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gwaedhannen · 4 months

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[Excerpt from Sorrow Beyond Words: Collected Testimony of the War of Wrath, 4th Edition; ed. Elrond Peredhel. Archive of Cîw Annúminas, inaugural collection]

“Simply reaching Menegroth was a struggle. Doriath had become a twisting nightmare of overgrowth and rot and mists, as Morgoth’s power warred with the remains of the Girdle and our old songs. Ai, our home, our haven! I know the name of every holly in Region, before the exile. We found deadfalls surrounded by dozens of animals who’d lain down beside the trees and rotted before they died. Blind moose more antler than flesh staggered towards us even after a dozen arrows. Vines covered in dripping thorns reached for our eyes. The cherry trees were overladen with fruits that smelled like gangrene. Deildhod stumbled into a nest of maddened vipers, and only escaped because their tails were all tangled together into a festering mass and could hardly move. We never saw or heard a single bird. I’m amazed we lost no one in that whole push through Region. No, I speak a lie. I know how we passed through with nothing worse than scrapes. Elrond was with us, and the ghost of Melian’s love still recognized her kin.

“Esgalduin had nearly been dammed by one of Hírilorn’s fallen boles, but the bridge still held. We crossed and reached the ruined gates, wrought twice and broken twice. Within there was only darkness to be seen; we knew not what manner of horrors Morgoth had sent to infest the city, but Ingwion was unwilling to leave them at the rear of his forces as he moved north, if it could be helped. Celeborn stood at Elrond’s right and myself at his left. Far less an honor guard than the heir of Elu Thingol and Melian Besain deserved. Yet in those dark days it was all the honor we could muster. King Dior Eluchíl had known thirty-six summers when he was unrighteously slain. Queen Elwing Nimaew thirty-five when despair took her to the sea. Lord Elrond Peredhel beheld the city of Elu for the first and only time in his twenty-ninth summer.

“Elrond stood before his inheritance and Sang. He sang a lament, for the lost endless years of joy and peace, for deep halls lit by birdsong and echoing with wisdom, for the Forsaken People who awoke the forest and earth with many voices, for the works of beauty never to be seen again on this side of the sea. He sang a promise, that the glory of Menegroth will be remembered in the songs of Middle-Earth for as long as its children endure. He sang thanks, for the protection the halls granted us until it could shelter us no more. As his song at last ceased, I thought I heard nightingales answering him.

“Stars shone on his brow, and his hair glistened as the vault of night, and the memories of our once-eternal bliss in the woods of Thingol’s realm under Elbereth’s gifts arose in my mind. Let Oropher dream of a deep hall for his own; let Celeborn reign where he will at his wife’s side! I knew in my heart, as the echo of nightingale songs faded, that there was no lord or king I would ever stand beside save Elrond Elwingion.

“The living stone in which our kingdom once thrived knew his voice, and at long last laid down its burden and passed. The darkness over Menegroth was lifted, and we went forth into its corpse, and no beast or orc could stand before us. I do not sing of what we found and left behind when we cast down the bridge and gave leave for the river to flood the caves. It is not worth remembering.”

#silmarillion #the silmarillion #tolkien #silm fic #elrond #doriath #menegroth #war of wrath #my OCs #war of wrath: sorrow beyond words #stormwritten #the Second Kinslaying occurred on this day in FA 506 #you can observe the day of remembrance by burning a Son of Feanor in effigy #in remembrance I'm writing Sindarin Elrond because I've seen too much Feanorian Elrond recently #the narrator is a former senior Marchwarden who escaped the Kinslaying and brought refugees over the mountains to Celeborn and Galadriel #she'll never forgive herself for not being at Sirion for the Third Kinslaying #she becomes one of Elrond's chief counselors and one of the heads of Rivendell's forces along with Glorfindel #she and Glorfindel were definitely at each other's throats for years until Elrond yelled at them to chill #they may have hatefucked #sorry Erestor #she either dies when Celebrían is captured #or leads the search for Celebrían and sails west with her #in either case she'll never forgive herself for failing #“Nimaew” = “white/pale bird” I think #a name given to Elwing after her leap #she doesn't know about it yet

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camille-lachenille · 10 months

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@tolkiengenweek DAY FIVE: Culture • Diversity • Traditions:

Being of the same age, rank and of similar enough mixed heritage, their parents and guardians had declared they should play together. Elwing glared at Eärendil, arms crossed on her chest. “You speak weird!” she declared with a definitive tone.

Ëarendil glared back. “You speak weird!” he replied with a pout. “I speak just like my ammë and my papa speak.”

“They speak weird too!” Elwing countered. “And I learned how to speak like a princess with Lord Oropher and Nellas.” She didn’t say that Lord Oropher was a stuffy old grump and Nellas called her Lúthien on the days she was less present. She didn’t say she had no parents to pick language tics and mannerism from.

Eärendil’s frown softened. “Maybe you can teach me how to speak like the people here?” he asked with uncertainty. “And I can teach you songs in exchange?”

Elwing nodded firmly and extended a had for him to shake. “We have a deal!”

From that moment on, they were best friends, and one was never seen without the other. Elwing taught proper Sindarin to Eärendil, and hand games with silly songs in Iathrim Sindarin. He taught her to play hopscotch in the sand. “In Gondolin I drew it on the stone with the colourful chalks Glorfindel gave me,” he said as he traced the grid on the beach with seashells and driftwood. “But this is pretty too.” The song to play hopscotch was in Gondolindrim Quenya, and Elwing felt she was doing something very bad by speaking this language. She asked Eärendil to teach her more of this forbidden language. He taught her Taliska, too, his father’s language.

They were thirteen and Eärendil spent his summer apprenticing with the carpenters at the heavens of Sirion. He came back each evening with splinters on his hands and sea shanties in the Falathrim dialect with lyrics that made them giggle and blush when they sang together. Elwing made him Lembas for his first day of sailing. “The receipt comes from my ancestress Melian,” she told him. “Only the highest ranking lady of the Sindar can make and give Lembas, and only to people she deems worthy.” Eärendil beamed at her as he accepted the leaf-wrapped package.

On the eve of the first day of summer, the refugees from Gondolin all regrouped around Idril on the easternmost square of Sirion, and, from Midnight to Dawn, stood silent there. At the first light of day, they sung laments in their old language. The year they turned fifteen, Eärendil brought Elwing with him. “It was a night of celebration, when I was a child, Tarnin Austa,” he explained after the silence was broken and the laments sung. “Now it is a night to remember the fallen city of Gondolin and all those who died defending our escape, and all those who couldn’t escape the fire.” When his voice cracked at the end, it was not because he was a teenage boy but because of the grief. Elwing held his hands as he cried.

They were twenty and both adults by the laws of Men when Idril and Tuor decided to try sail West. Elwing gave them plenty of lembas and blessed their ship the Falalathrim way. Eärendil said his farewell in the mix of Quenya and Taliska proper to his family. He stood on the pier until the ship disappeared on the horizon. Elwing stood with him, wondering if she would ever leave Sirion. Life at the mouths of the sea was hard and grimmer by the day but it was all she had ever known, no matter how much the surviving lords and ladies of Doriath had tried to raise her in the culture if her birth. Idril and Tuor, a Noldo and a Man, were more her parents than Dior and Nimloth ever had the chance to be. She spoke Sindarin with the undefined accent of Sirion, this ragtag town of exiles and refugees from all over Beleriand. Elwing was as much an Elf as she was a Daughter of Men, she was all and nothing at the same time. And, as she silently walked back to her house, she knew she wouldn’t want it another way.

#tolkiengenweek #tolkien #the silmarillion #elwing #eärendil #sirion #ficlet #fanfiction #diversity #culture

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rosie-love98 · 2 months

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The Women Of Oropher's House:

Winduirost:

Wife of Oropher and mother of Thranduil.

Name means “Windy Rain” in Sindarin. She was called this due to her gray eyes.

Daughter of Tauraear (“Vast Ocean”) and Erinmidh (“Morning-Dew”).

Was sister to an elder brother named “Duinlung” (“Riverbend”) and a younger sister called “Loebnen” (“Fresh-Water). Along with their parents, both Duinlung and Loebnen would be killed during an Orc attack in the First Age 585. Winduirost was the sole survivor when Oropher had managed to rescue her.

