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spinningalbinoturtle · 5 months

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Thanksgiving headcanons for the Lotr crew

Its hosted in Rivendell but Elrond lets people extend the invite to others so everyone comes

Sam is in the kitchens from 6am cooking a million things-he also brought several side dishes premade

Frodo is all over the decorations and setting the table but he also made some cookies

Arwen is also very particular about this particularly the table

She has made a seating chart which she hopes will minimize squabbling

She has also set some ground rules like no dissing on your child’s interracial marriage (for Elrond and Thranduil)

Bilbo helps Sam cook in the morning but then he starts drinking around midday and doesn’t stop til he is dragged to bed by Frodo and Erestor

While Elrond is hosting he doesn’t do much just sits around and judges

He and Thranduil will be breaking Arwen’s rules

Thranduil and Gloin out drink Bilbo. They are having a silent drinking contest which has not been spoken of. Each one just decided to out drink the other

Thranduil wins cause he drinks like three bottles of a wine a day

Gimli and Legolas are just trying to avoid their parents

Thankfully Arwen sat them at the opposite end of the table

Unfortunately near Elrond who asks several awkward questions about how elf/dwarf sex works (he’s curious from a medical standpoint)

Bilbo drunkenly tells them how he had a dwarf boyfriend once so he totally understands what they’re going through at which point Frodo cuts off his wine supply

Frodo is actually trying to slow down Bilbo’s drinking all evening but with little success

Elladan and Elrohir have bonded with Merry and Pippin who introduced them to pipeweed. The four of them are stoned out of their minds and consequently eat more than everyone else. Arwen doesn’t understand what’s wrong with her brothers.

Aragorn is in charge of the turkey. Its excellent

He is mostly trying to hide from Elrond the whole time

Boromir tries to assist him with helpful turkey roasting tidbits but Aragorn would rather just do it himself

Eventually he assigns Boromir to the stuffing- its actually not bad

Erestor keeps Elrond occupied, they hang out and play chess in the middle of all the chaos

Glorfindel is the guy who is just ready for the holiday season to start

He keeps pestering Maglor to play Yule carols but Elrond’s rule is not until after dinner

Gandalf sits around and smokes and occasionally yells at Pippin. He takes turns hanging out with Bilbo and getting him drunker, hanging out with Elrond and Galadriel

Galadriel intimidates everyone no one knows where she was before or after dinner

Celeborn brought lembas rolls and cranberry sauce

Faramir makes a mean pumpkin pie

He’s just happy to be included. He fangirls over all the elves who indulge him mostly

Eowyn is enjoying watching the antics. She can’t cook for shit so she doesn’t bother to help with that but she does help clean up

So do Merry and Pippin but only because Gandalf forced them

Eomer brings “traditional Rohirric appetizers” and its smoked horse meat. Pippin and Sam are horrified to learn this.

Everyone has their favorite: Sam’s is obvs PO-TAY-TOES. Frodo likes cranberry sauce. Merry inhales stuffing. Pippin loves rolls.

Drunkest in order of most to least would be: Thranduil, Gloin, Bilbo, Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Aragorn (but you can’t tell), Eomer, Eowyn, Glorfindel, Sam (he would’ve drunk more but he was busy cooking), Elladan, Elrohir (they’re so high they don’t drink much) Arwen (not a big drinker), Frodo(alcohol fucks with his anxiety so he just has one glass of wine) Faramir (who’s a teatotler cause he thinks if he did drink he’d become an alcoholic).

Lots of songs are sung before people start to retire for bed

Legolas and Gimli have sex really loudly between their fathers’ rooms to annoy them

Galadriel shows up around midnight and helps finish cleaning up

The clean up crew includes Eowyn, Merry, Faramir, Pippin, Gandalf, and Legolas and Gimli. They have a great time.

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lucy-verse · 2 months

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In a desperate bid to put Arwen off Aragorn, Elrond talks Thranduil into setting her up with Legolas, hoping to strengthen the alliance between their realms while they’re at it. Thranduil takes Legolas to Rivendell during the summer to spend time with her in the hope that romance might blossom.

At first it all seems to be going to plan. Legolas and Arwen quickly become inseparable, frolicking in the forest together, braiding each other’s hair, whispering and giggling during mealtimes, exchanging flowers, etc. Elrond finds a little poem hidden in the guest chambers about a beautiful being with dark hair and blue eyes. Elladan seems unusually disgruntled, glaring at the two of them from across the room and hovering around Arwen protectively whenever Legolas is around.

When Legolas comes bursting into his chambers one morning, asking for his blessing to wed one of his children, Elrond is over the moon, ‘oh Valar, yes! You have my blessing, you have all my blessings! Of course you can marry Arwen!’

And Legolas just stares at him completely baffled and goes, ‘Arwen? No, no, I’m asking your permission to marry Elrohir! Your daughter and I have been talking about it all summer, she thinks it’s a great idea!’

Bonus:

Thranduil: Didn’t I mention that Legolas has no interest in elleths? Whoops. Probably should have.

Bonus bonus:

Elladan, bursting through the doors: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #headcanons #legolas #arwen undomiel #elrond peredhel #thranduil

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annoyinglandmagazine · 1 year

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One aspect of the House of Feanor I’d like to talk about is the idea that they all really love children. Like Feanor has seven sons more than any other elf we’ve ever heard mentioned. You’re telling me this guy doesn’t really love kids? So I like to believe that all the Feanorians are all inherently great with kids and just melt every time they see a child.

Feanor hates his half brothers for the whole Indis thing but he’s the only one who gets away with hating them. Anyone else tries it and they are hit with the full force of an angry Feanor. Yes he hates them but he will also be tutoring them because how else will he make sure it’s done right and they won’t disgrace Atar? And no he was not just bouncing Arafinwe on his lap what are you talking about?

Curufin is an excellent father which he inherited from his own father. Tyelpe also has six uncles who never tire of spending hours playing with him. They all fight for the title of best uncle and Tyelko very firmly believes it is him.

At family gatherings it is understood that no matter your reservations about Feanor’s side of the family if there is an upset child a Feanorian will know how to deal with it. Feanor himself will rarely object to being handed a crying baby regardless of it’s parentage. Maedhros has been the assigned babysitter for what feels like an eternity and his abilities are regarded as near magic.

This does not go away once they get to Middle Earth. The Feanorians all go to great lengths to provide adequate parental leave in their armies and frequently stop round to check in with any new parents to meet the child. They know all the names of most of their followers children and ask about them regularly.

One of the first things that endeared Caranthir to Haleth was how kind he was with some of her younger relatives. The children of the Haladin all love him because he plays with them sometimes and brings them little sweets. His good with children instincts are activated with any child regardless of race and it helps him build relations with other races more easily.

When Maglor brings Elrond and Elros back Maedhros is a lost cause within a month. He knows this s unhealthy on so many levels but children. They’re so innocent and tiny and he’s going to protect them. They are both referring to them as their children within a week.

