#…and a new relationship with fingon is going to make him better (and make fingon slightly worse; but in a cool way)

[tanoraqui]

I love post-Thangorodrim whump & hurt/comfort as much as, maybe more than the next girl, but sometimes I DO want to physically shake many fanfiction writers—especially modern au writers, for some reason—and remind them that the CANONICAL effect of Maedhros’s captivity and torment upon his psyche was,

…the orcs fled before his face, for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead. Thus the great fortress upon the Hill of Himring could not be taken…

Maedhros isn’t anxious and traumatized, he is FULL OF RESPLENDENT AND VERY EFFECTIVELY VIOLENT WRATH and traumatized

#maedhros #the silmarillion #you: modern au maedhros was in an abusive relationship with melkor or/and sauron and now he’s twitchy and sad #but don’t worry bc a new relationship with fingon is going to make it better! #me: modern au maedhros was in an abusive relationship with melkor or/and sauron and now he’s twitchy and FULL OF WRATH #and probably a cop or prosecuting attorney or/and VIOLENT NIGHTTIME VIGILANTE #…and a new relationship with fingon is going to make him better (and make fingon slightly worse; but in a cool way) #…I feel like I should clarify that I actively enjoy multiple fics like the ones I’m obviously vagueblogging about #I can dispute an imo faulty premise and still appreciate good writing and a compelling character arc #or yknow. good whump and h/c

[tar-maitime]

roots of my tree

Rating: T Characters: Fingon | Findekano, Maedhros | Maitimo Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon, fem!Maedhros/Fingon Additional: Formenos era, Romance, Elopement WC: 3k

Maitimë ducks into the treeline, finally out of the sight of anyone at Formenos, and breathes a sigh of relief when she sees Findekáno there waiting for her.

His face splits into a smile like sunshine when he sees her. “Russë, you made it! I was starting to worry.”

She darts forward to hug him tightly. “Of course I made it; it’s been far too long since I’ve seen you. I was starting to go made up here without you.”

He hugs her back, pressing his face into her shoulder, and then pulls back just enough to kiss her. She’s missed that, too.

“Tell me about Tirion,” she says eventually, when they’ve pulled away long enough to curl up together at the base of a tree. His head leans on her shoulder, and she rests her cheek on his hair. “What’s been going on, since the last you told me?”

“Not a lot, lately,” Findekáno admits. “Politically, things have mostly gone back to normal, now that it’s been a while since the...incident and everyone’s adjusted to having a new king. Everyone else, at least; I’m still not used to it.”

Maitimë hums in response. One heated argument in the immediate aftermath notwithstanding, she and Findekáno have made their peace on this front. It helps that, though she would never say so, she suspects that Nolofinwë might, just possibly, be the better king, and that her father wants the day-to-day governance duties of the crown less than he wants what it represents, not the least of which is his own father’s highest love that everyone else already knows he has.

“People are still worried about Melkor,” Findekáno continues, “but they’re trying to worry very quietly. Nobody wants to believe something could actually go truly wrong.”

Maitimë is silent for a moment, and then, “Atar has been talking more lately about leaving here and crossing back to Endórë.”

That gets Findekáno’s attention, making him sit up sharply. “He wouldn’t really, though,” he says, not with much conviction.

“I think he would,” Maitimë says, letting her unhappiness with this state of affairs show like she can’t in Formenos. 

“Now, though?” Findekáno presses. “When no one knows where Melkor is? It would be more dangerous than ever.”

Maitimë signs. “Atar...does not trust the Valar to keep us safe here,” she says quietly. Then, “I wouldn’t truly mind the danger, and I think the rest might even be an interesting challenge. But...”

“What?”

“If Atar takes us across the Sea, you and I could be separated, if you weren’t able to find a way to come along somehow,” Maitimë says, not looking at him. “If we left suddenly enough, there might not even be the chance to say goodbye.”

Findekáno sucks in a breath as he considers this. “But you’ve got some kind of plan for if that happens, right? Or you will soon?” he asks.

“I...not yet.” Maitimë grimaces. “I’ve been thinking about it, but everything I think of has too many things that could go wrong.”

Findekáno hesitates. “Russë...don’t take this the wrong way...but could you just not go with them if it came to it?”

Maitimë bites her lip hard. “Maybe. It would be possible. But then I would never see any of them again, Finno.” As much as she may have wished to have space from her brothers in the past, the thought of being sundered from them forever, especially Káno, cuts at her. She would do it if it were the only way to not lose Findekáno, but it would be hard and terrible.

Because he knows her, he knows this, and doesn’t press. They’ve already talked about the other side of the coin, him leaving his family. He maintains that his father would take the family across the Sea with the right motivation, such as the need to follow his eldest son. Maitimë, on the other hand, knows there is nothing at all that would keep her father in Aman if he were to decide to leave.

“There is one other thing we could do,” Findekáno says suddenly, with the tone and expression Maitimë recognizes to mean that he’s just had some mad and daring idea. “We could get married.”

Maitimë nearly chokes on air, even as a swell of deep wanting sweeps through her.She has dreamed of such a thing for years, and to hear it mentioned so casually and as such an immediate thing...! But she still feels compelled to point out, “We might not have time. With the betrothal and the rings and organizing everything - and that’s assuming they’d let us --”

“Russë,” Findekáno says, cutting her off gently with a hand cupping her jaw. “We don’t need any of that to get married. Under any other circumstances, I would love to, because you deserve it all, but like you said, we probably don’t have time. And if we elope...our fëar will be linked, Russë. You can let me know if you’re about to leave suddenly and I’ll come.”

That makes Maitimë pause. It’s a good point. Ordinary ósanwë only has so much range, even for the most powerful, and they already know it won’t stretch from Tirion to Formenos. But a marriage bond...that would do it. Even so, “I don’t want to marry you just for a practical reason,” she says slowly. “That’s not fair to either of us.”

“It’s not,” Findekáno agrees. “But neither is any of this. Believe me, Russë, I want to do every tradition, every ceremony, to show all of Eldalië what you mean to me. But more than that, I want ot not wake up one morning and find you’ve gone across the Sea without me.”

“I don’t want that either,” Maitimë assures. A moment later, “Would we keep it secret? Would we even be able to, with the bond showing in our eyes?” Even as she speaks, she realizes she’s talking as if they’ve settled on the actual idea of eloping, and now only need to work out the details.

This is exactly how she and Findekáno used to get into trouble as children in Tirion: he would have a mad idea, she would inevitably start planning out how they would actually do it, and they would take turns sweet-talking themselves out of the ire of the adults.

“I can get away with not making prolonged eye contact for a little while, at least, before anyone notices,” Findekáno says thoughtfully. “And I’ll try to make excuses to get out of the city altogether when I can - I already have been, to see you. It can’t be that long before your father makes his move, if he’s going to.”

Maitimë nods. “I think I can make it work. The ones most likely to find out are my brothers, and I can probably make them keep quiet if I have to.” Except for Curufinwë, but he doesn’t meet her eyes much anyway. “And if it does come out...”