Married Oropher in the First Age 588 and made the move to Mirkwood with him.

Had the unique trait of having golden-blonde hair. This may be the result of a Vanyar or Noldor ancestor.

Winduirost didn’t think highly of the Silvans of Mirkwood. This was why she was against Thranduil marrying her handmaiden, Lisselote.

When Oropher gave Thranduil and Lisselote his blessing to their engagement, a petty Winduirost gave Lisselote dozens of hard tasks to prove her worth.

When Oropher perished during the War Of The Last Alliance, Winduirost would soften her harsh judgment thanks to Lisslote’s kindness towards the grieving queen.

Sailed to the Undying Lands in the Third Age 87, shortly after the birth of her grandson, Legolas.

Despite (somewhat) softening her cold disposition, it still didn’t stop Winduirost’s initial objection to Legolas’s romance with the Wingildi, Nenselde. Though, in Winduirost’s defense, she had more legit reasons.

Lisselote:

Wife of Thranduil and mother of Legolas.

Name means “Honey-Blossom” due to having honey-blonde hair.

Daughter of Malinurin (“Yellow-Sun”) and Tuilevire (“Spring Rose”).

Had a younger sister named “Incadaisime” (“Small Daisy”).

Was a hand-maiden to Queen Winduirost when Lisselote became acquainted with Thranduil.

Married Thranduil in the Second Age 3500. They were engaged back in 3429 but they were forced to halt the wedding due to the War Of The Last Alliance breaking out.

Was given the White Gems Of Lasgalen as a wedding gift from Winduirost on the late Oropher’s behalf.

During an Orc attack on Mirkwood, Lisselote was kidnapped by the enemy and taken to Angmar where she’d be tortured to death.

Her untimely demise was sacrificial as the Orcs were trying to find and kill the then-infant Legolas. Little did they know Lisselote had given Legolas to her maid-servants who were already protecting the other Mirkwood Elflings (including little Tauriel).

This Orc siege had also cost the lives of Tuileveire and Incadaisime. As for Malinurin, he had already died during the War Of The Last Alliance.

Nenselde:

Wife of Legolas and mother of Marillalote.

Is the very last of all the Wingildi (“Foam-Maidens”) to have been created.

Name means “Sea-Child” in Sindarin.

Unlike the Wingildis, she was made with the tear of Nienna. As a result, she was made and grew as an Elf child rather than a grown adult like her sisters. Yet, the other side-effect was that Nenselde was prone to grief and depression.

When Nenselde was a small, Elf child, she was given to Osse and Uinen to raise along with Wingildis.

By the time she turned 200-years-old, the now adult Nenselde would be so overwhelmed with her depression that she left her family for seclusion within the Bay Of Belfalas.

As much as she loved her family, Nenselde forbade herself from returning to them. The likes of Gandalf and Cirdan even tried to talk with her but whenever that arrived at Belfalas, a nervous Nenselde would hide away from them.

For centuries, Nenselde would be all alone at the bay until the Fourth Age arrived. From the Fourth Age 190-220, she would have mysterious visions of Prince Legolas Of Mirkwood. From all of these shared visions, the two would grow romantically close.

Yet, as Nenselde longed to be with Legolas and his friends in the Undying Lands, she was still torn with the Bay Of Belfalas.

To make matters worse, their shared dreams would be corrupted by an evil force, the Dark Tree Cult that also made both Legolas and Nenselde undergo a deadly coma.

Still, by the Fourth Age 221, Nenselde would finally leave the Bay Of Belfalas and wed Legolas to the joy of Gimli Gloinul, Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Gandalf The White along with Thranduil and Winduirost.

Marillalote, Legolas and Nenselde’s daughter, would be born shortly after the wedding in the Fourth Age 225.

Marillalote:

Name means “Pearl-Blossom” in Quenya.

Was going to be called just "Marilla" but Legolas wanted to pay homage to his late mother.

Born in Tol Eressea, an island of the Undying Lands.

Thanks to having Gimli Gloinul as her godfather, she’s prone to having a Dwarf-like personality; adventurous, strong-willed, along with being able to forge and wield an ax. This is why she’s often called “Dwarf-Kin”.

Also, like a Dwarf, Marillalote is knowledgeable on mining and jewelry-making.

Godmother was Legolas’s childhood friend, Tauriel.

As a Wingildi on her mother’s side, Marillalote inherited the ability to sing wildly.

By the time Marillalote was 20 (seven in Elf years), Gimli, Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee would all pass on peacefully.

Would eventually marry Elenimir (“Star-Jewel"), grandson of Elboron (son of Faramir and Eowyn) and his wife, Alasse (daughter of Aragorn and Arwen) in the Fourth Age 500.

Elenimir and Marillalote would later have two sons and two daughters.

#legolas #thranduil #oropher #the house of oropher #lord of the rings #the hobbit #its still hard to believe that legolas is older than arwen and the twins #gimli would make an awesome uncle #headcanon #lotr ocs #lotr oc headcanons #nenselde #nenselde the wingildi #nenselde lotr trading cards #the new shadow #tolkein the new shadow

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tathrin · 9 days

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I'm working on some Background Timeline Nonsense for my Celebrimbor In The Fellowship AU fic and trying to put together stuff in a way that both makes sense and is fun (and reconciles some of the Unfinished Tales mess). I've already blathered at poor @babybat98 about this, but I figure I might as well subject the rest of you all to it share it here too, in case anyone has Thoughts or Suggestions:

A Timeline of the Lords of the Woodland Elves.

506 F.A. Doriath is sacked (about 30 years before the Third Kinslaying at Sirion).

By 511 F.A., refugees from Gondolin and a few Drúadain joined them there, and by 525 Earendil and Elwing were wed and ruling the Havens of Sirion.

539 F.A., the last of the Fëanorians show-up in Sirion and do their usual silmaril-slaughter, and Elwing jumps off the cliff. The Havens are left in ruins, and Morgoth has control of all Beleriand, blah blah blah.

545 F.A. the Host of the Valar land in Beleriad. The War of Wrath begins.

590 F.A. Morgoth defeated, War of Wrath ends, First Age ends. *Galadriel probably doesn't actually marry Celeborn until now, possibly because of the whole "don't marry during war" thing the Calaquendi tend to do? unclear, because everything involving them is unclear lmao

1 S.A. the Grey Havens are built in Lindon, the only place in Beleriand that really survived the War of Wrath.

By 20 S.A. Galadriel and Celeborn leave Lindon, where Gil-galad is now king (probably crowned because of Galadriel's influence somehow? Unclear, again!). Galadriel and Celeborn go to Eriador and dwell near Lake Nenuial, where they are accounted "the Lord and Lady of the Eldar in Eriador" according to one version of the Unfinished Tales. They have a lot of Noldor, Grey-elves, and Green-elves with them at this time. Now for the fun backstory stuff...what if we say that Celeborn, Oropher, and Amdír were all basically BFFs from their youth in Doriath, and will remain thus for many years before the eventual splintering around 750 S.A.?

So, as of S.A. 10-20 when Galadriel and Celeborn leave Lindon, what if we say that Amdír and Oropher are with them also at this point, and with them their sons? They can be part of the company of mingled Noldor and Iathrim who are mentioned there at Lake Nenuial, with Celeborn (relative of Thingol) and Galadriel (sister of Finrod) as the "highest ranking" of their little quartet, and also the ones (especially Galadriel) who care the most about rank/leadership, and thus fall naturally into that role both in behavior and in the eyes of everyone around them, while Amdír and Oropher are more advisors/etc (maybe they end up in charge of guarding everybody, as the Warriors of the group). Amroth could be as young as 110 right now if he was just a wee little lad when Doriath was destroyed, barely an adult, or at any rate easily less than 200 yet. Perhaps Amdir never made it to Sirion at all, and only rejoined his son after the War of Wrath? (Perhaps Amdir's mom died in the Kinslaying, like Nellglind?) Regardless, Galadriel and/or Celeborn could have been doing most of the looking-after of him during the War either way, and thus we get Amroth as sort of "their kid" like he was in that draft, while not actually being their son which wouldn't make sense. Maybe Celeborn looked after both Amroth and Thranduil while the other adults were involved more in the fighting, given that picturing either Amdir or Oropher NOT fighting if they were still in Beleriand at this point is difficult (albeit not impossible: they could always have gone "fuck this shit, this is a Calaquendi Problem, you deal with it") and Galadriel is The Mighty One while Celeborn is more chill (and because I like not having The Woman be the one doing the child-minding lol). Alternatively, they could have all fought to varying degrees, with young Thranduil the one charged with looking after younger Amroth? idk most of the War of Wrath is pretty hand-wavy even in Tolkien's stuff so this can stay vague lol

