers Mirion and Arvellas his closest friends in the world, and witnessing both their deaths nearly drove him to insanity. 

Although he is very noble and good-hearted, Turhir is the most prone to being corrupted by Darkness in his family, and Sauron himself grew aware and took interest in this.  

Much thanks again to @cheryl-of-kangsu for making this request!

So far, Turhir has drawn the least amount of interest among the Thranduilion Princes, which is not necessarily surprising to me, since that's how it would probably be in "real Middle-earth life". You might not like him at first glance, but once you get beneath the layers, there's a lot to admire there. He's an excellent hero for the "enemies to lovers" trope, and is a terrific Mr. Darcy archetype.

Also, I don't write and don't plan to write smut for the Thranduilions, but if there was ever a great leading man for that sort of thing among Thranduil's sons, Turhir would be my endorsed candidate. Just a creator's opinion. ;)

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[tiredlostwriter]

On getting kidnapped by your childhood monsters and growing up with them

Elwing hated the feanorians. They were the very monsters of her childhood's stories, greedy and traitors to their own kind. And for this reason, as a lot of parents tend to do when they warn their children of the monsters who might be hiding under their beds, she told her sons about the feanorians and their fiery hearts, about their bloody hands and the cruel legends of old of cities covered in ashes. 

But sometimes stories stay just that, stories, meant to scare the youngest in the warm summer evenings and letting them know how safe they are hidden his their parent's arms.

The story of the seven sons of Feanor had no such moral, it came with a warning and the acrid taste of smoke.

And so, the day the feanorians layed waste on their city, the monsters on the handwritten pages of their children books took life, and in mere hours, blood was flowing in the streets, red ink for this last chapter of peace in the twin's life.

And when the door of their small house by the sea slammed open, letting in a stranger carrying two identical swords dipped in red, and with eyes so bright they seemed to glow in the dim evening night, they froze.

It was a new kind of fear they learned then, hearing their mother cry out, a sound so shrill it was barely human. She clutched her necklace with wide eyes backing towards the window and, to the sounds of the frantic beatings of their hearts, pulsing so loudly in their ears it felt like drumming, she went through it.

Then, at least, the stranger turned back to them, his burning eyes wide and lost. And still the twins didn't dare to move.

There was little they understood other than the terrifying certitude that their mom was gone, she had left them and the screams outside had abided.

They were utterly alone if not for the looming figure, still standing in the doorframe.

"Kanno", the name came from outside in a harsh scream and made the stranger turn his head, his hair coming unbound by the mouvement and spilling on his armour like black ink.

Elros noticed first the blood trickling from the unbound braid and falling on the flooring in fat sluggish drops. But before he could share the information with his brother, a second stranger entered their home.

And with him came the tears, for they couldn't ignore anymore the certitude that had started to build in them. No elda other than the dreaded eldest son of Feanor stood so tall nor bore unruly red hair and a single left hand.

And they understood also who the first of the stranger was when he leaned against Maedhros Feanorion upon his entry into the room, as themselves leaned against each other in wariness.

They were alone, they were crying, and the bloodied twin swords now hidden in their owner's scabbard seemed like a cruel foresight.

As they gripped each other's hand thighly and fought against the shacking wracking their whole frames, the feared brothers before them lauched into a heated discussion in a language they couldn't comprehend.

Later they were collected by guards and thrown on horses, they tried hard to fight them, scratching and biting, but Feanor's eldest turned toward them and rasped out, cold as ice and as biting :

"It's us or the orcs, elflings, choose wisely", and it wasn't for the fear of orcs that the twins relented, but because they didn't wanted to discover the kind of punishment the twisted minds their mother had described could come up with.

Months passed in ever cold Himring, and to the twin's surprise, no horrible punishment had befallen them yet.

They had their own room and beds, were fed, and never did the lords who first brought them here laid their hands on them. At first they didn't saw much of them, but one day Maglor came into the room they seemingly dedicated to their education, mainly dispensed by Erestor, who although strict was always kind to them, and started the slow process of teaching them the intricacies of his songs. Later, it was a stern Maedhros who joined their daily classes when he took on himself their teaching of politics and laws as it is fit for princes to receive.

