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There is a horn. It is nothing special, made from the tusk of some beast that Aredhel barely even recalls felling.

There had been many such beasts on The Ice after all.

The horn had found its way into her luggage and over so many restless nights watching over little Idril she had made it.

It does not compare to those that The Hunt had used in Aman, bound as it is with scant strips of leather and metalwork repurposed from a necklace that she could not wear on The Ice.

But it is hers. And it is precious, in a strange way.

She does not take it when she leaves her brother’s city. It remains, untouched, in her rooms.

It watches as she slowly fades from a poison bestowed by her husband.

The horn is given to her son, yet he has no use for it. A love of hunting and the great outdoors was not anything she passed on to her only child.

It is gifted to another, to a child borne of his cousin, a more precious gift than perhaps his cousin realises.

(One of the few pieces he has of his mother. A wish and a warning and an apology all at once.)

Somehow it survives the Fall. Somehow it ends up in Sirion.

It does not burn in the destruction. Nor is it taken by the Sons of Feanor as they take their hostages.

It lies, abandoned on the floor, until the King comes (too late) to the aid of the city.

There are too few survivors, but they can ill afford to leave any supplies behind. And besides, Gil-Galad can recall his cousin placing a strange solemn honour upon the hunting horn.

It sits, unused, until the Sons of Earendil are returned to their king, whereupon it, aged and yet bearing a presence is returned to them.

There is little argument over which of them gets that piece of their father when it is time for them to separate. The elder twin takes it, as he took their foster father’s sword. The younger is content with a silver harp and the book of their mother’s herblore.

Elros takes it with him. A symbol of his House, and honour for his heir to bear.

Down it goes, down down down the generations until there is little but a drop of Numenorian blood left in its bearer.

It crosses oceans and continents and Ages of the World, survives battles and sieges and the falls of Great Cities and Great Kings until all that is left is a Steward upon his throne sending a son to find answers for a dream.

Finally, on the shores of a river, overlooked by statues of the Kings of Old, the horn is blown for the last time.

It is blown to summon aid, to draw attention, to allow those it’s bearer would protect the chance to escape.

It takes three arrows to take down the horn’s bearer, and the Falls of Rauros to finally grant the horn rest.

The Horn of Aredhel Maeglin Earendil Elros Numenor Gondor is no more.

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The portrait of the prince, taken and edited by @thistlesandstories (as well as the other pictures of me)

I had a great time at the local convention. I’m happy to announce that me and @thistlesandstories won the cosplay contest as the absolute winner, we earned awesome rewards and most importantly we really had fun and I am very grateful to @the-symphony-of-lydia-brown for helping us coming up with the presentation ideas an turned it into an entertaining spectacle.

This is our team. We are proud of ourselves

Both of the costumes are original designs made by us. We used multiple artworks and historical clothing references. I wrote more on it here

Some more pictures:

Bonus: comparison to the portrait by spectacular artist @jennydolfen

#hello these are STUNNING #fellow cosplayers RISE #just ahhhhhhhh #the details #the construction #the embroidery

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aragorn my beloved, the original fictional man to have a crush on

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(affectionate <3)

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[x]

from a woodland meet with @ sal.cosplay.photos in Stanmer Woods near Brighton. Handmade.

#hihihihihihihihi #so from the main #here #he #look I just love his fit

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mussel armor tol eressëan

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Okay, I don't know what to say here...except that I adore her 💔

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Mucha inspired Eowyn illustration

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Ways to poetically say "forever" if you're an elf

"Until the stars go out": classic from Cuiviénen, never lost its charm.

"When Laurelin frosts": rapid decrease in popularity for obvious reasons.

"While Telperion has leaves": rapid decrease in popularity for obvious reasons.

"Unto world's end": used once and very rarely thereafter.

"When the sun freezes": nothing quite like a reprise. Rapid decrease in popularity for obvious reasons.

"Until day comes again": popular in Angband, with varying sincerity.