At any rate, we pick-up the thread with our next Known(ish) event:

300 S.A. is when Celebrían is probably born. At this point, her parents are presumably still in Eriador. So, we could have them all living together as a little found family unit of survivors at Lake Nenuial, with Amroth and Thranduil acting as sort of older brothers/cousins to Celebrian. Perhaps she has more of a brotherly relationship with Amroth, who is younger, and a little more distance between her and Thranduil, because he's so much older (and lived through the trauma of everything more directly)? He sees himself as the Sensible And Mature One who has to look out for the younger/more naive kids, perhaps? At some point, of course, there must be some kind of a falling-out of some sort between Oropher and Galadriel/Celeborn, because we need to have some reason as the driving factor (combined with the increasing numbers of Dwarves in Moria, which we know Oropher wasn't pleased by; hello Doriath Trauma Round One!) for him to do the whole "moved his people north three times" from the original location of Amon Lanc in order to avoid being near Galadriel and Celeborn in Lórien. Perhaps the falling-out can be traced back to Ost-in-Edhil somehow?

750 S.A. is approximately when Eregion is founded, and construction is begun on Ost-in-Edhil. 750 S.A. is also around when we're told that Oropher and Amdir took up lordship of their respective Silvan lands (although I'm already deviating from those details a bit because fuck colonialism lol; but that's easy enough to do and still claim canon-compliance due to the vagueness of all of this in "canon" anyway, so we'll still use that as the rough date of when the Sindar refugees came to Laurelindórenan/Greenwood, and just say the whole "king" thing in Greenwood happened later and the Noldorian historians never caught the nuances, shhh) So if we extrapolate from all that... What if the falling-out happens because of Eregion? What if Amdir and Oropher are not about to accept an open and friendly relationship with the local Dwarves, after what happened to Thingol and Doriath; and Galadriel, with her foresight and her stubbornness and her Noldorin love of craft (and the fact that her first main trauma was Alqualondë long before the Sindar were scarred by the Battle of a Thousand Caves), refuses to let her Goals™️ be held hostage to their grudges and trauma, and insists that the only way forward for this land is hand-in-hand with the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. Celeborn reluctantly sides with his wife (even though he loathes dwarves as much as any of them) over his friends, and Amdir and Oropher go off in a huff with those others of the Elves of Eriador who aren't interested in More Noldorin Bullshit, crossing the mountains and joining with the Silvan Elves in the east. So:

750 S.A. Amdir and Oropher leave with a group of followers, while Galadriel and Celeborn found Ost-in-Edhil with Celebrimbor, the two of them being taken as Lord and Lady of Eregion while he's (presumably) just in charge of the smiths for now.

1000 S.A. Sauron, not wanting to start shit with the western elves or Numenorians right not because they're too strong (and presumably just not giving a shit about the little Wood-elves in their forests), beings building Barad-dûr.

1200 S.A. Sauron tries to beguile the Elves of Lindon, and Gil-galad tells him to fuck-off. He tries again in Eregion, and despite Galadriel going "big nope!" the Gwaith-i-Mírdain there welcome him.

1350 S.A. Sauron manages to get Galadriel ousted from Ost-in-Edhil, and Celebrimbor becomes lord of the place. Galadriel and Celebrían leave via Moria, and spend a while in Khazad-dûm with their dwarven friends before making their way eventually to their old friend Amdir and foster-son/brother Amroth in Lórien, where they are welcomed, and Galadriel and Amdir reconcile (possibly enthusiastically, possibly awkwardly) but Celeborn, refusing to step foot in a dwarven kingdom, stays in Eregion, where he is "disregarded" by Celebrimbor. So I like to picture him skulking about as That Grumpy Old Man muttering and scowling at everybody as they pat him on the head and go "there, there grandpa" and whisper apologies to whatever dwarf he's offended today.

1500 S.A. by this time, the Seven and the Nine are made, and Sauron leaves to go make the One Ring in secret in Mordor.

1600 S.A. Sauron makes the One Ring and proclaims himself as Sauron, and ready for war. Celebrimbor goes OH FUCKSHIT and runs through Moria to consult with Galadriel in Lórien. He gives her Nenya, and she convinces him to send the other two to Gil-galad in Lindon, and get them the fuck out of Ost-in-Edhil.

1605 S.A. Sauron's immediate attempt to start said war is potentially delayed by the first two of the Istari, the Blue Wizards, who in a much later draft of Tolkien's actually came to Middle-earth during the Second Age, long before the rest of them, rather than all coming over together. Instead, he had them come over with Glorfindel, and while Glorfindel hung around to help Gil-galad et al they made their way East, to try and save the tribes of Men who had fallen under Morgoth's worship, and to discover where Sauron was hiding, and work against him. I think I want to go with that version, simply because I like the idea of Glorfindel coming back with some of the Istari? But I ALSO like the idea of him having fought in the Last Alliance, which means I need him to come over before Gandalf, Saruman, and Radagast do in the Third Age. So this splits the difference nicely! So, as of 1600: the valar have gone "oh fuck!" and thrown two maia and one reborn elf on a boat and thrown them back to Middle-earth to clean-up the leftovers of the mess left by the War of Wrath when they failed to drag Morgoth's most powerful lieutenant back to face judgement in Valinor OOPSIES, presumably because they figured out that Shit Was Hitting The Fan thanks to the whole One Ring Thing being big enough to be Noticed By The Powers lol Anyway, thanks to Morinehtar and Rómestámo being fucking badass, Sauron's plans for war are delayed several years, and Celebrimbor has time to hide the Three and presumably to warn the Dwarves about the Seven. Ooh, what if we say that he's been spending a lot of this time trying to devise some way of un-linking the Rings from the One Ring? He apparently has the Nine with him when Eregion falls, and Sauron just takes those, but the Seven and the Three aren't there; maybe he was working on the Nine, and knew the Seven were safe in Khazad-dûm where his dwarven smith-friends were doing the same there? And that's why he never tried to destroy them: he was still holding out hope they could be saved, be fixed. That he wouldn't have to destroy the greatest things he ever made, and all the hopes he put into them. He just needed a little more time...

1693 S.A. the War of the Elves and Sauron (finally) begins.

1695 S.A. Sauron slinks through the Gap of Rohan, thus avoiding the Elves in the Greenwood and Lórien, and invades Eriador. Thanks to the Númenóreans having cut down many of the Trees of Minhiriath and Enedwaith, the people in these lands welcomed Sauron's conquest and let him pass without trouble. (Well done, Númenor! Didn't anyone ever teach you deforestation is bad?) Celeborn leads the forces from Eregion (presumably having said "I told you so" to Celebrimbor a few times) and they manage to defeat the first wave of Sauron's army, but are then overwhelmed and forced back to Ost-in-Edhil. Gil-galad hears about this and sends Elrond leading a force from Lindon to help, and also sends messages to Númenor pleading for help. Nobody answers (men, pah!). Elrond's force is too small, and can't break-through to get to Eregion to help.