And like this, they fell into a routine of gentle teachings and patient words. Soon their shaking stopped around them, and the tears dried, even the too bright eyes of the brothers didn't scared them as much as they once did and slowly became a welcome sight in the dark stone corridors of the fortress.

Long was passed the terror of the first weeks during which they sough every hiding spots of the grim fort and learned in their panic the rythms of the footsteps of every one of its inhabitants, eager as they were to huddle to the relative safety of the space under their beds in the occasions in which they recognised the brisk pace of Maedhros's long strides, or the nearly silent whisper of Maglor's footfall on the wooden floors.

And slowly, after acceptance came affection, for the stories told by their mother were erasing into the colorful blurry of their early youth, and replaced by Maglor's lulling voice when he sang them to sleep or the reassuring presence of Maedhros in a room nearby protecting them from the shadows at night.

It's an insidious thing this affection, it's Elros inadvertently falling asleep on Maedhros' shoulder after a particularly hard sparring lesson, soon after he allowed them to try steel training swords, it's Elrond watching Maglor in wonder as he sings an injured soldier back to health.

And so, the monsters of the stories slowly became the ones protecting them from the much more real horrors of life in this time, and before they knew it, they were the ones conjured first in their mind at the mention of family, much before a distant father they had long forgotten and a mother who left them screaming with the shadow of death looming over them.

And centuries later when someone will ask Elrond about Maedhros and Maglor he won't be able to answer because fathers seems a shallow word meant for a man he didn't knew and caretakers is too small a word for what they were.

They loved them and feared them and hated them at times, and yet they were their children, feanorians themselves after such a long time in their company.

Crafters and politicians, and even when the world denied them this legacy, casting it as shameful and bloodied, never did they forgot and always they claimed it in the quiet ways the eldest sons of Feanor had shaped them by their teachings.

And so Elrond still remembers the healing lessons he took with Himring's gruff healer and the songs of Maglor taught him in the evenings to mend broken spirit as well as wounded flesh.

And so Elros until he at last relinquished the shining numenorean throne, always remembered the rasping of Maedhros' voice and the feeling of his hand on his shoulder guiding him for each political decision he took long after his owner found his death in the fiery chasm he casted himself in.

#silmarillion #tolkien #sons of feanor #noldor #silm fandom #feanorians #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros tar minyatur #elrond and elros #sad ? #elwing #kidnapfamily #mention of Erestor #i guess

[eunoiaastralwings]

This ask has been on my mind since like FOREVER 💗💗💗💗💗💗

I was wondering if you could do a feanorians x little brother ft nolofinwe where y/n was born very weak and frail but was still loved by his family dearly just that because of his frail body he's constantly bullied and hit by other elflings (and maybe some adults). Whenever he sees his brothers and father he feels so utterly useless but bottles everything up .

Make it end up in fluff please 🙏🙏

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night ❣️

characters feanorians x little brother reader ft. Fingolfin

fandom tolkien- the silmarillion

a/n am still uneasily writing about kids - so I made it into a headcanon. Idk if this is what you intended am sorry - so you can request else where because idk what else to do this - but I hope you at least like it @oggy4god

warnings angry overprotective family members xD

FEANOR:

As your dad - expect him to treat you the same as any other of your brothers. He doesn’t care whether or not you were born weak - Feanor still wants to achieve your goals and dreams, like each of his other sons did. He would help you achieve it too. 

Eru forbid if he witnesses anyone bullying you he will turn their lives to literal hell. He would protect you with his might and title - the most important to him being a father. He will allow no harm to come upon you. After your bullying incidents he keep just an extra eye and care on you - letting you know you can always talk to him. He will be extra caring on your side. 

If you ever feel useless compared to him - he will tell you otherwise and make you shine with your skills, no matter how small they may be, he is so proud of you.