Elrond inherits this. Erestor and Glorfindel see his adoption problem and immediately think oh shit our lord is definitely a Feanorian.

#silmarillion #tolkien #feanorians #Maglor #maedhros #Caranthir #Celebrimbor #curufin #celegorm #feanor #elrond #kidnap fam #glorfindel #erestor

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havenotwillnotreadthebooks · 10 months

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Lmao imagine if a couple wanted to get married in Lindon or Imladris and saw Elrond and was like “sure why not” and just, asked him to witness their vows in place of any actual maiar or valar.

Like the relationship between the elves in the Valar-Only-Mildly-Care Place and the Valar/Maiar themselves has got to still be stiff since elves are stupidly stubborn about holding grudges, so imagine if a couple just went “fuck the valinor glowsticks, Lord Elrond has been feeding us well and sheltering us for over a century. He’s got some ainur blood anyway.”

So they ask Elrond to be witness and he agrees thinking they just want a lord’s blessing or something and then-

“[Elvish Marriage Vows] we swear in the name of Lord Elrond Peredhel and Eru Illuvatar [More Marriage Vows]”

And at this point Elrond just has to roll with it but he bluescreens later while Erestor and Glorfindel laugh at him (Celebrian and or Gil-Galad too if they’re around)

Bonus points if It becomes a tradition in Imladris/Lindon even though he neutrally suggests a vala instead every time like

Elrond, trying not to get smited as soon as he steps foot into Valinor: hey Lady Yavanna is pretty cool though, right?

Elven Couple, exiled thousands of years ago and still frost-bitten: yes, pity there were no flowers in the Grinding Ice, my Lord. Anyways, would you mind being a witness to our wedding ceremony?”

Elrond starts glowing slightly and never lives it down. He goes to Valinor and people still ask him out of tradition or genuine respect and the Valar just have to put a small tapestry of Elrond as a patron of unions or something so they can claim some sort of control over the situation.

Elrond is mortified, and nobody lets him live it down.

#silmarillion #silm headcanons #silm hcs #elrond #elrond peredhel #tag.words #eldritch peredhel #somewhat #elrond is so done #the valar are determined to seem in control #and totally not blinded by this sorta-maia gaining more followers than tulkas #Tulkas the Useless as the middle-earth elves say #is rlly trying not to look offended #he is failing

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mushroomates · 3 months

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aragorn headcanons:

sketches in his free time. likes to draw plants he’s come across, writes down descriptions for later. makes maps and draws animals.

cannot draw people, for the life of him.

except for arwen. draws her all the time.

used to very bland food, cooking on the road. prefers unseasoned meat, likes to taste the “natural flavor.”

dislikes nutmeg. cinnamon feind

favorite cookie is oatmeal raisin

has very grimy hands all the time. it’s never ending. even after he washes them, it’s like immediate dirt and grease

current theories are: his sword is just really dirty, his clothes are dirty so when he touches them it makes them dirty, or legolas’s favorite- humans naturally produce grime so the dirt is a natural protective layer above the skin.

in actuality it’s because he knows it grosses (some) elves out and likes to be a menace. specifically targets erestor. legolas will also go great lengths to make sure aragorns hands star far, far away from his hair

knows some card tricks. has great slight of hand specially because of these card tricks. didn’t really do anything with this until pippin discovered this fact and aragorn was forced (politely asked) to preform for the hobbits.

this is, in spite of the fact, that they all know a literal WIZARD (gandalf was salty at abt this “false magic”) and also a ring that turns ppl invisible??

sews. really well, actually. enjoys it but rarely showcases this talent- mostly patches and mends garments weathered by his lifestyle. would one day love to sew a dress for arwen but doesn’t know where to start

masterful at subtly deflecting compliments.

very generous with compliments of his own, but are again, subtle.

years of living with elves has made him quite reserved. yet, he is doing his best to unlearn this behavior. such examples include:

telling arwen he loves her. telling elrond he loves him. telling frodo he loves him. really just telling everyone he loves them. he’s even worse when he’s drunk- he rarely gets even tipsy, but under the influence of a fine wine (or mead, he prefers mead or ciders) he will get very emotional.

hugs!! aragorn loves to give hugs. he really tries his best but they’re a bit awkward at times. he’s getting better.

breaking away from the elven raw-diet and dine seasonings with grilled meat and more lately grilled everything.

he will try his best to cook for himself at any opportunity. it was a jarring shift going from being served gourmet eleven dinners to raw venison

love language is acts of service. he likes to cook for his friends, though he’s not as good as it as sam, who cooked a majority of fellowship meals, so he mainly hunts. then legolas offered his hand and gimli felt challenged by that and at this point boromir just felt excluded-

he just wants to do nice things for the people he cares abt.

arwen has not, for a good chunk of her life, tied her own shoes, peeled her own oranges, made her own tea, or woken up without breakfast being made or ready for her.

just. guys. he really really loves arwen. he will do anything for her and it’s almost obnoxious.

it IS obnoxious if you ask legolas. but this is why aragorn does not go to legolas for romantic advice. (legolas once told aragorn that the next time he ties her shoes he should tie them together so that when she falls he will catch her. this is why arwen stoped flats with ties and opted for anything she could slip on instead.)

will never cheat at any sort of game. he will get extremely upset if you accuse him of such.

he does not believe that counting cards qualifies as cheating. boromir strongly disagrees. he mainly sticks to chess, now

is not allowed to play chess with erestor, (sore loser and prone to trash talk) elrond (matches take to long due to overthinking on both ends and this annoys arwen to no end) and either of the twins (they cheat by working as a team)

would 100% believe in bigfoot.

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dontfearrr · 3 months

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Heard it through the grapevine

sorry guys i been so mia i literally have been in a weird funk but here’s a longer fic for u thrandy lovers and lmk if u want a part 2 maybe???

kisses to everyone, enjoy my elf sluts💋💋💋

Pairing: Thranduil x human!reader

Summary: reader keeps receiving gifts at her balcony, she has no idea where or who they’re coming from, she’s determined to find out…

Warnings: mild spicy content nothing crazy though

Category: fuck idk, fluff/hot n steamy?

Word Count: 2.1k

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“strawberries and grapes this time!”

You shouted out to Tauriel who sat on your bed. She was just as intrigued with these series of gifts you’d been receiving. You both have been trying to narrow it down to who it could be, there was very few elves in this realm who spoke to you but the few that did, didn’t seem interested in you. So they were kind of at a dead end, yet the gifts never stopped.

You lifted the white basket off the floor of the balcony where they always were delivered, somehow unnoticed. You sighed and set the basket on the bed next to Tauriel as you both opened the note together. The thought of having a secret admirer was quite endearing, however it seemed a bit childish almost..but very intriguing nonetheless.