1697 S.A. Ost-in-Edhil falls. Celebrimbor is tortured into giving up the location of the Seven, but dies without revealing the Three. Sauron, not being an entire idiot, guesses that they're most likely with Galadriel and Gil-galad anyway, but is pissy about being resisted, and turns Celebrimbor into a banner that he carries into battle. Elrond's tiny army is about to be overrun when the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm attack Sauron from the rear, along with the force of elves that Amroth has led through Moria from Lórien, (because whatever Issues™️ his father might have with Dwarves, he's not about to let his foster-father die). This allows Elrond to gather the survivors of Ost-in-Edhil, including presumably Celeborn, and flee. The Dwarves are driven back as well, but they shut the Doors of Moria and Sauron can't get in. Haha, thwarted by Celebrimbor and his previous sweetheart, sucks to be you Sauron! The Doors of Durin are apparently not opened again until the Fellowship of the Ring comes to them (although that doesn't make sense, because Gandalf and Aragorn both passed through Moria at least once before LotR, so they must have been opened at some point; but perhaps the text only means they were not left open again after this point, and is not referring to when/if they were ever opened from inside by someone walking through and out?). The retreating elves found the stronghold of Rivendell, to which many of the survivors of Eregion flee. (Celeborn, presumably, says "I told you so" a lot at this point too, but not often enough for them to murder him.) The rest scatter, some fleeing Middle-earth altogether and some disappearing into the Wild with others fleeing through Khazad-dûm (before the Doors are shut, presumably) thanks to their dwarven friends, and make their way eventually to Lórien, where they join their fellows who left Ost-in-Edhil earlier and merge with the Silvans and Sindar there.

by 1700 S.A. Sauron has overrun all of Eriador except for Rivendell, which is besieged, and Lindon, where Gil-galad is also barely holding him off at the River Lhûn and Mithlond. Finally the Nûmenorian fleet arrives, and kicks Sauron's ass all the way back to Tharbad, although he burns the forests of Minhiriath and Enedwaith as he goes. He gets caught in a pincer between the main force and a smaller one that Ciryatur landed at Gwathló behind him, and barely escaped "with his bodyguard" to Dagorlad. It is unclear at this point if Sauron actually HAS any or all of the Seven, or just knows where they are; sources say that Durin at least was given his Ring by Celebrimbor himself, so perhaps Sauron never actually manages to collect all the Seven at this point? but still has his original influence over them. He does have the Nine, we know, because he gathered them up when he came to Ost-in-Edhil and defeated Celebrimbor on the steps of the House of the Mírdain.

1701 S.A. the first Council is held in Imladris, when Galadriel and Celebrían come looking for Celeborn and meet-up with all the other leaders of the various forces of Elves and Men. They decide to make Rivendell the new elvish stronghold in Eriador, as Eregion is in ruins and remains thus. Gil-galad at this point gives Vilya to Elrond (it's unclear when Cirdan gets Narya, because of course is it; he might already have it, or he might not get it until Gil-galad marches to War in Mordor, although wtf was he thinking leaving Narya behind when he went to war just when he would need its power most? Gil-galad wtf mate???) and declares him his vice-regent. This is also when Elrond and Celebrían meet for the first time. (Presumably at this point her foster-brother Amroth teases her mercilessly about her very obvious crush on Gil-galad's pet peredhel, and she probably smacks the crap out of him for being a jerk.) At some point after this, Galadriel and Celeborn (and Celebrían presumably) leave Rivendell to live near the sea, probably because Galadriel was apparently "striken with sea-longing" the moment she put Nenya on. They go to Belfalas, which will be later called Dol Amroth, and apparently visit Lórien at least twice more before the end of the Second Age, but we don't know anything else about them here.

At this point, there isn't much relevant canon information until the Last Alliance happens, since most of what's going on of import now is happening in Numenor, but let's hit the highlights in case we want to expand on any of this later.

2251 S.A. the Nazgûl appear.

3262 S.A. Sauron taken to Numenor as a prisoner.

3319 S.A. Numenor sunk, Sauron flees back to Middle-earth, and the world is reshaped.

3429 S.A. Sauron seizes Minas Ithil.

3430 S.A. formation of the Last Alliance.

3431 S.A. the Last Alliance marches to Rivendell.

3434 S.A. the march to Mordor, and the Battle of Daglorlad, where Oropher and Amdir both die. Siege of Barad-dûr begins.

3441 S.A. Sauron defeated (for now), war is over. Thranduil and Amdir go home with their scant surviving forces.

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bitchysoulwasteland · 1 year

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Thranduil X Half!Dwarf Half!Elleth reader

···

GIF by the-butterfly-blues

GIF by leepace71

Thranduil didn't exactly like the idea that his wife's father was an absolute arsehole Thorin Oakenshield. He also didn't like the idea that he had to invite quite a few dwarves into his halls, but they were your halls too, and you had wanted to get the two races together. You were the Queen of Mirkwood and first in line for the throne of Durin.

Your father had had relations with an elleth later in times when Thranduil's father had still been on the throne. The elleth had been banished when King Oropher had found that the Captain Of The Guard. His guard. Was pregnant with a halfling. Especially a dwarf halfling.

The banished elleth was your mother.

Thranduil remembered her banishment as if it was yesterday, even if it was hundreds of years ago.

His father sat high upon his throne, looking upon the elleth as if she were nothing but an ant under his boot that had to be stepped on. "You have disappointed me, Rhawien. You have served my wife and I, as well as this kingdom for a great amount of time. I wish these were other circumstances. But, you have done something that goes against the very culture of elves. Therefore, you shall be banished from these halls and Greenwood for the rest of your time."

Thranduil watched as, with a nod of his head, two guards dragged your mother out of Greenwood as she begged for them to stop. To let her have the child then leave. Thranduil knew his father would never be that merciful. She was lucky enough that he was allowing her to leave rather than be killed straight away.

The prince had searched for years for the elleth, Rhawien. Forests, caves, mountains, but to no avail. He felt as though he was respnsible for getting her back into the kingdom. He'd had many argument with his father before his death about this, but his father, as usual, didn't listen. His search had to end when he was crowned king, his freedom somewhat ending with the search.

He had no idea that, when he met you, his search would finally be over.

He had met your father and you long before he had been with the company, (as you were already married, had given birth and raised Legolas by then) but never your mother. He had questioned you why, and you had told him. She had died a few years after you had been born, in battle, never to be seen again. Your father had removed any memory of her whatsoever from the mountain halls, but still she lingered in your mind. As if she was your guardian angel, always looking after you. He could understand the pain that Thorin had endured both after your mother's death and raising you with out a mother's touch. That was what his father had to do. He was just glad that you hadn't been taken from him whilst raising Legolas.

The king was pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of singing. He knew that both you and Legolas knew old dwarfish songs, as you used to sing them to him as a child, but what everyone was singing was one he had never herd. Apparently, Legolas knew it as he was singing from beside you.

"Ooooh! You hear that, lads? He said we'll blunt the knives!

… Blunt the knives, bend the forks Smash the bottles and burn the corks Chip the glasses and crack the plates That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

… Cut the cloth, tread on the fat Leave the bones on the bedroom mat Pour the milk on the pantry floor Splash the wine on every door!

… Dump the crocks in a boiling bowls Pound them up with a thumping pole When you're finished if they are whole Send them down the hall to roll

… That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

He saw you beaming whilst you sang, glass of wine in hand. 'Trust you to get drunk with the dwarves.' he thought as you turned to have a conversation with Bilbo, who was grinning as the music continued.

#Thranduil x reader

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carmisse · 1 month

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Gil-Galad as son of Russingon.

When Fingon finally delivered baby Ereinion, he was delighted when, after cleaning the child, he noticed traces of reddish hair on his little head, thus discovering that his son had inherited the hair of his beloved Nelyo, although the rest of the newborn was an exact copy of his own person.

However, although he is fascinated by this characteristic of his son, it becomes a problem when he has to hide it with Círdan, since there are not really many elves with red hair in Middle-earth, although the carpenter promises him that he will find a solution. Círdan, for his part, finds a recipe for a paste made from herbs with which he manages to dye the reddish locks of the young Ereinion so that he does not draw attention to himself. As he grows older, Ereinion wants to do the process himself, but it is usually a disaster. Círdan keeps helping him until he finally has to stop because someone else takes his place.

When Ereinion was courting Oropher, he inevitably had to confess to him the truth about his ancestry.

He confessed to him who his parents were, something that very few knew or were unaware of, even King Thingol himself.

He feared very much that his beloved would reject him since they were just beginning to trust each other after having spent the last year on each other's necks.

Oropher hesitated a little at the revelation, since it is not easy to digest that your lover is descended from the elder Fëanorian and Prince Fingon. However, he promises to keep Ereinion's secret as well as to help him with his hair, the latter with a laugh in his tone.

Ereinion just squeezes his fiancé in his arms and attacks him with kisses both careless and tender, Oropher for his part delights in his partner's touches before expressing his desire to see his future husband's reddish locks if that was possible.

When, after years of marriage, Oropher announces his pregnancy, they are both very happy but somewhat concerned about the features of the elfing on the way. He can't help but be relieved when Oropher introduces his son and he turns out to have inherited the distinctive Sindar hair, his husband however has a pout on his lips and mutters that he would have liked the baby to have reddish tresses all the same. Ereinion denies before kissing his husband while thanking him for little Thranduil. Oropher for his part continues to help his husband with his hair and as he grows, Thranduil is also getting involved, although his parents ask him to keep it a secret.