“Then we can start making the case for you to bring me along to Endórë,” Findekáno finishes. “It works out either way.”

Maitimë takes a deep breath. “I suppose that just leaves where and when.”

Findekáno looks up thoughtfully. ���How easy to you suppose it would be to sneak into your bedroom window between the Mingling and Telperion waxing?”

Maitimë considers the house, and considers the feats she’s seen Findekáno pull off. “It would be tricky,” she says eventually, “but I think you could do it. The stonework and vines on that part of the house are climbable enough. I got back in that way once, when I’d stayed away too late with you, and you’re a better climber than I am.”

Findekáno nods. “Then maybe tonight?” he says. “Before I have to go back to Tirion. I can sneak in and...”

“And,” Maitimë agrees. Her mind is already running through weddings she’s attended, sorting out which parts are necessary, which parts are extra but can be done in some fashion quietly in her room, just the two of them, and which parts they’ll have to dispense with. She shifts to kiss Findekáno lightly. “In that case, I’d better head back now. The less suspicion I draw now, the more we’ll be able to get away with later.”

Findekáno kisses her back and then lets her go, his smile blinding. “I’ll see you then, Russë,” he promises, and then she has to tear herself away and hurry back to Formenos.

She needs to get ready.

- - -

Findekáno hauls himself up the last few feet, grabs the windowsill, and scrambles up and into Russandol’s room. His breath catches.

The room itself isn’t that different from what he saw of Russandol’s room in Tirion: neat, organized, decorated with red and gold hangings and carefully drawn maps. But Russandol is standing in the middle of it, waiting for him in the glow of a few lightstones, her hair unbraided and falling to her waist, seeming to glow faintly herself in white robes. Findekáno, who has spent the day traveling and then lurking in the woods, feels rather underprepared by contrast, not to mention a mess.

“Russë,” he breathes. Then, brushing ineffectually at his clothes. “I’m not...can I...there’s probably no way for me to sneak around and bathe without getting caught--”

“I don’t mind,” she says, then at a look from him, “I can fetch a few things. If you want.”

Five minutes with a basin of water and some soap and a rag behind Russandol’s changing screen isn’t ideal and doesn’t feel like nearly enough, but it helps somewhat, and gives him a chance to collect himself. He’s going to marry Russandol. Tonight. Right now. It’s rushed and furtive and not what they ought to have, but maybe when things are calmer they can do a full ceremony for everyone else. For now, they’ll work with what they have.

He brushes off his robes one more time, runs a hand over his braids, and emerges from behind the screen. “So how are we doing this?” he asks. “I know you have a plan.”

Turukáno likes to tell him smugly sometimes that someday he’ll do something reckless and foolish and Russandol won’t be there with her strategies and plans to back him up. But that day isn’t today, from the way she squares her shoulders.

“The only things we need for an official marriage are for us to both make a vow in the name of the One, and...join our bodies.” She glances away from him at the last part, color rising along her cheekbones. “Obviously our parents aren’t involved, so we might want to do the invoking of Manwë and Varda ourselves, just in case. And about rings...”

“I’m going to give you a ring,” Findekáno declares. In between rounds of pacing in the woods, he’d worked out exactly which of the rings he was wearing would do, and blessed whoever had first made it fashionable among the Noldor to wear so very much jewelry at all times. He pulls at the gold ring engraved with a pattern of maple leaves on his little finger. “You don’t have to if you’d rather not...”

Russandol fumbles with something on her desk. “No, I mean, I picked one to give to you.” She holds out her hand, revealing a gold ring etched with stars - surprisingly, not all eight-pointed. “It’s yours if you want it.”

“How could I not,” Findekáno says fervently, and takes the ring from her so he can press his own into her palm. “I can get you a better one than that later if you want, one that’s made for you...”

“This is perfect,” Russandol insists. She slides the ring onto the fourth finger of her right hand, where it fits exactly. Findekáno hastens to do the same with his new one. Then he takes a deep breath and steps forward to take Russandol’s hands in his.

“You’d better start,” he says, his mouth dry. “You’re older; that’s how it works, right?”

Russandol nods and clears her throat. “I, Nelyafinwë Maitimë Fëanáriel, called Russandol,” she says quietly, “do hereby pledge myself body and soul to Findekáno Astaldo Nolofinwion. This swear I: love I will give him all our days, faith unto world’s end. My word hear thou, Eru Ilúvatar! On the holy mountain hear in witness and my vow remember, Manwë and Varda!”

Findekáno’s pulse is pounding in his ears. He takes a second to make sure he can breathe, and then begins. “I, Findekáno Astaldo Nolofinwion, do hereby pledge myself body and soul to Nelyafinwë Maitimë Fëanáriel, my Russandol. This swear I: love I will give her all our days, faith unto world’s end. My word hear thou, Eru Ilúvatar! On the holy mountain hear in witness and my vow remember, Manwë and Varda!”

He swears he can feel Russandol’s spirit blaze out from her, and she looks at him as though he’s shining like the Trees. 

She moves, or he does, and then they’re kissing, slowly at first and then with greater fervor and fierceness. He’s felt Russë’s spirit close to the surface before in moments like this, but now he swears he can feel her like a fire in the back of his mind, nearer than ever.

He wants more, wants to not know where either of them begins or ends. In the morning, he has to go back to Tirion, without her, and be separated for who knows how long. But it’s not morning yet, and they can make the most of the time they have now.

Maybe it’s a growing sense of Russandol’s thoughts, or maybe it’s just her hands starting to run up under his shirt, but he knows she is thinking the same way.

- - -

Maitimë wakes up warm, with the feeling of starlight in the back of her mind. 

She shifts, and discovers that the warmth is from a body curled against hers. Her eyes fly open, revealing Findekáno beside and partially under her - she’d ended up laying her head on his chest. His heartbeat thuds steadily in her ear, pulsing slowly in time with the starlight in her mind.

Memory comes flooding in, along with her body reminding her of some particular details. She comes awake more fully, wonder and joy expanding in her chest. Findekáno is married to her. They’re married. No one can ever take them away from each other now.

He shifts, and then blinks awake, and she can both see and feel the moment of confusion as to where he is before he remembers fully and the starlight in her mind flares jubilantly.

Russë my Russë my wife, she hears him think, and it’s too much; she has to kiss the smile off his lips.

He kisses back warmly, and when they break apart his fingers keep running through her hair.

“Good morning,” he says with a grin.

The best morning, Maitimë thinks, and knows when he’s picked up on the thought by the way he lights up.

Best of all mornings so far, he thinks back. Then, aloud, “How much time do we have? I want to braid your hair.”

Maitimë nestles against him, turning her head to give him slightly better, if crooked, access. “Mm. Braid away.”

“I want to braid it,” Findekáno continues, “and then make a mess of it, even more than last night, until it all comes loose again, until my braids start to come undone and you have to help me redo them, and then I’ll do your hair again, something beautiful, something you couldn’t have possibly done yourself, to make everyone wonder.”