“read it out loud! i can’t do it!” you giggled as you handed Tauriel the note and she laughed with you, sharing the excitement. She cleared her throat dramatically and gave you a slight smirk before looking down at the note and she began to read.

“the grapes of the finest wine, the strawberries of the finest vine. for a woman oh so devine.”

She spoke out in a teasing tone. Your face heated up in embarrassment, these poems were always so corny, but who could be so brave enough to share them with you! “oh my, Tauriel..that is absurd” you laughed and shook your head.

You took the note from her and examined the hand writing, trying to get some kind of idea of who it could be! You thought for a moment, the gears in your brain turning ferociously until you tilted your head and looked at Tauriel.

“grapes from the finest wine…finest vine…Tauriel, arent these fruits from the private garden??” you spoke, picking up one of the grapes, it was bright purple, these were the grapes used to make the town wine. Tauriels eyes widened and nodded, they were in fact from the private garden! well this is something at least. “yes those grapes specifically are kept in the furthest corner, only very few people are allowed in that area” she told you, picking up the strawberries. “these are also from the same area. finest fruit indeed” she sent you a teasing wink and you just rolled your eyes at the elf’s childishness.

“are you able to get me a list of the people who are allowed to enter this area of the garden?” you asked her hopefully and she chuckled a bit, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

“when i say very few people, i mean very few. grab something to write with.” Tauriel told you and you wasted no time scurrying off to find a quill and paper. Once you returned, you handed it to her and she began writing. you were nervous to see who was on that list, hands fidgeting eagerly as you hovered over her shoulder.

Six names were written on the list, this was amazing news. You snatched the paper from her hand and scanned your eyes over the list, it read:

Thranduil

Legolas

Lesysus

Elrond

Haldir

Aman

You were beyond perplexed. This list only made things even more difficult. The first thing you did was process of elimination. Elrond, he was in rivendell currently. Haldir, who was also with Elrond in rivendell….and that was it.. okay so six to four, not bad. But these were royal figures of the realm! There is no way any of these elves were even close to possible..

You looked at Tauriel who gave you a sympathetic look, she could tell you were stressing yourself out over this.

“do not dwell on it, my friend” she spoke gently, and you sighed deeply, setting the paper on your table and looked out the arched window of your chambers. “this was fun until now” you grumbled to yourself and looked down at the paper once more. “I think i’m just going to give it a rest, it’s clear whoever is doing this doesn’t want to be discovered so i suppose i’ll respect that” you told Tauriel and she quite literally laughed in your face, in a friendly way of course.

“i really love your optimism but we both know you’re not giving it a rest. just sleep on it, maybe you’ll get an idea soon.” she stood from your bed and gently rubbed your arm in reassurance before taking her leave.

You on the other hand, had a plan. A very determined one at that. You were going to do a steak out, spying over the royal garden! How incredibly stupid of you, but if the elf who was doing this was allowed in there, you saw no problem with taking a peek…for the entire night.

It was late now, nearly one in the morning, you decided it was a good time to go and spy on the garden. Tauriel had showed you a way to climb up into the trees to look down upon mirkwood, you figured this was perfect, that’s if you don’t get caught and probably executed. You chuckled to yourself at the thought as you threw on an elven cloak, putting the hood up and dressing yourself in your darkest garments to blend in with the night.

You may have been human but you had lived with the elves long enough to pick up on their gracefulness and swift movements. you swung from branch to branch, getting high enough in the twisting tree, maneuvering until you had a good view of the garden. You were crouched on a branch, quite high enough to go unnoticed hopefully. You hadn’t really thought through how long this would take but there was no going back now.

Three hours had passed by and your legs were beginning to ache so you moved to a simple sitting position, legs dangling off of the tree branch you sat upon. Your head snapped in the direction of the garden after hearing some noise, then you saw a shadow of a figure enter the garden. God damned elven sight, that was the one thing you didn’t have. It was simply too dark to see who had entered the garden, you were squinting and squinti-

“i know you are there, young one.”

A deep voice boomed through your ears and your eyes widened. They could see you? They knew you were there? This is ridiculous! Your mind raced but kept quiet until you heard the voice again.

“there’s really no use in hiding if i’m fully aware of your presence. come down. don’t be rude now.” the voice spoke again, you stared at the dark figure and sighed. Carefully jumping down the tree, landing on the top of the brick wall that separated the garden from the forrest then hopped down to the garden, standing slightly behind the very..tall figure. “i apologize, i was- i was…” you couldn’t even make up an excuse, you just accepted your fate at this point.

“you were spying on my garden? for a very obvious reason that is..” his voice was now VERY familiar to you, your face went white and your blood went cold. You’d just been caught red handed by the king. You watched him lift his arms and pull his hood down and slowly turn around to face you. He wasn’t wearing any kind of crown, not even a circlet. His white hair fell down his shoulders along with his hood and he stared down at you intensely.

“m-my lord.” You began to bow but he held up a hand, halting your movements. You obeyed and stood straight, looking at him.

“i see you’ve been receiving my gifts well. a curious one you are..” he said, a bit of amusement laced in his words. If he was being honest, he was quite impressed with your little idea, however he assumed it was only a matter of time.

“and please, call me by my name” he asked, stepping closer to you.

Your heart had fell all the way to your stomach, Thranduil was your secret admirer? this cannot be. you didn’t believe it for a second. That was until his hands reached up to pull your hood down, revealing you to him. “you are quite breathtaking, even in the darkness.” you could feel his index finger ghost over your cheek, the blood immediately rushing to your face causing you to blush deeply at his simple actions. The presence of the king was usually a lot more intimidating, but this felt almost..intimate?

“why me?” you asked quietly, looking him in his eyes despite it being quite dark, you were still able to make him out clearly.

He let out a low chuckle and dropped his hand back down, clasping his two hands at his front elegantly. “you think because you are mortal, that i cannot pursue you? i’ll have you know, i’ll pursue who ever i see fit..” he told her truthfully. He’s had a fascination for the girl for quite a while, though she had no idea of it.

He brought a hand up to your chin, gently lifting your face up so you can look at him properly, and so he can admire his sweet human. your face was warm and beet red, you were beyond flustered and truly had no idea what to say. “you wish to pursue me?” you asked him with a little bit of disbelief behind it and he simply nodded. God Tauriel would lose her mind if she seen what was happening! Your heart was beating rapidly, his touch felt like a dozen swans on a sweet pond. His thumb swiped over your jawline tenderly, causing you to take a step closer to him. He was more than pleased by this.

“i’ve desired you the moment i laid my eyes upon you” his hand was now cupping your cheek, his fingers threading through the hair behind your ear. “Thranduil..” was all you could muster up. He had you weak in the knees from a simple touch, it was quite cruel really. He absolutely loved the way his name sounded on your tongue, causing him to take a deep breath the calm himself down before he did something he regretted.

“will you have me?”