When Oropher leaves for Greenwood, he asks Elrond to help Ereinion with the matter, Elrond only nods to the consort of Gil-Galad.

At the end before the war of the last alliance, Gil-Galad no longer has time for such things, and after Oropher's death everything becomes even more irrelevant on the personal side.

When King Gil-Galad dies, he already has red hair.

However, no one dared to question Elrond and much to the now King Thranduil about it.

#erenion gil galad #russingon #oropher #gil galad x oropher #gil galad/oropher #cirdan #elrond peredhel #thranduil oropherion #silm headcanons #silmarillion headcanon #gil galad

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catofadifferentcolor · 1 year

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Terrible Fic Ideas #24: LotR, but make it half-Maia!Legolas

I honestly thought I was done with Legolas headcanons, but then this one hit me over the head: what if Legolas’ mother was a Maia?

Bear with me:

We are given little-to-no information about Legolas’ background in canon. The only thing we know for sure is that his father, Thranduil, was originally from Doriath and has been ruling Mirkwood since his own father, Oropher, died of his own poor tactical thinking in the War of the Last Alliance.

But what if we know nothing about Legolas' background because no one in Middle Earth has any idea either?

Just imagine it:

After the War of Wrath, Oropher led his people into the Greenwood and established himself as king over the local population. However this came about, "The few Sindar who had come with him were soon merged with the Silvan Elves, adopting their customs and language and taking names of Silvan form and style. Oropher and his household wished to return to a simple existence natural to the Elves before they had been disturbed by the Valar" [x].

I'm not quite sure what Silvan elves got up to before Greenwood became Mirkwood, but I imagine it involved a lot of frolicking and hunting in the woods, and generally living up to the stereotype forest-dwelling immortal spirits at one with nature. And Thranduil, being the prince of this realm, would be naturally be the best of them all.

I imagine this catches the eye of one of the more minor Maiar sometime in the Second Age - a hunter in Oromë's retinue, most likely, but someone in Vána's retinue could possibly work too.

Thranduil strikes up a relationship with this Maia whenever she passes through, because unlike Melian a hunter of Oromë wouldn't be content to stay in one bounded woods when there are things to hunt across Arda and Aman. It is the epitome of a long-distance relationship.

Key to all of this is that Thranduil never tells anyone her identity. Oh, he very obviously is in a relationship and will disappear for weeks at a time throughout the Second Age to be with his wife, but no one ever meets her - or, as they assume she's just some Silvan elf with no interest in being princess or queen, admits to being her.

Thranduil goes off with his father to fight in the War of the Last Alliance. Unlike his father, he lives and returns to the Greenwood as king of his people.

Shortly after he returns, his Maiar wife presents him with baby!Legolas to raise and rejoins Oromë's hunt. Depending on his actual age when given to Thranduil, Legolas may even have some youthful memories of hunts he spent on the back of his mother's horse and/or of hunts in Aman.

Their relationship continues much as before, and though she makes the effort to be more present for Legolas' benefit it's dealer's choice whether she's successful at it. Maybe as a Maia of the hunt she's not good with children and is able to salvage her relationship with her son when he gets old enough to spend all his days hunting too; maybe she's a really good mother despite her frequent absences and the family dynamics just work for everyone. Who knows?

Legolas' mother is only a minor Maia, and so he's not quite as extra as Lúthien. He's noted for being the best hunter of his age - but most assume that's down to genetics, because of his father's legendary skill, and because of a lifetime of practice, because Mirkwood is Mirkwood.

And, honestly, a Mirkwood filled with spiders to hunt is probably all a half-Maia elf could ever want, particularly when their Maia parent is a huntress of Oromë.

The events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings go as in canon, with the exception of Galadriel saying that she cannot give Legolas a better bow than his mother made for him, and so granting him a different gift. This prompts several questions about Legolas' mother, particularly when Aragorn admits that not even Elrond knows her identity.

The hobbits responsible for The Red Book of Westmarch never learn the truth.

But, as I'm an inveterate Legolas/Gimli stan, Legolas admits the truth to Gimli sometime after that relationship forms - maybe Legolas' mother shows up at some point while they're in Ithilien to check up on her son after the war ends and the truth comes out; maybe it comes out when Legolas is trying to reassure Gimli theirs wouldn't be the most unusual marriage in the family - but no one else ever learns the truth.

It's Legolas' Maia heritage that allows Gimli to sail with him to Aman - either his mother requests it as a boon from the Valar for her son, or something about his ancestry allows him to grant others access.

Bonuses include: 1) Everything that might point to Legolas' Maia heritage is written off as elfish weirdness by non-elves, Silvan weirdness by non-Silvan elves, and Sinda weirdness by Silvan elves; 2) Despite all this, Legolas talks about his mother a lot and so by the breaking of the Fellowship everyone has this idea that his mother is the Greatest Hunter Ever To Live; and 3) the question of just who Thranduil is married to being a big source of betting and speculation for elves, and all the elves the Fellowship encounters try to use them to get the inside track.

And that's it. As always, feel free to adopt this plot bunny, just link back to me if you do anything with it.

Other Legolas Headcanons: First Age | Second Age | Third Age | Half-Maia | Half-Elven

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #lotr #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #tolkien #legolas x gimli #legolas #thranduil #legolas headcanon #lotr headcanons #tolkien headcanons

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yourlocalnetizen · 2 years

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Tolkien elves and who they trauma dump on

Finwe - His whole family but mostly Indis.

Ingwe - Doesn’t trauma dump. Manwe can tell when he needs to talk about his feelings though and offers to be his moral support.

Thingol - Melian.

Cirdan - Doesn’t trauma dump but managed just fine.

Miriel - Mandos and Vaire are her go too Valar if she needs to talk about her feelings but she rarely does.

Indis - Tries to avoid trauma dumping but she needs to every once in a while and uncle Ingwe is always there for her.

Feanor - Nerdanel and sometimes Mahtan. He refuses to talk about his feelings with the Valar. Manwe & Namo tried though. Nienna almost succeeded. In Mandos he trauma dumps on Finwe, like he should have a long time ago because no one else can get him open up about his feelings.

Nerdanel - Her dad.

Findis - Avoids trauma dumping but she goes to her mom when she needs too.

Fingolfin - His mom but after he goes to middle earth it’s Irime.

Irime - Fingolfin because he was her best friend from the start. She knew Indis was more reliable but thought her mom had enough to worry about already.

Finarfin - Doesn’t ever trauma dump but he’s always open about his feelings, including the negative ones, with Earwen, as is she with him.

Maedhros - Never had the need to trauma dump when he was in Valinor. In middle earth probably Maglor. I can’t see it being Fingon because the last time he got Fingon involved in his troubles, he turned Fingon into a kinslayer and I bet he felt very guilty about it.

Maglor - Maedhros, a very bad choice given how traumatized his elder bro is but M&M are clearly super codependent.

Celegorm - In Valinor, Orome. In Middle Earth, Huan and Maedhros. After Huan leaves him, no one because he doesn’t get along with Maedhros anymore and no way is he willing to push his feelings on his little brothers. (I think he always tried to be a dependable big bro to his little sibs because he looked up to Maedhros when he was younger and Maedhros was always a dependable big bro to him.)

Caranthir - He doesn’t trauma dump and he doesn’t have to. He does have trauma but he deals with it in healthy ways. Like screaming in his soundproof room.

Curufin - Feanor, back when Feanor was alive. It was not helpful since his dad was the most traumatized elf alive at that point. After Feanor dies, he goes to Mae & Mags. He never actually listens to their suggestions though.

Amrod & Amras - Each other. Who else?

Fingon - Fingolfin back when he was alive.

Turgon - Doesn’t ever talk about his feelings but it worked out for him because Glorfindel always knows what he’s feeling.

Glorfindel - Open about his feelings with everyone he’s close to.

Idril - Tuor.

Maeglin - Thanks to his dad and latter Turgon, he didn’t realize it was okay to talk about your feelings. Also if anyone knew about his feelings, they would be ultra judgmental.

Aredhel - Fingolfin. Later Turgon, who isn’t a great choice but she lives with him so her options are limited.