Maitimë shifts to peer up at him. “That sounds like it could take all morning. Longer.”

“That was the idea--”

A rapid knocking at the door cuts him off. “Nelyë? Are you up?” Makalaurë calls out. “Breakfast is going to be soon. Is everything all right?”

Maitimë freezes, simultaneously startled and intensely grateful that at least Makalaurë has the decency to not just barge into her room. “I just overslept, Káno,” she calls back. “I’ll be down in a moment. No need to worry.”

She hears his footsteps retreat, and huffs out a sign, letting her head fall back against the pillow. “I suppose that means our time is up,” she mutters. 

Findekáno hums reluctant agreement. “I would hide up here to wait for you, but...”

“But you need to get back to Tirion,” Maitimë says. Beside her, Findekáno sits up, stroking a hand back and forth over her shoulder. She feels the metallic smoothness of the ring against her skin.

“I’ll sneak back as soon as I can,” he promises. “And we have the bond now; we can’t truly be separated. It’ll be all right, Russë.”

She nods glumly, and watches as he gets up and starts hunting for his clothes. A few moments later, she makes herself get up and start getting ready for the day as well.

Someday, she thinks, they’ll be able to do this at the beginning of a day they get to actually spend together, out in the open.

Findekáno’s braids are still intact, but once Maitimë has brushed out her hair he quickly plaits half of it into a crown. When it’s done, she turns into his arms and they hold each other silently for a moment. 

Then, reluctantly, they pull away, with one more quick kiss between them, and he backs towards the windowsill. It’s already a while past the Mingling; she only hopes he can make it out without being spotted.

“Goodbye, Finno,” she murmurs.

“Not goodbye really,” he counters, tapping his temple. “Just - I’ll see you before long, Russë.”

“See you,” Maitimë echoes, and then he’s over the edge of the windowsill and gone.

She waits for a moment or two, missing him already. Then she straightens her back and turns to head downstairs, starlight glowing comfortingly in the back of her mind.

#silmarillion #maedhros #fingon #female maedhros #russingon #roots of my tree #my stories #something soft this time

[lady-byleth]

As we all know, I am a bit of an obsessive nerd. Not quite Silmaril hunting levels of obsessive but getting there

Today I shall use this power to draw up a few fun parallels between the most famous love story in Arda and Beren and Luthien (lol, I couldn't stop myself).

This is not going to be in chronological order because the parallels of the two stories don't happen at the same points and it might be a bit jumbled because I'm wicked sick with covid so bear with me

Let's start with the setup for both.

Broken down to its essentials, Beren and Maedhros are sent to retrieve a/the Silmaril/s from Melkor by a great elven King who happens to hate one part of the pairing.

Feanor is no fan of Fingolfin's line in general, Fingon being his half-brother's heir would not have been the most beloved person to Feanor. Thingol is also not particularly fond of Beren.

The difference is that Thingol is giving Beren this task because he deems it impossible and hopes Beren will either give up or straight up die while Feanor's sons swear the Oath so they can't stop unless they die.

In any case, the setup is quite similar at its core.

Of course they do not set off alone. Maedhros is accompanied by his family and the host of Feanor, sharing the Oath with his brothers. Beren meanwhile cashes in on his own family's good relationship with Finrod Felagund (himself a relative of Maedhros and Fingon) and gets his own company for his quest. Now we have an Oath of some sort on both sides and Finrod to connect them further.

Next we have Luthien and Fingon, who out of devotion themselves set off on a journey to follow their partner. Now, I don't quite remember where this comes up but Fingon, if memory serves, goes for two reasons: 1, cuz he too wishes to build something new in Middle-earth, a call to adventure if you will, and 2, because Maedhros is going. Luthien follows Beren when she senses he is in danger, so like Fingon there's a deep bond there that motivates her.

Maedhros and Beren both end up captured by the enemy (Maedhros after losing a significant portion of his company and Beren loses them while captured) and against the better judgment of just about any sentient being Luthien and Fingon both make the solitary treck to some of the most dangerous places on the planet to save them. Thangorodrim are three mountains/volcanos atop Melkor's stronghold Angband, teeming with evil creatures and magic. Dol-in-Gaurhoth belongs to Sauron at this point, where his werewolves make their lair. Incidentally, Beren and Luthien also head for Angband later on.

At this point, Luthien does manage to save Beren from Dol-in-Gaurhoth with the help of non other than Huan, a hound of the Valar gifted to Maedhros' brother Celegorm, again drawing a connection between the two tales that is not quite a parallel but interesting. We won't get into the logistics of how Luthien and Huan came to be a team but like her, Fingon also receives the help of a beast close to a Valar - Thorondor, King of the Eagles

How does Thorondor know to help? Well, Fingon manages to track Maedhros down by doing what every elf does when they are distraught: he sings. And Maedhros, by a small miracle, hears his song and answers, the same way Luthien found Beren in Angband because when all else fails, sing. Well, he sings. Actually they both do, at different points.

Anyway, Maedhros is weakened and in agony, and begs Fingon to kill him. And Fingon, because he sees no other way, raises his bow and prays to Manwe that his arrow might fly swift and true. And Manwe, despite all the bad blood between him and especially the Feanorians, despite the Doom of Mandos promising that everything the Kinslayers do ends in failure, and despite everything that went down between the Noldor and the Valar...sends Thorondor instead. Thorondor, who also appears to help Luthien bring a dying Beren back to Doriath, much like he carries Fingon and Maedhros back to Lake Mithrim.

Beren is currently dying because Carcaroth bit off his hand and poisoned him that way. His right hand, to be precise. Maedhros is in horrific shape because he was tortured for decades and then had his hand cut off.

So if I had a nickle for every time Thorondor carried someone on the quest for some shiny stones back home after they lose their right hand, I'd have two nickles.

Luckily both Maedhros and Beren survive their ordeals...until they both die with a Silmaril in their hands later on. But that's neither here nor there.

Luthien, in her grief, sings her sorrow to Namo, who consults with Manwe on her behalf. And Manwe hears her plea and does what he can do help her, like he heard Fingon's plea and helped him.

So, to summarize, dudes taller than most of their families set off (together with their respective companies, which include Finrod at some point) to retrieve Feanor's shiny stones because an elven King said so and end up captured by the bad guys. Pretty dark haired people follow them, against all odds find them (one of them even twice) and beg the Valar for help, who answer in unexpected ways. Tall dudes lose their right hands, Thorondor is there to play Great Eagle Airlines. Someone is found through singing. Both Maedhros and Beren end up dying very soon after reclaiming one Silmaril.

I hope this is halfway coherent because again, covid. It's probably jumbled all to hell but I think I made my point

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk

#beren and luthien #russingon #luthien tinuviel #beren erchamion #Fingon #Maedhros

[ao3feed-tolkien]

what is that quest that pulls me onwards

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/itFa2b1

by blueleafsky

"So," Findekáno said brightly, gesturing with his long branch. "We simply need to plan the perfect heist."