You placed a hand upon his chest, feeling his breath hitch in his throat as you did so. You slid your hand up, never breaking eye contact, feeling the porcelain skin of his neck as your hand continued higher, allowing it to rest on the back of his neck, your fingers nearly tangling in his perfect tresses. “i don’t want anyone else..” you told him and his caused his grip on you to tighten only ever so slightly. His thumb ran over your cheekbone before he dropped his hand, you were almost disappointed until his hand was now on your waist, pulling you against his own body.

Your body was on fire in this intimate moment, you were crumbling at his hand. He could tell you to jump off of the highest cliff and you’d comply without question. His head lowered down to your ear, his lips barely ghosting over your earlobe. “you keep me up at night, young one..” he purred, you could feel his warm breath against the skin of your neck.

You gasped at this and leaned your head to the side absentmindedly at his action, he took this as a delicious invitation as his head fit perfectly in the nook of your collarbone and neck. His lips connected with your skin, leaving open mouthed kisses to your neck, then unclasped your cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. his free hand pulled at the material of your tunic, exposing your shoulder as he hungrily continued his sweet kisses to your skin.

“Thranduil please..” you breathed out, the torture was far too much. Your legs were trembling and you gripped onto his cloak as if he was going to disappear. “please what, my love? use your words with your king..” his voice was like smooth honey, melting into your ears delightfully. You wanted to cry out in agony, but refrained from doing so as his lips connected with your collarbone this time.

You couldn’t take it any longer, you gently ran your fingers through his hair and cupped his face, pulling his head back to face you, his eyes were half lidded and filled with lust. Your mouth parted slightly as your breath slowed and you leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes for a moment. You could feel his breath against your lips, you felt this was too much and decided to take matters into your own hands and you closed the gap, his lips molding perfectly with yours. he gripped your waist a little harder, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you with hunger and passion. You tugged his hair, earning a groan from him and backed him up against the brick wall.

The king had fallen completely under your spell at this point, he was yours…

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echo-bleu · 5 months

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Noldor Hair Headcanons (3/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | On AO3

Some lighter Kidnap Fam content, after the downhill freefall that was the last chapter. With a dash of Finrod in Valinor.

Elrond and Elros have never had their hair braided when they end up with Maedhros and Maglor.

They don’t realize what they’re asking when Elros grabs a hairbrush and puts it in Maglor’s hand.

Maglor understands that, but decides that the twins need parental care, even though he has no right. He brushes their hair and leaves it loose at first.

But the twins have watched Maglor braid Maedhros’s hair and they soon start asking for more interesting hairstyles.

Eventually Maglor explains to them that it can only be done by family.

The twins have a whole silent conversation.

“What does it take to be family?” Elros asks eventually.

Well, braiding an unrelated child’s hair is pretty close to informal adoption.

Elros forces the brush into Maglor’s hand again.

Maglor stares.

Elrond shakes his head and runs out.

Of course, Elrond must hate them. He has every right. Sure, Elros has started to warm up to them, but that’s just because he’s affection-starved, probably. They’re still kidnappers.

Maglor is about to put down the brush and try to refuse when Elrond comes back.

He’s holding a second hairbrush.

He hands it to Maedhros expectantly.

Maedhros cries.

Maglor cries.

The twins’ hair really doesn’t hold braids very well, and they’re still kids who run around and play, but damn them if Maglor and Maedhros aren’t going to do their best.

Now all of their people can see that the twins are well-loved.

Maedhros and Maglor also proudly sport a few clumsy, wonky braids each.

They’re less wonky with time, and eventually the twins are doing their fathers’ (kidnappers’) hair as often as not.

Finrod is reembodied shortly before Eärendil and Elwing gets to Valinor. It’s too early and he’s Not Doing Well. While in Middle Earth, he was the one who let basically every one of his friends braid his hair, now he can’t stand the thought of someone touching him that way.

But Beleriandic battle braids feel wrong in Tirion. And he’s desperately trying to reckon with his trauma, with Sauron defeating him by singing about the kinslaying, so he can’t leave his hair loose like the Teleri.

And he can’t quite get the sight of Edrahil’s bloody braids spat out by a werewolf out of his head.

He wears nothing but the very strange-looking (to Amanyar) Mourning Braids he designed after Dagor Bragollach for a couple of years.

Then after an episode of really bad depression and nearly fading, he cuts his hair short.

No-braiding-possible kind of short.

While not unheard of in Beleriand (sometimes former thralls keep their hair very short, like Rog), it’s unthinkable in Valinor, especially for the Crown Prince of the Noldor.

He is stared at a lot, his reputation goes down the drain, but to Finrod it’s liberating.

He does let his hair grow out again eventually, but only when other Exiles start coming back and choose to keep the Beleriandic braid styles, and it becomes a fashion statement rather than a mark of shame.

Finarfin is Very Shocked arriving in Beleriand when he finds his (single remaining) child with her hair loose and everyone else with weird self-braided battle hairstyles.

After a battle or three where he ends up with his hair matted with blood and mud, he caves and gets Galadriel to give him battle braids.

By the end of the war he’s even learned to do them himself! Let it not be said that King Arafinwë Ñoldóran didn’t rise to his calling.

The night before sending the Elrond and Elros to Gil-galad, Maedhros and Maglor undo all of their braids. Everyone cries.

Maedhros and Maglor meant this to minimize the ‘taint’ their names would put on the twins, by making it look like they were still hostages to the end, but the twins stop on the way to do each other’s hair because one does not meet a king with their hair loose, they have manners (which the Fëanorians taught them, so they’re Very Specific Manners), so the effect is lost. Gil-galad has Questions. The twins refuse to lie.

Then, before going to steal the Silmarils, Maedhros and Maglor do each other’s hair, in a style of their father’s that they haven’t worn since the Oath.

Maglor braids a single golden ribbon into Maedhros’s hair.

They have very few pieces of hair jewellery left of their brothers’, but they use all of them.

They both know it’s the last time.

To be continued

I did some sketches for visual reference of a few of the hairstyles mentioned here, if you want to see what I'm imagining!

#noldor hair headcanons #if i am to braid my mystic crown #noldor #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #finrod #kidnap fam #silmarillion #silm fic #tolkien #tolkien fanfiction #echo's fanfiction

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sweetbutpsychobutsweet · 6 months

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Owe You One

Chapter 6

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: A new discovery about the nature of orcs leads to a drastic decision on your part. And Thorin surprises you by behaving in a very un-Thorin-like manner

Warnings: angst, no use of y/n, implied eating disorder/starvation to avoid menstruation

author's note: Hope y'all enjoyed the events of last chapter😉 I'm working on creating a master list for my page so it's easier to navigate through my fics in the future!

Also, without giving away too much of what happens in this chapter, I added in the warnings that there are mentions of the reader starving herself to delay getting her period. Because it doesn't come from a place of body dysmorphia I didn't want to mislabel it as anorexia, but if this is a potentially triggering topic for you please be aware that you might want to skip the next few chapters.

