grey-gazania

[grey-gazania]

Fingolfin

Based on a Chinese Drama costume. I haven't watched the show, in fact I don't know from which show is. But when I saw the outfit, the colours screamed House of Fingolfin, so I went for it.

#fingolfin

[grey-gazania]

@feanorianweek day 7- Curufinwë Fëanáro and Nerdanel Istarnië

#feanor #nerdanel

[grey-gazania]

maglor and maedhros look southward from himring

#maedhros #maglor

[grey-gazania]

Arien and the Sun :)

#arien

[grey-gazania]

Vingilotë is small and swift and vicious.

The swan ships of the Teleri were tall, high, gilded things, glittering with many-colored banners and lights. They shone under their lanterns like stars in the dark sea. They would be garlanded in flowers for dances, and the music had soaked into their boards and echoed out—until, they say, the very end. They had sung a spinning dance tune, high and forlorn, when they burned. It had faltered as the boards cracked and kindled, and crumbled to ash.

And Vingilotë, their kinswoman, is sleek and sharp and quiet as death. She is fair, yes, fair and graceful. She could not be otherwise, crafted as she was, beloved of Círdan the Shipwright and Eärendil the Mariner. She is fair like the neck of a heron or the edge of a knife.

She was built for a desperate, wretched journey against enchantment and the wrathful sea. She was built in fear and mourning and the cold hope of the doomed.

She is fair and bright and very small amidst the sea.

#vingilot #swan ships

[grey-gazania]

House lineage

#feanor #celebrimbor #curufin

[grey-gazania]

oromë, lord of forests and hunter of beasts

#orome

[grey-gazania]

“Nerdanel also was firm of will, but more patient than Fëanor, desiring to understand minds rather than to master them, and at first she restrained him when the fire of his heart grew too hot; but his later deeds grieved her, and they became estranged.” - the silmarillion.

#nerdanel #feanor

[grey-gazania]

fëanorian kiddos

#sons of feanor

[grey-gazania]

when you’re watching fellowship of the ring with your friends it is 100% vital to point to the screen when the balrog shows up and say “in the books this is when legolas starts screaming”

#legolas #laugh rule

[grey-gazania]

December; the 7th

Faramir

I am lowkey in love with him. Platonic. BUT I WOULD MARRY HIM IF EOWYN WAS OUT OF THE PICTURE! I love him so much.

#faramir

[grey-gazania]

#finrod #celegorm #curufin

[grey-gazania]

For @silmarillionepistolary day 7, Remembrance and New Beginnings! Artwork at the bottom.

Night has fallen. The lamps have been turned low, the house cleaned, the bedtime routine completed; all Maglor and Maedhros have left to do is tuck the twins and read them their customary story.

They look so small wrapped in the red wool blankets, like two little birds in a crimson nest. They are quiet, too, waiting patiently for Maglor to ask his routine question: “Now, what story would you like tonight? Or would you rather hear a song?”

“I want the one about the Sun and the Moon!” Elros pipes up, scrunching the blanket in his hands eagerly.

Maglor smiles. “Is that what you want as well, Elrond?”

Elrond, the quieter twin, looks bashfully down before murmuring, “I’d like to see the picture book…”

Maglor shares a confused look with Maedhros. They did not own any picture books. “What do you mean?” Maedhros asks.

Elrond tips his head. “The one in your study,” he says. “It’s got gold string around it and lots of pictures on every page.”

Maedhros frowns. “You know you are forbidden from entering my study,” he reproaches.

Elrond bites his lip. “Yes, I know … I just saw the pictures and thought they were pretty.”

Maglor sees the telltale signs of a lecture in Maedhros’s expression, so he swiftly says, “Perhaps we can excuse it this once, if you promise to ask before you touch our things.”

Both Elrond and Elros nod emphatically, and Maglor leaves the room to search for the ‘picture book’ in his brother’s study, which is packed with volumes, scrolls, and papers. Maglor thinks it will take him forever to find the book Elrond described, if it exists at all, but surprisingly he easily locates it in the first bookshelf: a worn book of red leather, tied with a fading gold ribbon. It is familiar to him, but he cannot recollect why until he brings it back into the twins’ room. Maedhros’s eyes widen when he sees it. “Grandfather’s sketchbook? I thought that was lost ages ago!”

“It was in a box in the back,” Elrond supplies.

Maglor looks down at it, a stab of nostalgia and old grief passing through him. “I thought we never even brought it,” he murmurs.

“Can we read it?” Elros asks, leaning forward curiously.

Maedhros frowns, his reluctance clear. There are many memories neither of them want to relive, the life and death of their grandfather among the most heartbreaking. But many of the memories Finwë recorded in his beloved sketchbook were his happiest, from both his life and the rest of his family’s. And the two young children looking up at Maglor are also Finwë’s family … and he wants to share something of his life that is not just the blood on his hands.

The spine of the book cracks softly as he opens it, and the yellowed paper releases a small puff of dust, but the artwork on the inside is still as lovely and life-filled as the day he penned them.

Maglor explains each piece as he showed it to the twins, and lets them look as long as they like. Even Maedhros sometimes asks him to wait a little longer on certain pages, the heavy, dark look in his eyes brightening when he remembers his childhood in Valinor.

It is well past midnight by the time they reach the last pages, and all of them are surprised to see that they are all in full color, when all the previous pages have been only graphite sketches.

“Who are they?” Elros breathes, tracing his finger delicately over the meticulously painted faces.

Maglor swallows, his throat and his eyes clogged with tears. His brother, too, is at a loss for words.

“It’s them,” Elrond says, looking up at the Fëanorians and then back down at thd drawings. “Maglor and Maedhros are right there … but Maedhros looks different …”

It was true. Maglor and Maedhros, along with all of their brothers - still alive and smiling radiantly - and their parents. On the other pages, their cousins and uncles and aunts, before any of them had suffered the horrors of Morgoth.

“That is us,” Maedhros murmurs. “That was us then. We were so happy..."

“What was it like … then?” Elros ventures.

Maglor smiles. “I will tell you.”

“Tomorrow night,” Maedhros interrupts. “It is very late, and if you are to understand a word we say, you must be well-rested.”

#maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #sons of feanor #kidnap family

[grey-gazania]

Celegorm || Drawn sometime in 2014-2018

#celegorm #huan

[grey-gazania]

to be the oldest of seven

#maedhros #sons of feanor

[grey-gazania]

"Hail, and well met at last!" said the Elf-lord to Frodo. "I was sent from Rivendell to look for you. We feared that you were in danger upon the road."

#frodo #glorfindel

[grey-gazania]

Young Ereinion lecture note doodle

#gil galad