His audience, consisting of his wife, two of his cousins, several squirrels, a flock of sparrows, and one mildly confused skunk, stared at him.

"I have a better idea," said Artanis.

"A heist is the logical –" Findekáno began heatedly.

"No, no, I agree with you. I simply think we should adjust the timing, and our allies."

"What allies," Maitimo said gloomily.

"Exactly. We should seek out Uncle Elwë and ask for information and possibly provisions and assistance."

"Getting help is a good idea. I think he would probably receive us, since we have news from Valinor and our families don't appear capable of going out of sight of the coastline."

Words: 22635, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of up the mighty mountains ever known

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Fingon | Findekáno, Maedhros | Maitimo, Galadriel | Artanis, Caranthir | Morifinwë, Elu Thingol | Elwë Singollo, Melian (Tolkien), Lúthien Tinúviel, Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Beren Erchamion, Fëanor | Curufinwë, Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë, Finarfin | Arafinwë, Argon | Arakáno, Haleth of the Haladin

Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo, Galadriel | Artanis/Caranthir | Morifinwë, Beren Erchamion/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Beren Erchamion/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto/Lúthien Tinúviel, Galadriel | Artanis/Caranthir | Morifinwë/Haleth of the Haladin, Amrod/Argon | Arakáno, Argon | Arakáno & Fingon | Findekáno

Additional Tags: Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Good Dad Thingol, Good Mom Melian, the fëanorians are maiar and nobody knew, passably ok but flawed dads fëanor fingolfin and finarfin, everything in canon happens a bit to the left, temporary major character death, caranthir and glaurung have a very intense petty rivalry going on, luthien enjoys having foster siblings and grows up a lot as a result, thingol wants to know why he has to raise so many finweans, bullet point fic, mostly - Freeform, Nirnaeth Arnoediad, specifically making it better, except for what happened to amrod. sorry amrod, at least he's not dead?

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/itFa2b1

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

[busymagpie]

Are we also going to get not-so-sfw headcanons 👀? And do you have any hcs on their relationship after a potential reembodiment?

I definitely have some not-so-sfw headcanons, but I'm not sure if this is what people want to hear 😅 I still feel weird posting about these things, especially as an asexual. Not that this is an uncomfortable topic for me, but because I feel like people would judge me or challenge my ace-ness. Anyways, so if more than one person would be interested in some weirdly specific not sfw headcanons, I'm gonna post them.

I haven't thought about their re-embodiment enough to form concrete headcanons, but I had some thoughts that I could share. This is not LaCE compliant, but you know... does it even have to be anymore?

While being in the Halls Fingon can see and follow along on what Maedhros is up to and it deeply saddens him seeing in what state Maedhros is in, how he seems to get worse and worse over time, and what things he is capable of doing.

I’m actually torn on the idea of whether Maedhros would follow the summons to Mandos or if he would refuse and stay behind forever “unbodied”. (I like tragic and sad endings, but I want Mae and Finno to be happy again soooo..)

Even if he would follow the summons, I think he wouldn’t immediately. I believe he’s feeling a lot of self-hatred and like he doesn’t deserve to go to Mandos, so it would take him a good while convincing himself it actually would be better if he went and if he is summoned he deserves to go.

It would take him a long time to heal and even then I think he wouldn’t be allowed to be reborn because of his deeds. Or at least not for a very long time. Out of all of his brothers he would spend the longest amount of time in the Halls.

Fingon’s fëa finding Maedhros’ in the Halls would greatly help Maedhros in his healing process. Since Maedhros did not witness Fingon’s death, he got no closure on it, but now in the Halls with Fingon there he would. And so would Fingon.

After their re-embodiment Fingon would still love him unconditionally, though he sometimes would wonder if Maedhros could ever “fall back” and act like he had in the later stages of his life after Fingon’s initial death. He’d sort of be on guard, sometimes emotionally taking a step back to watch Maedhros from a neutral perspective.

Maedhros would remember everything that happened but sort of feel neutral about it. Some things would still make him sad, like thinking about Maglor for example, but the guilt and self-hatred would mostly be gone. And that’s exactly what worries Fingon.

They’d never quite reach the level of carefreeness they had in the early days, they’d feel distant at times because they’re basically two completely new people, but overall they’d be happy.

#russingon #headcanons #not proofread again #long post #it seems shorter on mobile?

[tolkien-feels]

Hey hey any headcanons about Aredhel and Maedhros after Thangorodrim that you want to share?

I'm assuming this is because I briefly mentioned her in this post, right?

This got long-ish so under a cut. Why do all my post-rescue posts get long lol

The way I headcanon it is that Aredhel is sort of... Fingon's right hand woman throughout the whole thing. It's not even that she's super attached to Maedhros (she loves two people who love him, but her own relationship with him is fairly distant even if cordial), but who else can Fingon rely on? Fingolfin is busy handling roughly three billion crises. Turgon is mourning his wife, and it's better for everyone if he's never in the same room as Maedhros. Of course, there are other people at camp, but Aredhel is already right there and she would do almost anything for Fingon anyway, so she might as well help out.

I think she comes into this with a wish to support her brother first and foremost, be it by convincing him to get some actual sleep with the promise to wake him up if anything minor or major happens, or by keeping him informed about how things are going with the rest of the camp. (Especially about Turgon. I feel like Fingon would be very anxious about Turgon. Wanting to save Maedhros doesn't mean Fingon isn't aware of how he's made Turgon's life even worse than it already was, and I have no reason to doubt that would be a concern for him. Actually, how Aredhel balances being sister to both Fingon and Turgon is something I'm always very interested in.)

Anyway! I feel like much like Fingolfin, by virtue of wanting to spend time with Fingon, Aredhel comes to spend time with Maedhros, and because she doesn't hold grudges for long, she's soon getting genuinely as excited as Fingon is whenever Maedhros shows any sign of recovery whatsoever. By the time Maedhros is conscious and coherent enough to understand Aredhel visits him all the time, she's already legitimately fond of him, and she's open enough with her emotions that he can tell.

Of course, Maedhros sees Aredhel as both A Woman™️ and Little More Than A Child™️, so he's deeply uncomfortable with the idea of displaying any vulnerability around her, so as he recovers, he never achieves with her the emotional closeness he develops of Fingon. Aredhel is the one to tell good news to and to get encouragement from, Fingon is the one to help him handle all the countless unpleasant aspects of healing. (And even that is more about Fingon dragging Maedhros kicking and screaming into not spending unwise amounts of energy trying to play tough for no reason. When Maedhros goes back to the Feanorians this will happen all over again - he wasn't a fan of relying on anyone or displaying weakness in Valinor, after Angband it's a whole Thing.)

I got sidetracked. I was going to segue into Maedhros having a very, very distorted view of Aredhel. He is picturing the little girl who used to trail after Celegorm, wearing flowers in her hair and pretty dresses to ride her white horse. That girl probably couldn't handle the aftermath of Angband, that's fair enough - she's tomboyish (to use a word I dislike but that seems to have a place in elven society), but not rough around the edges. But he's ignoring she's been through Helcaraxe. (Which... Maedhros doesn't know what that was like! He might vaguely guess, but Fingon would probably deliberately downplay the horror of it for a while because it's in the past anyway and making Maedhros feel guilty won't retroactively make anything better for any of the Exiles - and might make everything worse for Maedhros.)