If you or someone you know is suffering from an eating disorder you can call the helpline at ♥888-375-7767♥

Word count: 1622

You allow yourself a few minutes to just sit on the bed in your towel. It takes some time to form a coherent thought, and even longer to regain feeling in your legs.

Once you do finally gather enough energy to stand you make your way over to the armoire to dress for dinner. Your stomach is already starting to rumble in anticipation of the feast you know will be waiting for you just down the hall so you decide to dress quickly.

You choose a dress you know you can slip into easily, not wanting to fuss with pulling on trousers at the moment. You pull on a clean chemise to go underneath, then choose one of your favorite evening dresses to pull on. It’s a dark, forest green color, made of a shimmery fabric that catches in the light with your every movement. The sleeves flow down your arms before splitting open at the elbow to drape loosely down the rest of your arms. The laces cross in the front of the bodice instead of the back so you can tie them easily yourself.

Not wanting to wrangle with your wet mess of hair you simply pile it on top of your head and pin it in place. You step into a pair of matching silk slippers and head out the door, following the mouthwatering smell of Elven cuisine.

You force yourself to walk slowly down to the dining hall, worried the others might be suspicious if you arrive too soon after Thorin does.

You pass through elegant archways to find your company poking at the vegetables before them with great displeasure. But not quite as much displeasure as you feel when you realize the only seat left is right next to Thorin.

You had hoped to avoid him for a while in a vain attempt to put off the inevitable discussion that will need to be had. About what happened between the two of you, and what exactly it means moving forward.

“These swords were made for the goblin wars of the first age,” Lord Elrond is explaining when you take your seat between him and Thorin. “How did you come by these?” he asks curiously.

“We found them in a troll hoard on the great east road shortly before we were ambushed by orcs.” Gandalf replies with excitement.

Lord Elrond looks at you with suspicion. “And what were you doing on the great east road?”

“Weren’t you listening?” you ask as you start to pile food onto your plate, “we were being ambushed by orcs.”

Your Elven friend simply laughs, knowing better than to try and get an answer out of you.

“We’re incredibly lucky you arrived when you did,” you tell him, “we’d probably all have our heads mounted on spikes by now if it hadn’t been for you.”

“We were doing just fine,” Thorin grumbles from beside you but you elect to ignore him.

“They are vicious creatures,” Lord Elrond agrees with you. “While you’re here I’ll have to show you some literature I recently found on some of their hunting strategies. Some scholars seem to believe that orcs are able to smell blood from several miles away. If their intended target loses so much as a drop of blood they’re as good as dead with an orc pack on their trail.”

You freeze with your fork midway to your mouth.

Blood? You think to yourself in panic as you start to do the math in your head.

You drop your fork onto your plate in alarm and everyone turns to look at you in concern. You smile sheepishly and reach for your water goblet with a trembling hand. Everyone turns back to their conversations.

Everyone except Thorin. Whose gaze you can feel burning a hole in your head.

You refuse to meet his eyes, too afraid that if he sees the panic on your face he’ll be able to realize the exact same thing you just did.

Orcs can smell blood, and your menstrual cycle is due to start in five days.

If its true that even a single drop can attract orcs from miles away, then the pack currently hunting you will certainly notice if you suddenly start to lose a large amount of blood.

If Thorin and the others find out that the only female member of the company is about to pose a great risk to everyone’s lives then the only logical solution would be for them to leave you behind.

For Thorin to leave you behind. Again.

You’ll be left bleeding and alone while they go off to continue reclaiming Erebor without you.

You know it isn’t fair to blame them. It’s not their fault you have this monthly inconvenience any more than it's yours. It is for the good of the company that you stay behind for a little while if you’re about to start bleeding.

Unless you don’t start bleeding, you realize.

You look down at your plate as an idea starts to form in your head.

The stress of the journey will likely cause your cycle to come late anyway. But if you were to stop eating for just a few days, that would definitely prevent your cycle from coming. At least long enough to put more distance between you and the orcs.

You push your plate away from you, your decision made. Certainly, you can manage to go a few more days without eating, if it means saving the company from any further risk. Your stomach grumbles at you in protest and you can tell Thorin is still looking at you with suspicion. But that will be a problem for later.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Our business is no concern of elves,” Thorin’s voice echos off the walls of the dark study you have all gathered in.

“Here we go,” you mutter to yourself.

“For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map!” the wizard cries with mounting frustration at the leader of your company.

“It is the legacy of my people, it is mine to protect as are its secrets,” Thorin replies stubbornly.

“Thorin,” your voice is gentle but assertive and for the first time since dinner his eyes finally meet yours.

“You can trust Lord Elrond, I promise.” he remains silent as his eyes search your face. You can still see the dark cloud of his inner turmoil as he struggles to hold his ground against you and Gandalf. His resolve may be starting to crack, as he realizes this is in the best interest of the quest. But knowing Thorin he would rather die than admit defeat.

“Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!” Gandalf cries, “Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in middle earth who can read that map, show it to Lord Elrond!”

Thorin gives no indication that he heard a word Gandalf said. His gaze has not left yours.

“If you won’t trust Lord Elrond, will you at least trust that Gandalf has our best interests at heart?” you ask him with a sigh. “Will you trust me, Thorin?”

He remains silent, clenching his fists at his side, and your irritation grows as you steel yourself for him to refuse yet again.

But he doesn’t.

He reaches into his tunic and pulls out the map.

“Thorin, no!" Balin protests but Thorin simply shrugs him off and hands the map over.

Lord Elrond begins to carefully unfold the map as you repeatedly open and close your mouth in shock, not knowing what to say.

Thorin averts his eyes from you as Lord Elrond and Gandalf begin discussing amongst themselves. Their voices fade around you in a blur and your attention drifts away as it can only seem to focus on one thing: why would Thorin do that?

He never backs down, not even when he realizes he’s in the wrong. Even before there was this tension between the two of you, convincing Thorin to set aside his pride when he feels so strongly about something is next to impossible.

What could have possibly caused him to change his mind this time?

“Cirth Ithil,” you hear Lord Elrond say and your attention immediately snaps back to the present moment.

“Moon runes!” you translate with breathless excitement.

“Of course!” Gandalf cries, “An easy thing to miss.”

“Well in this case that is true,” continues Lord Elrond, “moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written.”

“Can you read them?” comes the important question.

Lord Elrond leads the others off to a moonlit space where the runes will be illuminated. But before Thorin can follow the others you reach out to grab his arm, pulling him back from the group.

He turns over his shoulder to look back at you but avoids meeting your eyes.

“Why did you do that?” you ask him, “What made you change your mind?”

He gently removes your hand from his arm and turns to face you fully. Your breath catches in your throat as he takes a step closer to you and memories of what happened in that pool earlier that same evening come rushing back.

You hadn’t noticed until now that a strand of hair had fallen loose from the others, and hung by your cheek. Thorin reaches up gently to tuck it behind your ear. His warm palm lingered against your cheek.