NERDANEL:

I love her, OK? I could not miss your hot momma out. Just like Feanor, she wouldn’t see you any less. You receive a little more attention from her (sometimes your brothers are a little jealous of this but they understand and love you) - more care too. She will encourage you and help you every step of the way to help you achieve your dreams - she sits with you day and night.

Nerdanel is someone who doesn’t like to use the terms “weak” or people referring to you having a “condition” - she likes to think you were extra blessed by Eru, especially when you start to show your kindness and uniqueness to the world - showing your hidden talents. She is the proudest mother - and she shows it.

Your mother would be first to witness the change in your moods - you starting to get depressed. She knows you very well and finds the reasons behind it without having to even question. She likes to deal with it quietly - but if your bullies ceases to stop, she is not afraid to take it to the next level. If she uses her title among the Nolder for anyone, it will be for her children - especially you darling.

Sometimes she cries herself to sleep - thinking about all that you had to face alone and how hard it must have been for you and why you didnt come to her.

In seeing you like this - she understands depression and other mental illnesses so she advises and helps to start therapy or retreats among elves - knowing it is more common than one would think.

Oh - and if it comes to having to get getting revenge on the kindergarten moms who bullied her kid. . . oh, she will ! ! !

Nerdanel consoles her son -and then takes her revenge on those who mistreated him.

MAEDHROS:

As your oldest brother - he advises you like a 2nd father, he isn’t afraid to step in when Feanor is away to come and protect you. He lets you take it a little more easier in training. When you cannot achieve anything as fast as your brothers - he sits down next to you and comforts you with small pet talks. He tries to make you feel better about yourself by telling the number of times he failed before achieving something - letting you know how things take time and life isn’t about a race. Mae tells you to believe in yourself and that is the most important thing - he tells you to listen to yourself and the people that are family - “They say many things - but you mustn’t listen to them, but to the people you keep in here” - points to your heart.

When you finally learn to achieve a level in your training - he has the biggest proud face. He picks you up and places you on his shoulders, cheering for you. 

MAGLOR:

While your mother invites therapy for mental health - your big brother Maglor creates songs to boost up your self esteem. Ever seen music fights? - Yes, he does that to your bullies, before filling you with a heart warming and encouraging song like in those Disney movies - he becomes Baloo (The Jungle Book) or even Genie (Aladdin).

He becomes your personal cheerleader - singing from the top of his lungs as Mae carries you on his shoulders.

CELEGORM:

While he doesn’t show it well - he loves you greatly. If he ever sees anyone bullying you and making you feel bad about yourself - big bad brother Tyelko is going to threaten the very lives of your bullies, he becomes the bully of your bullies LMAOO.

He then feels better and drops in front of you - wrapping his arm around your shoulder insisting you go for a hunt that’s the only way he knows how to comfort. Otherwise he gets either Nerdanel, Mae or Maglor.

Expect Huan to be the bestest boi to protect you from big bad brother Tyelko is away to bully the bullies that tried to hurt you.

CARANTHIR:

If anyone learns of you being mistreated first, it is your overprotective big brother Cara - he sees red when he sees or hears of someone bullying you. Cara would straight up punch them in the face - he doesn’t care who/what they are: “HOW DARE YOU EVEN THINK OF LAYING A HAND ON MY BABY BROTHER?!”

His words are searing with deadly anger - making them cower in fear. He will make sure they apologize to you - the one that you deserve. While Cara is caring, initially he is mad at you for hiding or bottling up everything. Afterwards he vows to let no harm come to you. Cara knows what it is like to be judged on - because of his ruddy freckles skin. 

Slowly the both of you become closer to each other like this - gradually opening up to each other and he has the proudest look on his face when he sees you defending him, small tears even gathers in his eyes.

CURUFIN:

Like Cara - he is so mad you had no one told anyone of your mistreatments, he will report straight to Feanor. He doesn’t know how to comfort - he never learnt that so he pulls you to the others to give you comfort, though he becomes the extra pair of eyes to protect you from anyone who dares to mistreat you. He can be a little hard on you at times - but when he learns he’s causing you hurt too he immediately stops - he does care deeply for you but he doesn’t know how to help you otherwise.