But yeah. Aredhel has been through Helcaraxe. I doubt she has the skill or temperament to actually play nurse, but she was almost certainly involved in some pretty gruesome situations, and she was never squeamish about blood to begin with. She's probably as prepared to do anything Maedhros asks of her as Fingon is, if he would just ask, which he won't.

So the way I headcanon it is that she's extremely involved while Maedhros is unconscious, but grows more distant as he recovers and seems uncomfortable around her.

But early on, she's probably representing Fingon's interests to Fingolfin as much as she can, and I have no doubt she's part of the delicate political situation involving taking Maedhros from one camp to the other, because she's the closest thing Fingolfin can find to someone liked by both sides. I also think it's likelier than not that she's helped the healers at least a handful of times with things she's probably learned to do in the Crossing, such as changing bandages and giving orders that have to be both authoritative and precise. She's almost definitely the main source of emotional support Fingon has as he's questioned by the healers over and over again over information he wishes he had, and as he's warned basically everyday that Maedhros won't live through the night except by a miracle.

All of this is to say that I think Aredhel might play a much more important role in the aftermath of the rescue than Maedhros really guesses, and that she might walk out of this experience loving Maedhros much more than she ever did in Valinor, just because she barely even spent any time with him there. But it's very much unilateral. As far as Maedhros is concerned, she's still just Fingon's little sister who can't imagine Angband and who he would never ask to. (Though he's very much wrong - no one he knows can imagine it anyway, and because she saw him at his most injured, she might have a better chance at guessing than his brothers do.)

[glitterlessgold]

Okay Tolkien nerds, so who is going to re-skin Supergiant’s Hades so it’s about Fëanor breaking out of the Void and into the Dagor Dagorath?

Area 1 - The Void. Fëanor is awoken by the weeping of Nienna, Lady of Mercy and given a boon, told that he must make it back to Arda for the final battle.  Fights his way through an army of darkness and spiders and sees the hole Morgoth has torn through the Void to make his way out.  Final boss of this area is the ghostly form of Sauron, guarding Morgoth’s exit.  You find Maedhros there, who has been imprisoned by Sauron for centuries  He gives you his Silmaril which he refused to be parted from even in death.

Area 2 - The Halls of Mandos.  Here Fëanor must battle his way through the shades of a bunch of elves he royally pissed off during his lifetime, including a frozen Argon, a feral Celegorm, and a hysterical Amras who cannot find his twin.  Caranthir is indifferent to Fëanor, but Curufin has been upgrading his weapons (with Curufin’s hammer instead of Daedalus’s hammer) because he’s still a daddy’s boy.  Final boss is Fingolfin who thinks he’s hot stuff after challenging a god.

Area 3 - Valinor.  Fëanor finds himself in the gardens of Lorien and fight some minor Maiar and Galadriel who want him to hand over the Silmaril.  He makes his way to his house but has to fight a bunch of stone statues brought to life by Nerdanel, who has been taking care of a reembodied Amrod who is still traumatized by being accidentally burned to death by his dad.  Fëanor tries to make his way to Eärendil’s ship to get his second Silmaril but the final boss of this level is Elwing and you can actually only beat her by finding Elrond and leveling up your relationship with him enough so that he’ll call off his bird-mom.

Area 4 - Middle Earth. Eärendil takes Fëanor on his flying ship over to Middle Earth, gives Fëanor his Silmaril and drops him off to find the third one while he and this random guy named Turin go fight Morgoth.  Fëanor has to battle a bunch of vampires and balrogs as he wander the beach - and a clever player might notice the game’s soundtrack giving you hints on where to go.  Eventually he finds the Silmaril but it’s light attracts Morgoth who is, of course, the big boss of this level.  After killing Morgoth the Valar ask you to surrender the Silmarils.  If you do, they will rekindle the light of the two trees and you will find Maglor on the beach who has been playing the game’s soundtrack, and has also been the game’s narrator the whole time.  If you fight them and lose you will be sent back to the void and have to fight your way out again, but without boons.  If you win, you keep the Silmarils but all the mortal creatures are called away to a new world and you are left behind with the elves in a sunless world to make your own way.

Valar give boons instead of the Olympians.  Curufin’s hammer instead of Daedalus’s hammer.  Caranthir is running Charon’s shop.  Starlight instead of darkness.  Elven wine instead of nectar.  If you talk to other elves enough you can better your relationship with them and improve their lives, like helping Maedhros find Fingon and Amras find Amrod, even finding Miriel (though whether she’s in Mandos or Lorien or Valinor IDK it depends on what canon you’re reading)

#tolkien #The Silmarillion #Feanor #hades #zagreus #instead of a son trying to escape his dad it's a dad trying to be better to his sons

[armenelols]

I'm properly bored as well lol. Bored enough and unable to find excitement in anything else, so I started making aesthetics.

Anyways. Hope your day's going well.

Here's my ask: what are your headcanons about the dynamic & relationship between Maglor and Maedhros?

Oh boy this is going to be long

When I got this ask I actually started writing a one-shot about them but my attention span is short so it ended up once again unfinished in my drafts :D it kinda shows through this post because I kept falling into my weird storytelling mode

Thus the reason it took me so long to answer lol

SO

The short version: out of the feanorian bunch, Maedhros and Maglor have always been the closest to each other. It doesn't change with time, even when they do.

The longer version has gotten very much out of hand, I strayed off topic several times, forgot to mention half of the things I wanted to but here go:

Maedhros is the oldest of Finwë's grandchildren, so I imagine him being very close to Maglor, as I headcanon them close in age (with Fingon being only slightly younger). Even after the rest of Maedhros's siblings are born, I still see him being closest to Maglor - two oldest of the brothers, of the cousins. Maedhros is the mom friend, and he tries to get along with everyone, take care of everyone. Maglor is too busy perfecting his music skill and occasionally acting snobbish to help (yes, I headcanon younger Maglor as a bit of a snob, sue me :D), but Maedhros doesn't mind because he loves his brother even if he sometimes makes him wish to bang his head against the wall. Repeatedly.

When their lives begin to crumble under their feet, Maglor lets go of his snobbish attitude and tries to help. Fëanor isn't himself anymore, and Finwë is too blind with his love to see what his son is turning into. Maedhros is trying to keep everyone together, Maglor as well, and Fingon and Finrod do their best to help. Fëanor is banished, and all his sons go with him. Nerdanel doesn't. Maedhros start breaking under the pressure put on his shoulders, but he prevails. With Fingon in Tirion, Maglor is now his biggest support.

Everything escalates.