Luthien - Beren.

Finrod - His parents in Valinor. In middle earth, it’s Beor for a bit. After that, no one because he doesn’t have any more trauma to dump.

Angrod - His bros. Maybe his wife.

Aegnor - Finrod and Angrod.

Galadriel - Finrod, but she quickly grows out of the need of having to trauma dump.

Celeborn - His wife.

Celebrimbor - After he ditched his dad, probably Galadriel and Celeborn. Later Sauron, but that didn’t work out did it?

Gil-Galad - Cirdan. His true dad. (Not by blood since he’s Finwean obviously, but he did raise him.)

Finduilas - Her dad.

Orodreth - Whatever elder family member is emotionally available at the moment. It’s been Finrod, his parents, and Finarfin at some point.

Earendil - Elwing.

Elwing - Earendil.

Elros - Elrond.

Elrond - Elros initially but stopped trauma dumping after his twin died. Fortunately, it’s okay because Glorfindel knows what he’s feeling and knows how to help.

Celebrian - Her mom. Probably uncle Finrod in Valinor.

Thranduil - Doesn’t trauma dump. Oropher’s death probably traumatized him but I don’t think he had the chance to talk about his feelings being a king and all. Somehow he was able to overcome his grief though. (Maybe the birth of Legolas?)

Legolas - Gimli.

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weezlbot · 1 year

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Tl;dr: Tauriel as a descendant of Feanor

The Feanorian troops are routed from Sirion. Finally.

Elwing is gone. Earendil is gone. The little princes are taken, and even if they are not dead, they’re lost. Oropher coordinates clean-ups of the dead bodies. So many unmarked graves.

One of the dead is identified as the wife of Amras, the youngest Feanorian. She lies dead in a ditch, her neck crushed by a horse’s hoof, her dress torn and dirty...

... and a tiny screaming bundle still clutched in her rigor mortised arms.

Oropher takes the infant, frigid, filthy and starving but otherwise unhurt. Against all odds, he finds a wet-nurse for the babe, cleans and warms him, and eventually gets him adopted by a friend of his. The friend names him Athaedil,

Athaedil grows up into a fine young man. Tall and slim, with fiery red hair, freckles and a noble, extroverted disposition. He is never told about his real parents, and is raised Sindar. When he does eventually discover he’s adopted, he is told that his parentage is unknown--that his parents died nameless. Eventually, he moves with Oropher to the Greenwood and remains a friend of the family, Thranduil’s friend especially.

The Last Alliance happens. Oropher dies. Thranduil takes over as King.

Athaedil marries a nice girl, a daughter of a powerful Silvan lord. He gives her the epesse of Fainladh, the White Tree, as she is tall and slim with thick, pure white hair. A few years later, she falls pregnant. Eventually, they have a little girl of their own.

Her name is Tauriel.

When Tauriel is still young, Athaedil and Fainladh are ambushed during a routine patrol. Thranduil hears the commotion and arrives, driving off the giant spiders, but he’s too late. Athaedil is critically injured.

Thranduil orders the healers to focus on him, but Athaedil says it’s too late, and to focus on Fainladh, who is less injured and could still be saved. The healers group onto Fainladh and leave Athaedil with Thranduil.

Thranduil takes Athaedil in his arms, cradling him gently as he struggles for breath. Athaedil manages to creak out a “Take care of Tauriel” before he draws his final breath.

Thranduil closes Athaedil’s eyes and they bury him snug in the roots of a large tree. Fainladh passes soon after from her own wounds, and she is laid by his side.

Thranduil raises Tauriel as his own charge. He tells her she is Silvan, like her mother was. Tells her her father was the son of an old friend, adopted and of unknown heritage. He raises her in what he thinks is the “proper” way--Sindar for official business, Silvan for socializing with commoners and having fun at parties. If you asked Tauriel herself, she’d probably call herself Silvan.

Thranduil’s worst fear is that Tauriel might someday find out who her real grandfather was. The Feanorians hang over Thranduil, specters of childhood fears, and he really, really wants to discourage any connections between his hot-headed, reckless charge and her kinslaying ancestors.

Anyway, that’s why I think Tauriel is Like That. It’s in her blood. Her impulsivity, her hot-headedness, her willingness to solve problems with violence. Her red hair, when that’s such a rare trait. She’s Feanor’s great-granddaughter!

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silvantransthranduiltrash · 15 days

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The first of thranduil’s family to make it to valinor after oropher is Kleoyia.

It happened millenia after the third age. Kleoyia was killed and ended up in mandos. They’re still a bit confused as to how she died.

Anyway, you’d think this is an angsty post, but it’s not.

Kleoyia’s faer is brought to the hall and she walks herself right out the door. She’s good thanks. No way she’s going to willingly put herself under the control of a vala any longer than absolutely necessary.

Ingwe’s called to pick her up bc oropher’s still in the halls harassing convincing the valar to release miriel from the halls.

And ingwe picks her up by himself, and he’s a little worried bc yes, she is his (adopted) sister, but he’s also never met her and he’s afraid that after all these millenia apart thranduil’s forgotten him.

But he need not worry bc, after breaking the ice, the two get on like a house on fire. And Kleoyia’s managed to smuggle in a phone somehow, so now ingwe not only has actual family again, but he’s once more in contact with his ada and older sister and the rest of his (newly met) family.

Oh, happy days!!!

#kleoyia #ingwe was adopted by thranduil #shamelessly pushing my ‘miriel and thranduil are twins agenda’#ingwe #indis #lord of the rings #silmarillion #lotr elves #lotr #not necessarily canon to my au more like an au of my au but still fun #thranduil #4 silvan sibs au #house of edireth

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i-did-not-mean-to · 1 year

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W - Waterfall

Written for @scyllas-revenge...My dearest, have a slice of Victorian Thran :D

Words: 1,7 k

Characters: Thranduil x OC

Warnings: Heartbreak, accident

“Miss Zinnia?” the maid poked her head through the door in a rare moment of almost informal flippancy that would never have been permissible had the Master or the Mistress of the house been in attendance. “I just heard from the butcher’s boy that Master Thranduil is coming back.”

Zinnia nodded, laying her needlework aside primly to dissimulate the fact that her fingers were trembling.

“Thank you, Minnie,” she said with a smile that felt like trying to stretch stone. The girl’s name was Mary and she had grown up in this house, her mother having been the cook since before Zinnia had even been born, and thus, they shared a secret but not necessarily an unusual level of intimacy and complicity.

“I just thought you might want to know,” Minnie grinned. “I am sure the Mistress will hear as well and, well, better be prepared to keep a straight face then.”

“You may go,” Zinnia replied not without a hint of sympathy. “Thranduil and his comings or goings are no longer any of my concern.”

That was, of course, a brazen lie.

Once upon a time, the whole county had expected the young heir to ask Zinnia’s esteemed pater for his blessing to court and eventually marry the fresh-faced debutante. Zinnia herself—in her youthful naïveté—had believed that this would be her life; she had already seen herself as the Mistress of Greenwood the Great.

The war, ravaging the country mercilessly, had put an end to that daydream. Lord Oropher perished and Thranduil, now the master of his estate and the surrounding lands, had wedded an unknown heiress who had valuable resources, a vast fortune, and a very knowledgeable father speaking in her favour.

Zinnia lifted her hand to her lips as if that could stop the mean, undignified thoughts about to burst into her mind.

She had not been jilted, no matter what people said or how she had felt about the whole disaster at that moment; consequently, she had no right to wish any kind of punishment on Thranduil.

He had broken her heart, but never his word.

Nonetheless, his young bride had died in childbirth and—bereaved and beside himself with compounded grief—Thranduil had taken his son away, falsely believing that there was something hostile and nefarious in the air of his hometown.

Now, he apparently was back.

Zinnia patted her curls absent-mindedly; after Thranduil had left, she had not even considered accepting another suitor for a long time, secretly hoping that he’d come back to her.

Later, when the reality of her situation overruled her personal pride and the predilections of her heart, there had been very few eligible bachelors left and none of them was willing to be satisfied with a young lordling’s leavings.

Moreover, by that time, Zinnia had become so shrewd and independent that she hardly appealed to these middle-aged dandies who were looking for an amenable, obedient wife to mind their offspring and embellish their sitting room.