AMBARUSSA:

Please - if your older twin brothers ever sees someone hurting you - expect them to prank (and scare) the life out of them. They are letting no one hurt you in any way - they take on their roles of becoming your big brothers very seriously - even if at times it seems like it doesn’t.

Sometimes during training they purposefully fall behind you making you go ahead of them or failing on pretend - because they love seeing that triumphant amazed smile on your face once in a while. They will literally do anything to make you happy - once even daring to cut the hair of your school teacher that was giving you a hard time - “He doesn’t deserve it - if he cannot treat someone as amazing you right ! ! ! - Even Atar isn’t mad at us!”

FINGOLFIN:

Best Uncle Nolofinwë seeing this precious little nephew getting mistreated? - Oh, he will not allow such a thing to happen, for a split second he is about to lose his anger like your father - but he controls it and does it the right way of reporting it and making sure they achieve their punishment to even dare to think of doing such a thing to you. 

Afterwards - waiting for Feanor to come, he will take your hands in his and talk to you in a calm caring voice - telling you it is OK to feel like the way you and that everyone does feel like this once in a while - but the most important this is not let it cast you down: “You may think you only feel like this, young one - but we all do. . .Some are better at hiding than others and it is never good to hide it. We must accept that sometimes we need a little help. . .a little encouragement from the bad thoughts - and most importantly. . .you must never let these thoughts or words of others plague your heart, my dearest little nephew. . .”

Feanor is a little jealous and scowling at how his half-brother is having a moment with his son - expect your father to be in a sour mood and scowling at Fingolfin for a few moments before he turns to you and provides you the best of comfort - also severing the punishments for your bullying while your uncle shakes his head but offers your something in between a smile and a smirk.

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[lady-of-imladris]

More Thranduil and his wife HCs brought to you by my brain (which is trying to avoid studying for my test tomorrow)

1. He insists that she sit on his lap during council meetings so they can snuggle. She tries to protest, stating that she has a throne of her own for a reason, but Thranduil is very much of the “I am king and I make the rules” attitude. He loves resting his chin on the top of her head and glaring at his court when someone’s stepped out of line, all the while stroking down her arm lightly. She’s honestly got the best seat in the house.

2. I don’t see her as being very handy, and he always makes a big show out of teasing her when she seeks him out to fix something she’s broken.

3. His elk has, more than once, displayed Thranduil’s direction in favor of following the queen wherever she is going if they happen to cross paths while Thranduil is on a ride. With the king still on his back! The elk also has a habit of leaning on her and shoving its huge head under her arm.

4. The reason he wears a v neckline is because his wife loves to kiss and brush her hand against the hallow of his throat as she walks by.

5. Before her death, they enjoyed building forts with Legolas when he was small, often leading to pillow fights and lots of laughter.

6. He loves kissing her and looks for any and every excuse to do so.

7. They regularly sparred together, her often teasing Thranduil by saying “you hit like an elfling” as she ducks his blows.

8. They’re close with Glorfindel and the Balrog Slayer always makes it a point to playfully flirt with her to ruffle Thranduil’s feathers.

Lol that’s it for now but I’ve got more.

Baaaaaabe??? You gotta study, you can't avoid it forever. I have my first lecture tomorrow and I can't believe I have to go back for at least 5 more Semesters 😭😂 so thank you so much for sharing these with me... I have notes!!

1. Love it, absolutely, no personal space for the queen!!

2. That is so adorable 😭❤️

3. I LOVE IT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THE ELK AND THE QUEEN ARE BESTIES, THRANDUIL IS JUST ALSO THERE HAHAHA

4. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I LIKE THE WAY YOU'RE THINKING

5. Ok so I LITERALLY wrote a little pillow fight into the next chapter of my Thranduil fic??

6. Again. NO. PERSONAL. SPACE

7. YESSSSSSS!!!! she would win!!

8. That's also one of my HCs!!! Glorfindel flirts with both of them!!

Thank you so much for sending me these, you're gonna ace that test tomorrow babe!!!!

#EAGLE <3 #thranduil headcanons #cute mutuals <3