After Finwë's death, I don't think they were given much time to grieve - not with all that happened afterward, and especially not with Fëanor being... Well, you know what I mean. Oath happens, and the first kinslaying, and Losgar. Fëanor is dead, Maedhros is captured and rescued. (in some versions, Amrod is dead, but I am following mostly Silm in this, so take that into consideration further on)

During my latest Silmarillion reread, I noticed a pattern - pretty much every time it mentioned feanorians wanting to do something stupid, being angry, or something similar, it only excluded Maedhros - never Maglor. So while I think Maglor was one of the more gentle brothers, I don't think he was an innocent dude just following his brothers around or something similar. I think that Maedhros's brothers didn't try to resist the oath much in general - at first, they did to an extent, but after some time, they stopped trying. Thus Celegorm's and Curufin's misadventures in Nargothrond (made stronger by the silmaril part) :D Caranthir, Maglor and Ambarussar would be somehow better off, but still not resisting that hard. In the later first age, I think, all of them were pretty much unrecognizable from their past, happier selves. Maedhros would keep his mortals, but the rest would be more looser with them.

Doriath changed that, I think: with the three Cs death, and Eluréd and Elurín lost, I think Maedhros finally snapped. He was tired, and he stopped caring - and I think that was also the breaking for Maglor (though in a different way), when he finally realized how far they have fallen.

When the third kinslaying came, Maedhros just wanted it to be over. Ambarussar were dead, and he and Maglor were alone again, the oldest ones. Silmaril was out of his reach, after being so close. And then he was presented with another pair of twins, as if Elurín and Eluréd come again, but this time... This time he didn't care for their lives. He was tired.

Maglor was tired also, but this time, he was full of regret from the past. He wanted to fix his mistakes. He didn't think anything could excuse his past actions, but maybe he could do at least one more good deed in his life.

He convinces Maedhros and they gain a whole shiny new pair of twins.

Maedhros, I think, grows to like them (not sure if I would go as far as to say love, depends on how long exactly they spend together), and for a time, Elrond and Elros make him see what he used to fight for. For better future, for better life. Maglor is doing his best, but he isn't sure how. Maedhros was the one used to keeping his family in check. For Maglor, this was a new field, and he didn't dare to go against Maedhros often.

War of Wrath happens.

Maedhros wants to steal the silmarils, Maglor doesn't. But Maglor is tired and goes along with Maedhros's wish.

Silmarils burn them, and Maedhros is dead - too tired, he has given up years ago. There was nothing for him left.

Maglor, for the first time in his life, is alone. He doesn't know what to do. And so grieves, and grieves, and grieves.

*but since we all love a proper happy end, Maglor is either going to end up hanging around in modern times, much more in peace with himself than he was at the end of the First Age. Or he crashes at Valinor, where his family is reborn because Mandos doesn't want to be anywhere near them. Maedhros is happy again, and has a new purpose in life. Maglor heals. They are together again, and happy*

#thanks for the ask mate! ❤ #good luck with your aesthetics #excited to see them if you decide to post :D #and my day (or night at this point) is nice if we forget the boredom #thanks for asking! #hope the same goes for you

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Well, with my copy of The Peoples of Middle-earth, I’ve now had a look at the alternate version of the account of Losgar (the one where Amrod is burned to death) and I have quite a few thoughts on it.

1) It removes one element that is very dear to the hearts of many people in the fandom, that of Maedhros being the only person among the Fëanorians to oppose the burning of the ships, and specifically remembering Fingon. In this version, most of the Fëanorian armies are unaware of the ship-burning until it has already happened, as Fëanor sets the ships afire in secret with the help only of Curufin and a few others. (Further confirmation of Curufin being terrible.) We do have Fëanor saying, after the burning, “Now at least I am certain that no faintheart or traitor among you will be able to take back even one ship to the succour of Fingolfin and his folk.” (See how Fëanor’s got things twisted around again - he’s describing any refusal to betray the rest of the Noldor as being treason.) It’s certainly possible to fanon that line into Fëanor being worried that Maedhros will go back to get Fingon, but that’s just fanon; there’s no textual indication towards it.

So the effect of this change is to make Maedhros stand out less from the other Fëanorians, and to make most of the Fëanorians less personally guilty of the ship-burning than in the Silm version.

2) Most of the Fëanorian armies are “dismayed” by the ship-burning when they awake to find it done, but not out of either value for the works of the Teleri or concern for the Fingolfinians. Their concerns are far more materially focused: not only would the ships have continued to be “useful for further journeying” in search of better ports further south, Fëanor hadn’t unpacked them first. He burned all their luggage! Food, clothing, tents, tools, objects of sentimental value - they’ve just lost most of it!

This is hilarious to me. I really hadn’t thought Fëanor could get more impractical than leaving behind two-thirds of his military forces when facing an enemy of great power and unknown capabilities, but that’ll show me! Fëanor can always get more impractical. I’m at a loss for words to describe how ridiculously dumb this is. So now you’re in an unfamiliar land, without backup, also without supplies, and without intelligence (either military or, apparently, otherwise), following someone who has, to all appearances, completely lost it.

Fëanor’s lucky he made it to the balrogs because seriously, this is why fragging was invented.

3) Nobody notices that Amrod is missing until the morning (even though the burning wakes them up in the middle of the night). The passage says that Amrod intended to sail the ship back to Valinor and return to Nerdanel and that Fëanor suspected this, but also that Fëanor was “dismayed” to hear that Amrod had been sleeping in the first ship he set fire to. (One would think!) Which indicates that another reason for the ship-burning was to prevent Amrod from turning back.

(My usual view is that, of the Fëanorians, only Maedhros [and of course Celebrimbor] have any chance of returning from the Halls of Mandos, because the others showed no inclination towards recognizing that their actions were wrong. But in this version I would obviously make an exception for Amrod; it’s likely that he would return to life at some point, since he was already regretting his decisions very early on and planning to act on that.)

4) This version makes it very clear, if the Oath didn’t already, that the relationship between Fëanor and his sons is deeply unhealthy. After Amras calls out his father for burning his brother to death, “no one dared speak to Fëanor again of this matter”. If your father can burn one of your brothers to death and the response of most of you is to say nothing about it - and afterwards, still stay committed to carrying out his goals - that is a downright disturbing level of control.

5) Personally, I don’t like this version as much as the one in The Silmarillion (despite my amusement at Fëanor burning all their supplies), primarily for practical reasons. (The Maedhros stuff is also a consideration, but less so for me because in my view Maedhros’ reform during the years prior to the Nirnaeth proceeds from and is the result of Fingon’s rescue, rather than due to Maedhros being a better person than his brothers from the start.)

Specifically, I simply don’t find it credible that an elf could burn to death in a boat, on the ocean, without at some point waking up and jumping in the water. And elves are incredibly hardy, so Amrod would be able to heal from even fairly severe burns if he did so. Yes, people in enclosed rooms can fall unconscious from smoke inhalation and die from burns without awakening, but he’s not in an enclosed room, he’s in a boat, on the ocean, in the open air, where there’s practically always a breeze, so the density of smoke wouldn’t be as great...and if that boat was the first one set on fire then he’d feel it before the smoke buildup became too much... It just doesn’t work for me, to think that Amrod could burn to death without either Amrod himself or anyone else noticing.