“It’s like you said,” he mumbles as your eyelids flicker in anticipation, “I owe you one.” his hand falls away from your face and you can’t help but feel more than a little disappointed as he turns to follow the others outside.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

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shirefantasies · 2 months

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Ok, so like the elves’ spice tolerances from 0 to 10 (doubt they have good spice tolerance because they’re white af but still) (do they even have spices in Middle Earth)

I'm DEAD this is so random but so funny I love this uhhhh let's see

Legolas- Probably higher than average because he's pretty strong & has a very high tolerance for alcohol & other things. Claims that yes, he can feel a bit of a tingle, but it is exhilarating is it not? Extra hearty so solid 7-8 here.

Elrond- Can eat spicy stuff but doesn’t like it. Avoids it if he can and complains a bit/raises his eyebrows at it. Asks Lindir to let the chefs know this exotic stuff wasn't really it. 5.

Arwen- Sees it as a challenge especially if someone assumes she can’t. Goes beyond her tolerance level sometimes but doesn't show it until the other party turns their back, then she lets the tears flow. 7.

Haldir- Acts like he can handle it, waves his hands and carries on when he tries. Not quite full 'ketchup is spicy' but definitely the type to get incensed over an excess of heat AKA anything beyond mild. 3-4.

Lindir- Terrified when it is presented to him, all but shaking as he raises it to his mouth...only to find that it's not that bad, here try some everyone! Cue everyone else dying, this man with his snobby taste somehow just downed a ton of habanero sauce like a king and made some comment about finally enjoying foreign food. Surprise 9.

Galadriel- An absolute badass are you kidding. 10/10 no questions she makes the others look like babies. Would win hot ones or whatever I've never seen the show. Pain is nothing to this queen, she just smiles that gorgeous smile and laughs at the others' reactions as if she was given a bonbon.

Thranduil- Threatens anyone who questions his 'allergy' to spice as weakness, literally getting in their face and whispering a threat that shakes them to their core. If cornered would claim geographic tongue. Solid 3, vinegar is practically too much for the guy, all he can handle is the faint 'burn' of alcohol.

lmao we love our white bois & girls 💀😂

#lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #lotr headcanons #the hobbit headcanons #legolas #elrond #arwen #haldir #lindir #thranduil #ask #unspeakableoftheoscarwildesorr #requested #sorta lmao #humor

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tar-maitime · 1 month

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bring myself to hold you

Rating: G Characters: Maedhros | Maitimo, Maglor | Makalaure, Elrond, Elros Relationships: Maedhros & Maglor, Maedhros & Elrond & Elros Additional: post-Sirion, questionable adoption, slowly becoming a family WC: 1k

“What’s the Quenya word for ‘mother’?” Elrond asks.

The question is a little out of nowhere, but ever since Maglor started with his insistence on teaching the twins Quenya, one or another of them will pipe up with a random vocabulary question at odd times. Maedhros shrugs, and tries to not let the mental image of Elwing falling with the Silmaril clutched to her heart take over.

“There are several,” she says, not looking up from the maintenance she’s doing on a pair of daggers. “Ontaril is perhaps the most technical of them - it only means ‘she who begets’. The most commonly used is amil, although there are several variations on that, as well as a couple of...warmer diminutives - ammë and amya.”

Elrond nods, looking serious, thanks her, and goes his way.

Maedhros doesn’t really think about it afterward. Even if it’s been pretty much assumed that they’re keeping the twins indefinitely ever since the new star rose, she doesn’t like to let them occupy too much of her thoughts. She helps Maglor with them as needed - probably everyone who’s left has at some time or another - but she won’t play along with his fantasies of parenthood, won’t get too comfortable. If Maglor can fool himself into thinking he’s unmonstrous enough to raise children, good for him, but she can’t.

“Really, Nelyë? I know you weren’t like this with Gil-galad,” he’d said to her once, early on.

She’d stiffened at the mention of her no-longer-son. “That was entirely different,” she’d said shortly. “I was not responsible for his first home’s destruction. And even he wants nothing to do with me now.”

And there is, after all, plenty to concern herself with besides the idle questions of children, if they want to keep on surviving here in this poorly-manned fortress in the midst of the wild, so she’s almost entirely forgotten the conversation a few days later, when Elrond says casually over supper, “Ammë, would you pass the bread?”

At first, Maedhros ignores him entirely - it’s been decades since ammë meant her. When he nudges her and repeats, “Ammë?”, it finally dawns on her who he’s talking to.

She continues to not look directly at him. “I don’t know who you mean,” she says evenly. “No one’s mother is here. Yours is...in the West.”

“Naneth is in the West,” Elrond agrees. “You’re here, though. Do...do you not want us to call you that?”

“I told you she wouldn’t,” Elros mutters from the other side of the table.

“It was worth a try!” Elrond retorts, with a brief glance at Maglor, whom Maedhros has been trying not to notice gaining the title of Atya occasionally from the twins. Maglor, for his part, is a study in neutrality, although she knows him well enough to see the hope seeping through the cracks.

“If you insist on giving me some kind of familial title,” she manages, “I would have thought you would try atarnésa.” ‘Aunt’ is still not something she thinks anyone ought to call a kinslaying kidnapper, but it would make more sense if they insisted on calling Maglor a father.

Elros shrugs. “We’ve never had an aunt, so we don’t know what it’s like,” he says. “And you - you’re like Naneth.”

Aside from them both being female, Maedhros cannot think of anyone else she would be less likely to be compared to.

Elrond seems to sense his brother’s floundering and picks up the thread. “You’re busy a lot, and you’re always working to make sure everyone stays safe and has enough. You don’t like to stop and rest in case somebody thinks you’re broken, but you will if it’s to spend time with us. That’s how it was with Naneth, too.”

Maedhros is unable to speak for a moment, and when the ability returns, she rasps, “I drove your mother off a cliff. I was part of the reason she was hurt like she was.” She doesn’t usually lay it out that baldly for them, but there doesn’t seem to be anything else for it.

“We know,” Elros says, not casually, but calmly. He shouldn’t know how to sound like that at his age. Just one more thing she’s broken. “It’s...marred. So is everything. But we’re all here now, and it would only make things worse to hate each other, so we might as well try the other thing.”

“We don’t have to call you Ammë if you don’t want it,” Elrond says quietly. “I just thought it might be nice to try.”

Maedhros is silent for a few long seconds. She’s not sure how to explain that Ammë isn’t supposed to mean her, Ammë is supposed to mean strong, gentle, chisel-callused hands and a warm smile and the smell of clay and dust and someone who can comfort and fix things. The name had only barely started to sit right with her when she had to send Gil-galad away, and now it chafes against the sticky new blood on her hands.

But the twins seem to think it would make them happy, to call her this, and doesn’t she owe them that, after everything? She took away their real mother; she can deal with them using her as a substitute, wrong as it is, if they consider it some kind of restitution.