“Zinnia!” The shrill, nervous voice of her mater—a woman of ample proportions and even more impressive charisma—cut through the haze of her recollections. “The merry widower is back.”

“I doubt that he is very merry,” Zinnia muttered before remembering that it was unseemly to be seen moping when the sun was out, and the curtains were pulled back to allow people walking along the northern border of their estate to admire their rich furnishings.

“I expect him to call here before long,” her mother prophesied and let herself melt into one of the ridiculously plush chairs.

Mother was never wrong, Zinnia thought as, the very next afternoon, Minnie announced that Lord Thranduil was in the foyer.

“He apologised very handsomely for coming over unannounced,” she reported in a breathless, flustered whisper, “and he looks ever so dashing. Should I show him into the library?”

“Do,” Zinnia agreed and slipped up the back stairs to her room to freshen up a bit. She had lost the fresh glow of youth, but she was still a handsome woman and thus, she pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to counteract the tell-tale pallor that would have given away her state of nervous excitement.

When she entered the library, she recognised Thranduil immediately, cursing him for having changed so little when time had been so cruel to her.

He still was tall and svelte, standing straight and strong as a birch tree by the window—his hair had gone from pale gold to starlight silver, but otherwise, he looked much the same as the day he had come to inform her that—even though he was most fond of her—he would soon marry another lady.

“Zinnia,” he greeted, his eyes shining with a gleam she could not fully understand—it was deeper and more mysterious than the expressions of joy or mischief she had known so well half a life ago.

Oh, how tired she was growing of hearing her own name.

“Do you still boat?”

She blinked in confusion. “I am much the same as I was when you’ve last seen me,” she said in a calm, dispassionate voice. Thranduil cocked an eyebrow; he knew her too well not to have heard the unsaid accusation that the same could not be said about him.

“I’d love to take you out—for old time’s sake—and speak in private,” he said, “or would I have to duel your Lord husband for that privilege?”

“Do not mock me,” she hissed sharply, taking an impulsive step towards him, ready to strike. “You find me in my parents’ house still and—I have no doubt—the gossip mongers will already have let you know that I have never been married after…”

“Who would tell me that, Zinnia? The manor has only been reopened and none of the staff I’ve brought is from around here. Unlike you, I have neither a mama nor a papa to collect and hoard titbits about my neighbours’ lives for me.”

“Forgive me,” she said, sounding astoundingly unapologetic. “I shall be delighted to go boating with you; I am curious to see how thoroughly you’ve forgotten not only us but also the place you’ve grown up in.”

Lifting his chin defiantly—eyes ablaze with indignation—Thranduil stared her down. “I’d never forget how to manoeuvre a small boat down the river, do not be daft, Zinnia!”

“Can I supply you with a ribbon to secure your hair, I seem to remember that you’ve always been uncommonly mindful of it, no?” Zinnia said with a sweet smile as she sat down in the small boat her family kept for pleasant outings such as this.

“I am delighted to discover that your tongue has only grown sharper over the years,” Thranduil commented dryly. “You must have whetted it relentlessly. Remind me to send flowers to your dear mama as a token of my admiration for her forbearance.”

Zinnia merely sniggered in a most unbecoming manner and watched the man she had once hoped to marry struggle to get their vessel out of the reeds and into the slow current of the river.

Just like her tongue, his arms seemed to have lost none of their vigour with growing age for he gripped the wooden paddles confidently and—with a few powerful strokes—steered them into the middle of the waterway.

Unfolding her light travelling fan, Zinnia tried to obscure the fact that the sight of his bulging muscles, moving tantalisingly under the informal linen shirt he was wearing drove heat and colour into her pallid cheeks.

“Why are you fanning yourself? You’re not the one rowing!” Thranduil remarked pointedly, turning his face in her direction and tilting it up in a most alluring way.

“I shall not fan you,” she declared haughtily and decided to observe the reed banks drifting by leisurely instead to avoid being caught and called out by this keen-eyed, sharp-witted man who knew her much too well to restrict himself to polite observations about the weather and their common acquaintances.

“Suit yourself,” Thranduil groaned, “if I die—overcome by the heat and the blazing sun—you shall drift down the waterfall.”

“I can swim,” Zinnia laughed mockingly, “and, unlike some people I shall not name, I do not object to submerging my hair. The ‘waterfall’ is minuscule and I doubt that any harm would come either to me or to the boat. I would let your corpse sink to the bottom though and give a tearful account of how I’ve only barely managed to save myself.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Thranduil guffawed, wiping the back of his hand across his sweat-sheened brow and grinning. For a moment, he looked so much like the man she had lost two decades ago that her heart gave a painful lurch within her seizing chest. “I deserve that, faithless villain that I am.”

They stared at each other in utter silence for a long time, each trying to find the courage and the appropriate words to bring up the misery and confusion they had wrought upon one another.

“You were so young, Zinnia,” he started, “and I didn’t want to do that to you. Looking back now, I realise that I should not have underestimated you so, but…”

A sudden acceleration of the boat interrupted him mid-sentence.

“Ah, we’ll get to see if I was right,” Zinnia said with a sardonic shrug. “I admit that I was not paying any heed to where we were going.”

“I was focused on you,” Thranduil admitted, shame-faced and visibly alarmed.

“Ditto,” Zinnia replied with a soft smile. “As I said, I believe we’ll be fine.”

“Forgive me for the impropriety, my lady,” Thranduil exclaimed as the boat started to rock and sway.

Before Zinnia could question him on that statement, his arms were around her and he held her pressed against his broad, muscled chest tightly.

“Please don’t leave my corpse,” he whispered into her hair. “I’d like to be buried beside my parents.”

And then, they fell.

It was a matter of a few heartbeats at best; the boat landed with a loud splash and a bone-shattering impact before righting itself and drifting on calmly.

“See? Nothing happened,” Zinnia hooted. When she looked up though, she found that—even though she was mostly dry—Thranduil had shielded her from the watery onslaught their landing had conjured up; he was positively drenched.

“Oh, you poor dear,” she exclaimed instinctively, trying to pat him dry with the hem of her skirt without much avail. “Let’s disembark here and rest for a bit. You can dry in the sun, and I’ll check whether any of the sandwiches have survived the adventure. How about that?”

@fellowshipofthefics here's another one for the queue :)

Ah, this one was so fun to write...

-> Masterlist

Lots of love from me

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #Thranduil x OC #tolkien writing #jrrt #April Alphabet #fotfics april alphabet #fellowshipofthefics #Hobbit #Thranduil #LOTR #W #Waterfall

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windrelyn · 1 year

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Hi. I have been following you for a long time, and really admire your enthusiasm for the world of Middle Earth. I am a fan of High King Gil Galad and the House of Oropher. And what a coincidence when I found out that you ship Gil Galad and Oropher, I thought "why didn't I think of this sooner?". Can you tell me more about your headcanon about this couple? Thank you very much. Wish you all happiness and health.

Hi, thanks so much for your support!

I have some headcanons for Onion (this is my ship name for Ereinion/Oropher) They are different a bit from other fans’. I don’t like love-hate relationship or tsundere Oropher. To me, their relationship is a slow-build, from enemy to love, and long-distance love.

I like an idea that Ereinion first met Oropher when they were quite young. Ereinion chose to take a break beneath the large oak tree in the woodland while escorting Círdan to Doriath. While he sat beneath the foliage, he suddenly noticed a silver-haired Sindar sleeping in the branch. He looked at him in silence and thought that Elf was so beautiful – like a lily of the valley among the wild flowers. But moments later Oropher woke up and said that he did not want any Noldor wandering in his realm. They had some quarrels and fights during the time Ereinion stayed at Doriath.

They met again after the second Kinslaying. Oropher lost everything he love: his home, his wife, his king, his friends. He arrived to Lindon with his little son, Thranduil. Círdan and Erenion greeted him, cared for him and soothed him from the nightmare of the past. He recognized he could not hate Ereinion. It’s a period when their love grew up. Ereinion was an only Elf who could comfort Oropher, and Oropher was an only Elf who could make Ereinion smile.

However, they chose duty instead of love. Oropher still want to build a true home for his peoples. He decided to left Lindon, traveled to Greenwood and established a woodland realm. Despite Ereinion knew he could not permanently keep that wild lily away from its woodland, he was unhappy. Though they were apart, their heart remained united; a long-distance love began henceforth. They kept correspondence and attempted to visit each other’s kingdom more frequently (Elrond and Thranduil’s love started from a visit between Elves of Lindon and Greenwood).