So I think I’ll stick with the Silm version as my personal canon, but this did give a lot of interesting insights into Tolkien’s ideas on Losgar, and his ideas around Fëanor’s relationship with his sons. And confirms my personal view that Silmarils > kids in Fëanor’s values, if he’s able to both 1) not openly react to the news that he’s burned one of his sons to death and 2) prevent anyone else from ever mentioning it to him.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #history of middle earth #fëanor #sons of fëanor #fëanorians #amrod

[tar-maitime]

if you stay by my side

Rating: T Characters: Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekano Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon, fem!Maedhros/Fingon Additional: War of Wrath, reunions, major character injury, angst, indefinite but hopeful ending WC: 1k

Direct follow up to the last part of "talking to the air"

Fingon has been fighting to get back to Russandol for years, decades now - in some ways since the moment he died, and actively since word came through the tapestries that a fresh army was being sent to Beleriand. The news of two new kinslayings, though they horrified him, did not stop him. The incredulity of his family, dead and living, once he made his course known to them, did not stop him. Nor did Námo’s remonstrations, nor his uncle Arafinwë’s attempts to keep him from the host, nor the slews of orcs and worse monsters that he’s been battling his way through since he landed.

None of it will stop him getting back to her.

And now - now - he happens to glance over at the second force that’s pinned the current batch of orcs in place for his people to finish off, and he sees crimson banners and cloaks and hair like flame, and he nearly freezes. Gray eyes lock with his across the battlefield in disbelieving recognition. He can almost feel the embers of a familiar fire in the back of his mind where the remains of their bond lie, shattered upon his death.

Then an orc chieftain comes up behind Russandol while she’s distracted by him, and plunges a black spear into a gap at the side of her armor.

(It’s at a place that is difficult to manage with one hand, an obvious weakness. She used to have him or Maglor or a trusted aide help her with it. How long has she been letting this slide, why has she been letting this slide...)

(He doesn’t have time to think about any of this in the moment, but later - later, he will.)

He doesn’t even think before cutting his way to her, fighting so fiercely that he’s there before her knees even start to buckle. His sword rams through the throat of the orc who dared touch her, and then Fingon isn’t paying attention to the battle anymore, because Russandol is staggering and falling and he moves to catch her and follows her to the ground, cradling her in his arms.

(Their respective troops have little to no idea what is going on, but they do their work well anyway, fighting past them and driving the orcs back, leaving the two of them relatively safe.)

Russandol’s breathing is shallow and shaky, but she still gazes up at him like he’s the greatest wonder of the world. “Finno,” she murmurs. “It’s you. You’re really here.”

“It’s me,” Fingon chokes out, his hands shaking as he fumbles with his free hand at his cloak. It’s filthy, and the spear probably did damage that staunching the blood flow won’t help, but he presses the fabric against Russandol’s side anyway. “I’m here, Russë, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay. You’ll be all right.”

“How...”

“Ssh, save your strength, all right? I’ll tell you all about it once the healers have fixed you up. We’ll have time.” He can’t lose her. Not now. Not when he’s just found her again.

Russandol laughs weakly. “Again with the...trying to bribe me to...see a healer.”

“Well, this time you will,” Fingon says firmly, then twists to look back towards the support lines and yell, “Medic! We need a medic!” Someone will hear. Someone has to. “The healers will get you taken care of and you’ll be fine. And we’ll be together again.”

“Now I know...you’re making things up,” Russandol says softly. “You wouldn’t want me. Not anymore. Not after...”

“I do,” Fingon says, absolute as granite. “Always. There is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.” That had taken some working through in the Halls, but all of his agonizing seems very far away now. “I love you and I want you and I will get you help - medic! - and when you’re better and this is over we’ll--” He searches frantically for something to keep her eyes open and on him. “We’ll finally have a home together. Like we used to talk about. Just stay with me, Russë.”

Her eyes flutter. She reaches her hand up shakily to cup his face. “Tell me more, Finno,” she whispers. “Can we have Gil visit us there? He’s king now...wouldn’ be able to stay all the time.”

“Of course he’ll visit,” Fingon promises. He’s seen their son since arriving on these shores, gotten to talk with him some. Gil-galad is deeply conflicted about his mother’s kinslayings, but they can reconcile. It just needs time. “He’ll visit all the time. And so will Maglor, he’ll drive us mad...”

“And the twins,” Russandol says, and for a moment Fingon thinks she means Ambarussa, now dead, but no - “Elrond. Elros. Adopted them without you - ‘m sorry.”

“They’ll be there, too. I already know I’ll love them, Russë. You’ll have to introduce us - they’re my niece’s grandsons, too, aren’t they?”

Russandol nods weakly. “You’ll take good care of them.”

“We both will,” Fingon says desperately, holding her just a bit tighter. “Russë, please, stay with me, hang on--” He thinks he can hear running footsteps in the distance, prays to anyone listening that they’re healers. “Please, I came for you, I was looking for you for so long, through this whole stinking war; you can’t go now when I’ve just found you.”

“Finno.” There are tears spilling out of the corners of Russandol’s eyes, but she tries to smile. “Finnonya. It’s okay. You’re here with me. I got to see you one more time. It’s enough.”

“It is not,” Fingon says, forcing back a sob and turning it into stubborn fury instead. “You don’t get to leave me alone, Russë, it’s not fair, I don’t care if you want to get me back for the Nirnaeth or whatever this is, pick something else.”

It’s telling, he thinks with a sinking feeling, that she doesn’t argue about the Nirnaeth. She just settles herself in his arms like she would settle into a bed at the end of a long day. “Love you,” she murmurs. “You don’t have to wait for me. If you don’t want. Or if I go to the Void. Can find an Indis. You should be happy.”

“I should,” Fingon agrees sharply, “and I need you, so stay with me, Russë, so help me, if you die I will come and drag you back from Mandos or wherever else they throw you. Don’t make me do it, Russë, meldanya, please, just hang on.”

Her hand against his cheek goes limp, and Fingon has time for a single second of bright, pure panic before a trio of healers with Fëanorian red armbands descends on them and pulls Russandol out of his arms, working over her and bundling her onto a stretcher to carry away. It all happens so fast that for long moments he simply kneels there, staring after them as they run with the stretcher. He doesn’t know what happens now. He doesn’t know what to do.

They didn’t cover her face. They were still trying to help her; when they took her away, they were hurrying. There’s still hope.

Fingon picks himself up and takes off running after them. Whatever comes next, he needs to be there for her.