“It’s all right,” she finally says. “You can call me that if you want to. Whatever you like.”

The children’s eyes go wide with delight, and a hopeful smile slips onto Maglor’s face.

#silmarillion #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #kidnap fam #feat. quenya education #soft despite maedhros' best efforts #roots compliant

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kiatheinsomniac · 4 months

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.・✫・゜・。. ｡⋆ʚ[ 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐏! ]♡⃛ɞ ──── 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘 ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: nov. 2023 third supporter: @havatnah 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Aragorn x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 0.5k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none

“This one might be more useful to you.” A book enters your line of sight as you return the book in your hand to its rightful place on the shelf. It’s written in Sindarin anyway and therefore of little use to you. The one now being offered to you though is printed in the common tongue.

The hand holding it looks worn with work and exploration, adorned by fingerless gloves and a ring with green gems. You follow the arm up until you meet kind blue eyes. They belong to Estel, Lord Elrond’s ward. You blink in surprise as you gently take it from him.

“Thank you…” You haven’t been a guest in Rivendell for a significantly long time but you have been here long enough to know that he is a ranger and, when in Rivendell, can often be seen amongst Elrond and his children. He’s kind-eyed and soft-spoken and (you’re now beginning to also see) very charming too.

“Come, I think this section will be to your liking.” He offers with a polite dip of his head as he begins leading you away to another section of the library. You notice his hair as you follow him through the aisles of shelves. His hair is long but not as long as the elves’. He appears human but there’s something about his mannerisms that make you doubt he’s wholly human too. He leads you to a section on nature. “I really love the wildflower illustrations in these ones-” his worn fingers run along the embossed spines before doing the same to a few books two shelves up, “-and these are on Fangorn forest…”

“Have you ever been?” You ask, made curious by the fond smile on his lips.

“I haven’t, no, but the eldar speak very highly of the old trees there. They’re awake, you know? Aware, moving, speaking…”

“I would like to see it for myself…” You say softly as you ponder what it might be like to talk with a tree. Aragorn smiles softly at your words. You clearly have a deep curiosity and respect for nature and something about who you are is intuitively pulling him towards you. He lets the silence hang between the two of you for a while before he speaks once again:

“Are you free the day after tomorrow?” He asks and you take a moment to recall your schedule.

“Yes…?” You reply, unsure as to why he’s asking.

.・。.・゜��・.・✫・゜・。.

“Estel… it’s incredible…” You breathe out as you look over the valley that Rivendell resides in, the waterfalls and rivers and the beautiful architecture, the steep rising hills of the valley and the blanket of tree canopy all around. He’s taken you on a ride up to the top of one of said hills, the horses grazing nearby as you stand near the ledge, the wind and distant rush of water joining the melodies of birds around you.

He joins you in admiring the view – one of his favourite spots he found when he first began his training as a ranger. But his eyes aren’t on the valley of Rivendell like yours are. They’re on you.

“Indeed it is…”

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

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gffa · 2 years

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My problem with Rings of Power’s opening episode is that it is nowhere near strong enough to overcome its most fundamental obstacle: It doesn’t have the rights to The Silmarillion, HoME, LaCE, Unfinished Tales, etc., so it cannot reference those events but it wants to tell stories based on those events anyway. So what you end up with is this story that can vaguely gesture in the direction of the Kinslaying and the Feanorians, but it can’t actually tell you about those events. It can gesture in the general direction of the political structure of the First Age, but it can’t actually tell the story of the characters’ relationships with each other. So you’re left with vague, unspecific events instead, you’re left with the show trying to give gravitas to Galadriel’s campaign against the Enemy, but you can’t fill in the details, they don’t even say Finrod’s name, they can’t reference anything more than “and then the Elves went to war”, like, that is the flattest version of those events that you could possibly give! It’s not that there’s not sparks of something really lovely in the show, I actually genuinely enjoy Elrond’s character, there’s a warmth and earnestness to him that wasn’t conveyed in the trailers or character descriptions, where yes he’s young but you can see the person he’ll grow into being. But I spent the entire first episode feeling like something was missing and it really slapped me in the face when Gil-galad asks if he knows Celebrimbor and my mind was immediately like, “I mean, Celebrimbor is Curufin’s son, pretty sure Elrond would be aware of him, yes??” but none of that can be in the show, just that Elrond’s aware of him as an artist. That lack of touching on the connection there made me realize that, so far, nothing in the story has shown us that Elrond is anything more than just some random Elf. That’s my problem with the show! You can get away with it by the time of the Third Age, because Elrond is the head of Rivendell, he’s thousands of years old, there are very few Elves left, you can feel his importance to the history of the world. But when he’s younger, you can’t lean on that, the only things we know about his background are that he’s not an Elf-Lord, he’s Gil-galad’s herald, and he’s Galadriel’s friend. There’s nothing about how Elrond is Thingol’s heir. Or what that means. There’s nothing about how he’s descended from Finwe as well and is a prime candidate for king of the Noldor, after Gil-galad. There’s nothing about his connection to the Feanorians. To Elwing and Earendil. Then there’s Galadriel, who the show does all right with, when they shift her inability to go home/the refusal to turn back from when she first crossed over to Middle-earth to her inability to let go of the fight against Sauron, and I can see some potential in that, that they’re working as an adaptation as best they can, since they can’t reference the events that her source material was built on. But when she was speaking with Elrond over the memorials, all I could think about was how these characters felt like a half-finished story. Celebrian doesn’t exist yet, so that connection isn’t there. This Finrod didn’t die to save Beren, so there’s no sense of, “Oh, had Finrod not sacrificed himself, Elrond wouldn’t be here.” And there’s too little that takes the place of it to fill it in with another story, just that Galadriel’s seen things. Worse things than anyone else. Things. Stuff. She’s seen some shit. Maybe, as the show goes on (I could only finish the first episode before I fell asleep), it’ll do its best to reference these things as much as it can, but it can never overcome its fundamental problem: It’s trying to tell a story about events that it cannot reference and it’s not a strong enough show to overcome that with what it can tell us.

#lumi.txt #tolkien stuff #rings of power

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glorf1ndel · 1 month

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Glorestor please!!! (silm blog @mae-it-be-an-evening-dhros)

Your ask inspired me to write the first chapter of a Glorestor fic! Hope you enjoy. :D Also on Ao3 here!

Darling (800 words, Glorestor)

“Who’s the cutest little thing of all time?”

Not again, Erestor thought. The counselor was standing in the corridor outside Elrond’s office, talking to Lindir about Second Age musicians, but at the sound of Glorfindel’s voice, he pursed his lips in annoyance. Over the past few weeks, the captain had become overly flirtatious with the counselor. It was almost as if he knew about Erestor’s interest in him; after all, who in Imladris hadn’t fallen in love with the golden-haired hero of Gondolin? But no, Erestor kept a tight lid on his feelings. Still, Glorfindel would take every opportunity to mess with him, whether they were alone or in public. Random touches, winking, even the occasional whisper in Erestor’s ear. And the worst part of it all? The pet names. Quite frankly, being called cutie or sweetheart was becoming unbearable.