I really disappointed with Oropher’s fate in the canon, so I came up with a headcanon that Oropher fought valiantly to defend his love in the Battle of Dargolad and died in Ereinion’s arms with a last kiss from him.

(I'm not good at expressing, so please forgive me if you found a mistakes. Hope my headcanons would be fine with you!)

#my asks #gil galad x oropher #oropher #ereinion #gil galad #elves #lotr #silmarillion #headcanons #tolkien #middle earth

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tathrin · 1 year

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I’ve been working on that LotR Zombie AU that I talked about a while ago, and it’s been fun! I’m actually several chapters in, and still enjoying it mightily, so I’ll hopefully start actually posting it soon but.

I keep going back-and-forth on whether or not I want to include this chapter or not. It’s pure exposition scene-setting, and while I enjoyed writing it and it was very helpful initially when I was figuring out the background for it all, it’s mostly exposition that gets covered better in other places now.

And I just can’t find a good place to insert it. I keep moving it around in between other chapters, and every time I’m like “yes, there, it fits there”...until I change my mind and move it again. So I think it might be time to just admit that it doesn’t fit anywhere, and cut it completely.

But before I do that, I figure I might as well share it with all of you:

It started, at least in Mirkwood, when the king came home. He was dead, of course; had been dead for three thousand years at that point. The world had changed so much in the years since his death that he would have barely recognized it—had he been conscious enough to see the lands he walked through. But he wasn't; he was dead.

He was Dead, and the Dead followed after.

Oropher, and Gilthawen, and Rhosslas, and Teithion, and Hebinastor, and all the others who had died with their king in the land of Mordor where the shadows lie. It started when the dead came home.

Their bodies should have rotted away to nothing long ago, nothing but the ghosts of dead faces staring up unseeing forever out of the fetid waters. They should have; but the Necromancer who had ruled that dark land, who had clawed his way out of his own grave more than once before, had left a mark on Mordor too deep to be erased even by his own destruction.

He had been a craftsman, after all, that maia once called Sauron and once called Mairon and even, once, named Annatar. He had been a craftsman, and his favorite medium was souls.

Perhaps someone should have worried more about those bodies in the Dead Marshes outside the land of Mordor. Perhaps someone should have worried sooner about the way their faces did not fade from the foul waters, even when their flesh was centuries gone.

Perhaps someone should have remembered that “Necromancer” had been one of the names by which he had been known, too. Perhaps someone should have remembered why.

The bodies in the Dead Marshes had drained to dust and rot centuries ago, leaving nothing but dead echoes rippling in the water. But that water lay outside a Necromancer's lair, in lands that had been long poisoned by his arts. Dead and gone they were, those Men and Dwarves and Elves and Orcs who had died fighting there so long ago; dead and gone and rotting…

But even dead, the echoes of their souls endured. Trapped, corrupted, their spirits rotting from within, they endured. And, eventually, they Rose.

The Risen Dead were no army to be commanded by the Wraiths who held dominion over the ruin of Mordor now. Their unliving corpses were driven only by hunger for life, for flesh.

Many of the Dead eventually followed the smell and sound and flickering lights of a great city to Minas Tirith, and there they fell on the white walls of Gondor's great capital first in a trickle and then as a tide. By the time the city knew to shut its gates, death was already inside the walls. An army of the dead stands there now—frothing and snapping, moaning with mindless hunger—outside the walls they cannot breach, while the few who slipped inside before the gates were shut lurch and spread through the winding tiers of the city so that Minas Tirith rots from within.

Others scattered, wandering off in whatever direction their lifeless eyes turned to in pursuit of any whisper of life that caught their senseless attention enough to draw them onwards. The Dead are everywhere now, found far beyond the reach of the rotting legs of those first corpses, for their infection spreads even faster than they do: it passes silently through air and water, undetected, not strong enough to kill…but inescapable, too. Now those dead who die in Middle-earth by other means Rise as well, and they spread the infection ever onwards in a growing wave of corpses and moans.

But Oropher…Oropher came back to Mirkwood.

Some said it was Dol Guldur looming like a lodestone, drawing the Dead. Others said it was because even in death, the forest still called her old king home.

Whatever the reason, he came, and Death followed with him.

Oropher came home, and the Rising began.

#or maybe i can post it as a sort of prologue chapter?#idk the first chapter is already sort of a prologue in a way so it feels redundant to do this one too #but then again this IS lord of the rings #story with a thousand endings #why not start with multiple prologues? lol #idk folks anyone have any opinions?#is this worth keeping on its own merits or should i just scrap it and move on?#kill your darlings isn't that what they say?#lotr fanfiction #lotr zombie au #zombie lotr au #my writing #my stuff #lotr

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ceescedasticity · 2 years

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let's invent some Avari subgroups

There are minimum four distinguishable (though often mixing) groups who all call themselves Wood-elves.

Western Wood-elves were originally a mix of (mostly Nelyar) Avari and Nandor (Teleri who left the Journey at the Anduin), but by the start of the First Age they weren't keeping track of that anymore. The Laiquendi of Ossiriand, most of the pre-Amdír residents of Lórinand, and many of the pre-Oropher residents of Greenwood were Western Wood-elves (not that they specified that).

Northern Wood-elves were originally a mix of mostly Nelyar Avari with more Tatyar than the Western Wood-elves, but by the start of the First Age they aren't keeping track of that. Over half of pre-Oropher residents of Greenwood were Northern Wood-elves. Before the rising of the Sun they also went a good ways east of Greenwood.

Some of the Northern Wood-elves split off and spread across northern Eriador and even into Beleriand, but they largely combined with the Exiled Noldor and/or Northern Sindar (in Beleriand) or Lindon/Eregion (Second Age). In hindsight, Northwestern Wood-elves?

"Eastern Wood-elves" is a heterogeneous category applied to communities that lived in forests either east of the Vales of Anduin and south of Greenwood, or east of the Sea of Rhûn at any latitude. They had multiple different community networks/languages/cultures, and came from Nelyar or Tatyar or both, variously. They withstood raids by orcs and various dark creatures and sometimes each other, but in the end they couldn't withstand humans or Sauron's human empires: most of them had died or merged with other groups by the mid-Second Age, and the remainder just kept dwindling. (In particular, elves in southeastern Rhovanion were completely eliminated no later than S.A. 1500.) (A lot of Angband's thralls were Eastern Wood-elves or descended from them.)

Moving on from Wood-elves—

The Pelnûru started out a mix of Nelyar and Tatyar who went southeast from Cuiviénen and settled on the eastern coast. At the time this coast was on the Encircling Sea and the only thing on the other side was the edge of the world, and the Pelnûru named themselves for living near the boundary. They have farms and build cities and consider themselves highly civilized. They maintained the distinction between Nelyar and Tatyar for a while, but it disappeared completely after the catastrophe of the changing of the world. They never fully recovered from the catastrophe, but even in the late Third Age they're still a healthy community.

The Vaïyim live around the Sea of Rhûn. They were originally mostly Nelyar but the addition of various other groups has made them a real mix. By the late Second Age the term is also considered to include some Wood-elves living close by (i.e. some of the fled Eastern Wood-elves). The Vaïyim have shore-towns and do a lot of boating on the inland sea. They have peaceful if occasionally tense relations with human communities also around the Sea. (There may or may not be a Maia of some description dwelling in the Sea helping out a bit.) They're much reduced by the late Third Age but still hanging on.

The Nos-Bavern were nomadic herders. Like the Eastern Wood-elves they couldn't withstand humans and/or Sauron's human empires, and were completely gone by S.A. 1000. (Survivors merged with the Vaïyim, Pelnûru, or Wood-elves.)

The Nos-Gond' were not so much nomadic as perpetually dissatisfied. They would settle somewhere a while, build stone towers and walls, then decide they weren't happy with it and go elsewhere. They were very widely distributed but not good at collectively making friends. They were mostly of Tatyar descent and were seethingly envious of the Noldor when they ran into them. They were easy targets for Angband's thrall-raids, tended to antagonize human neighbors, and many individuals jumped at the chance to go elsewhere; they were completely gone by S.A. 500.

#reckless application of spackle #a tolkien tag

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