"While Gil-Estel shines": If a fuckhuge winged dragon couldn't stop it from shining, what could?

"Until the last ship sets sail into the West": 95%+ of uses were by the guy building the dang ship.

"When Fëanor apologizes": What exactly he is apologizing for is sometimes included, but largely deemed unnecessary.

"When the world is mended": steadily increasing in popularity and decreasing in sincerity.

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“dropping vain tears in the thankless sea.”

Excerpts from the Doom of Mandos + Feanor’s speech to the Noldor unknowingly foretelling his last living son’s eventual fate. - The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien.

All paintings by Lithuanian painter, composer and writer Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis (1875 - 1911) [my edits].

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I am fascinated by Erestor origin stories. indulge me and spread around my extremely unscientific poll. I am aware that there are roughly 65 "Feanorian Somehow" variants (personally, I'm a Celegorm's Cruel Servant truther), but tumblr only lets you have so many poll options, so I singled out a couple of what seemed like the most common and lumped the rest together.

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Turgon ! @tolkienofcolourweek

Afficher davantage

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feb 26th … happy anniversary to the creation of this iconic trio and also bestiehood

heres a little doodle in their honour

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The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King 2003, dir. Peter Jackson

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Some Bilbo art! This was honestly just an excuse to dress him up in some hobbit-esque and dwarven outfits :))

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AITA for adopting two kids?

There’s context here that might actually make it bad.

So several centuries ago, my father (326M at the time) and brothers (307M, 260M, 236M, 219M, 197M, and 197M at the time) and I (281M at the time) all swore an unbreakable oath to reclaim the three jewels that were my father’s greatest creations, and kill anyone who kept them from us. At the time we were really only thinking of the person who originally stole them from us, who we’ll call MG (older than the world, M). He’s done a lot of other awful stuff, like murdering my grandfather and destroying the source of light that was before the sun and moon, and he absolutely deserves to be killed. But since we swore this oath, other people have gotten hold of one of the jewels, and things have gotten messy.

In pursuit of this one jewel, my brothers and I sacked a kingdom. The young princess of that kingdom (3F at the time) got away with the jewel, and she and her people founded a new settlement along with some other refugees. We really didn’t want to attack them again, but, well, I told you about our oath. We held out for a while, but eventually we wrote to the princess (then 34F) and asked her to give the jewel back to us. She wrote back saying that she would have to wait for her husband to return home so she could discuss it with him, but it was pretty clear she was just trying to stall us, and at this point the oath was not happy with us for delaying so long. We attacked her settlement and destroyed it, and in the end we didn’t even manage to reclaim the jewel.

Here’s where the adoption thing comes in. After the attack, my only surviving brother and I found the princess’s twin sons (both 6M) hiding in the destroyed settlement. It wouldn’t have been safe for them to stay there, so I took them with us. We live life on the run from MG, the person who originally stole the jewels - he wants to take over the world, and he’s pretty much already managed to take over the continent we live on - so there‘s really no safe way to get the boys to the only still-existing free settlement where some of their people live. Even if they made it safely there, whoever escorted them might be killed by the people of that settlement, who understandably despise us. I have a responsibility to keep my people safe as well as my boys.

So the twins have stayed with us, and I’ve become their foster father. But I still can’t help wondering whether getting them to a more suitable guardian is worth the risk after all - whether it’s acceptable for me to be raising them, even under these circumstances. I destroyed their home and killed their friends and neighbors! I tried to kill their mother! (She turned into a bird and flew away - I’m still not sure how she did that - which is why leaving the boys in her care wasn’t an option despite her survival.) I know I’m TA for the pillaging and mass murder, but how about for not sending the boys away? I’ll admit I really, really don’t want to send them away - they’re the only bright spot in my life and I love them like my own sons - but is that wrong of me? AITA?

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Ah yes. Me. My elf girlfriend. And her 6ft tall magical dog.