Erestor whirled around, prepared to tell the captain off–

“I’ve had enough of this nonsense, Glorfindel–“

Only to find himself facing, yes, Glorfindel, but also… A cat? A kitten, actually. The captain had crouched down and was petting the small, furry creature, his gaze filled with adoration. Upon hearing the counselor, he looked up and smiled.

“Erestor! Come see who I found!” Glorfindel picked up the kitten, then rose to his feet. “Aren’t you the sweetest, most lovely baby?” He cooed.

Erestor hesitated, his words catching in his throat.

“Oh, Eru, you thought he was talking to you?” Lindir whispered.

“Shut up, Lindir!”

“Come here,” Glorfindel called again.

Erestor took a deep breath and walked over. Thankfully, Lindir did not follow, but his laughter echoed down the corridor. At least Glorfindel seemed to not have heard the minstrel’s teasing, or that would have been the end of Erestor.

“I just found this kitten wandering the corridors.”

Shaking off his nerves, Erestor took a good look at the kitten, which had settled comfortably in Glorfindel’s arms. A girl, he acknowledged. The kitten had long, black hair and blue eyes that were slowly closing as she fell asleep.

“I think I’m going to keep her. What should her name be?”

“She probably belongs to someone, Glorfindel.”

“Well, I suppose I can ask around. But if nobody says anything, she’s mine.”

“All right.” Erestor said with a shrug. “I don’t know how you have time to take care of a cat.”

“They’re not very high maintenance. I had one back in Gondolin; his name was Sunnybell. He was always wandering around the grounds, doing what he pleased.”

Erestor smiled slightly. Whenever Glorfindel talked about his time in Gondolin before the city’s fall, it was with a fondness that lit up his face. Even Erestor could not deny that seeing Glorfindel smile was a pleasant thing.

“Well, I hope you can come up with a better name for this one than Sunnybell.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” Glorfindel mused, “she kind of looks like you. With the black hair and blue eyes.” He stroked the kitten’s fur gently. “Maybe I’ll name you Erestor.”

“Absolutely not. Besides, Erestor is not a name for a female cat.”

“Erestorellë, then.”

“Glorfindel, I am vetoing your giving that cat any version of my name.”

“Aww, but wouldn’t you want the most adorable sweetheart in the world to be called Erestor?”

He snorted and crossed his arms. The words left his mouth immediately:

“From all the ridiculous things you’ve been saying lately, I thought I already was.”

Glorfindel stilled. Slowly, his gaze crept up from the kitten to Erestor. That was when Erestor realized he’d made a mistake, because the look in Glorfindel’s eyes was amused, yes, but more than that, it was knowing.

“Erestor, are you jealous of this cat?”

“What?” He hissed, fighting to keep himself from blushing. “Don’t be daft.”

Glorfindel shook his head, his blond curls swirling around his shoulders. The sudden movement made the kitten stir, and she started playing with Glorfindel’s hair. Oh, to be in Glorfindel’s arms, Erestor thought, like a fool.

“You are!” Glorfindel insisted. “You don’t want me to call this kitten cute, or sweet, or lovely, because you want to be the only one I call those things.”

“What I want is to wipe that smug look off your face.”

“With your lips.”

“You are a horrible Elf,” Erestor said, because how in Middle Earth was he supposed to respond to that? “Stop teasing me. And don’t give this cat my name.”

Glorfindel only shrugged, which gave Erestor an opening to walk away. He swiveled on his heel, prepared to flee the scene. Of course, Glorfindel chose that very moment to call out,

“If you say so, darling!”

Keep walking, Erestor told himself, even as Glorfindel’s laughter made his heart ache. He would have to spend less time around the captain, especially now that Glorfindel had found the kitten. It would not do to get used to this.

#lotr #lord of the rings #silm #silmarillion #glorestor #glorfindel #erestor #lindir #tolkien #tolkien fic #lotr fanfic #silm fic

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annoyinglandmagazine · 1 year

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Silmarillion dancing headcanons

I feel like dance is a pretty important part of Elvish culture right? I generally imagine their dancing a little like set dancing but a lot more elaborate and flowing. Like the movements are a bit more natural and they don’t keep their arms at their side like we do in Irish dance. It’s mainly the fast and elaborate footwork that I feel they would really enjoy. They also dance in pairs sometimes and it’s a little more intimate than traditional in set dancing incorporating elements of slow dancing but at a very fast pace. All this to say, I’ve become ridiculous attached to the idea of Maedhros and Fingon causing political uproar by joining in and pairing up for a dance at a big event during the Union of Maedhros. Like it’s meant to be a political statement about unity and they start by clasping hands at shoulder level and following the steps carefully with perfect posture. But not even halfway through Maedhros is lifting Fingon’s feet off the ground by holding his waist as they spin around and they’re just laughing and completely forgetting everything around them. They twirl each other around and follow the steps with their hands on each other’s hips and waists pressed way closer together than necessary. Maedhros is way too focused on the way Fingon’s smile lights up his face and Fingon is entranced by the way the firelight makes Maedhros’ newly grown out hair glint like real flames.

I will also die on the hill that they develop knife dancing at some point during the first age. Like it’s normal fast paced jigging and spinning and then people start hurling knives over each others heads and catching and twirling them. I feel like that’s exactly the sort of reckless needlessly self endangering activity the Noldor would come up with. Maglor and Maedhros probably use this as a training exercise for Elrond and Elros to let them have a bit of fun for once.

This reaches it’s peak around the early second age after the War of Wrath, when everyone is still carrying knives at their belts and reflexes are wired for battle but for once feels like they can properly enjoy themselves in recreation and let go a little. So what I’m saying is that in the early days of Lindon when they didn’t have dignitaries from other cities around to be shocked by it, they wouldn’t have formal parties in ballrooms or anything like that, they’d start a big bonfire somewhere and have this absolutely insane, wild ceilí dance involving a lot of knives. And Elrond absolutely loves it. He’s one of the best, particularly at the dances involving knives (go figure), and he’s sometimes viewed as a slightly more feral version of Luthien. Gil Galad once jokingly said Tinuviel, while they were dancing together and one of the knives Elrond threw to him was aimed rather closer to his head than Elrond would normally allow. Him and Elros try to teach it to some of the Numenoreans once but they all look at them like they’re insane. Imladris has a similar policy of toning it down among visitors but Aragorn does pick it up after growing up there and the fellowship are all pretty appalled when he tries to explain it to them. When he asks Legolas to back him up Legolas says that it is not actually an Elvish thing it’s just an “Elrond was raised feral in the woods by kinslayers” kind of thing.

#Silmarillion #dancing #elrond peredhel #feral elrond #Russingon

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