#silmarillion #russingon #maedhros x fingon #maedhros #fingon #reunions #war of wrath #i promised a follow-up to that cliffhanger and i delivered #although the new cliffhanger might arguably be worse... #roots of my tree #my stories #female Maedhros

[testingcheats0n]

Silmarillion actor!au where:

-Fëanor is actually younger than 4/8 of the actors who play his sons/wife and like 90% of the cast which made some intense scenes rather awkward at the beginning because that pretty boy barely in his twenties is supposed to be a war general and a king with seven sons. It also doesn't help that he is new to the acting scene so everyone is like a legend to him and he has to keep his star-struck reactions at minimum every time he sees award-winning actress Cate Blanchett. (He does have a big collection of autographs though, everyone thinks he's cute so they always say yes, even if they're not that famous) On the other hand it makes Maedhros the oldest of the family and he's a really good big bro to Fëanor that likes to tease his 'dad'.

-Fëanor actually auditioned for the role of Atarinkë but Curufin fit the role better and they looked very similar anyway, so they made him audition for the role since they've already tried with different actors and they could never get it quite right. Everyone is surprized when he nails the audition, but they're still a bit sceptical because of his age and inexperience, nonetheless he's an acting prodigy and nails the Noldo's personality down to a pat.

-Maedhros is a jock, the big brother on the set and the only one who didn't have to learn horse-riding or bulk up from scratch for his part (unlike Amras and Amrod who were still a little twiggy from their last part as the jokester twins in some wizard movies 👀). He's also known for his jovial personality and love for pranks, in particular the pranks he pulls on the younger cast.

-He also met his fiancé Fingon on set, but they've kept their relationship on the downlow for the first two-three seasons since they were playing cousins, after all. They didn't do that good of a job because their chemistry was crystal clear everytime they interacted in front of a camera.

-Maglor is a bit of a surprise when you meet him irl because he's a super stoic and no-nonsense kind of guy, contrary to the bard he's in the show, but on the other hand he's a great storyteller and can make the most mundane of situations on set seem like the funniest thing ever.

-Because he apears to be so standoffish he's the most frequent target for pranks. (And he also scared Elrond and Elros' child actors the first time they met. He didn't take it at heart and did in fact, win the twins' hearts by complementing their acting skills since they were supposed to be scared of him for the first three or so episodes)

-Elros and Elrond were supposed to die during the siege of Sirion, but Maglor and Maedhros had great chemistry with Eluréd and Elurín's actors (and children in general) so the director didn't want to miss another great oportunity like that. Because of that the entire script for season 10 of The Silmarillion had to be rewritten.

-There was a bit of a debate whether to hire an older pair of twins for when Elrond and Elros grew up, but instead fans got whole two-three seasons of small snippets of M/M/E/E's daily lives, which made the parting scene and the end of the Oath arc that much heart-wrenching. On the other hand the twins became fan-favorites and Elrond's actor got a deal for six more movies ala Marvel and Elros' got his own spin-off with the Men.

-Maglor and Maedhros really become good friends during the run of the show, they live close-by and go together on social outings.

-Mairon and Melkor met on set during the first filming of the seduction of Sauron and it was love at first sight. Their relationship continued even when Melkor was no longer in the show and they eventually got married to the delight of every angbang shipper.

#silmarillion #actor au #feanor #maedhros #maglor #fingon #angbang #sauron #mairon #melkor #elros tar minyatur #elrond #russingon

[tolkienhorror]

In Sauron’s Lab: File #5

Another oneshot about one of Sauron’s torture methods.

Warnings: Abuse, torture, non-con, flaying, public humiliation, cannibalism, medical torture.

Please note: This was created on a tumblr prompt given on my main blog. Prompt: Fingon/Sauron, Audience, Crying, Collaring, Public humiliation

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I asked for a King to replace the one you lost, Lieutenant, and all you bring me is this, Morgoth had told Sauron when the orcs had dragged Findekáno into the throne room of the enemy’s base.

You have a week to break him, the Dark Lord had told his minion, interrupting Sauron’s almost nervous sounding explanations about how very useful the son of the new High King would be in their hands for their cause, black eyes uncaring, greyish skin glowing like the destructive flash of lightning in the shine of the Silmarils wrongly crowning that terrible, hollowed face. You make him kneel for me, or you can go right back to that mountain I pried you and feed another of your bodies to the crows.

  Then they’d taken him away, and Findekáno remembered wondering if it would even take him a week at the mercy of someone who’d long given up on all empathy along with his sane mind, only to serve this monster who didn’t even bother caring about him in the presence of a prisoner, before he would wish for death. For a quick end, rather than clinging to the foolish hope that someone would come to find him here.

  No one would. No one even knew he was here and they wouldn't for several weeks, not before he was expected home from his journey to Himring to surprise his husband. By the time, they would start to wonder in Hithlum, it would be too late.

  Maitimo would probably learn last, and even he would not come. Findekáno had made him promise, made him swear on everything safe for what would have bordered on an oath that neither of them needed another one of. More than that, Maitimo would know, better than anyone, that Findekáno had been lost the moment his escort and he had been overwhelmed with the help of countless black arrows and half a dozen of fiery whips from behind. A year, he had once told Findekáno. If you could hold on to your will to live or your sanity or both for a year of being a prisoner in Angband, you were counted among the lucky ones.

  As it turned out, for Findekáno, it was two days before he started to regret that he hadn’t tried to bite through his own wrist arteries in these few minutes that he’d spent alone in a pitch-dark, moldy cell, damned to wait for whatever what was to come. And that was before anyone had even touched him.

  Findekáno had no doubt that a lot of them wanted to. Two of the boldest creatures reaching out for him had died already when another of Morgoth's highest ranking Lieutenants had dragged Findekáno from his cell to lead him towards a huge hall at the end of the dungeon wing that had already echoed with the screams of more than one of his people at that point. And dozens orcs more were very clearly waiting for their chance, lurking in the corner of that torture chamber, scarred faces distorted into sneers. The scornful whispers about all that they would love to do to their most precious prisoner given half a chance were only interrupted by the occasional brawl or by the sounds of two or more of those despicable bastards starting one of their perverted, brutal mating rituals, high on watching their master use his songs and evil instruments and cruel skill on yet another elvish prisoner.

  But they would not be allowed to approach. And the one person Sauron would not lay hand on, was Findekáno himself. The former maia might long be beyond a sane mind, but if there was one thing he was not, it was stupid. Very well aware of Findekáno's relationship to the prisoner that Findekáno had robbed him of under his very nose not too long ago, not least thanks to everything Sauron had seen in Maitimo's mind in decades of not only physical but also mental torture, Sauron must know that there was very little he could have threatened Findekáno with that he didn't expect. Spending night after night with talking Maitimo through his nightmares and memories had made sure of that. Repeat performances were very obviously not among the maia's twisted preferences. So he chose to confront Findekáno with the only thing he could truly hurt him with: the suffering of his own soldiers. Which would have been bad enough on its own, but it still wasn't the worst.

  Findekáno would gladly have borne every pain, every humiliation if he could have saved any of his warriors by that, even if it was only by the blade to their throats. The uncertainty of what would come for exiles like them afterward was better than even an hour under the clawed hands of Morgoth's lapdog. If they'd let him, Findekáno would have taken the place of every single of the elves and she-elves he had to watch scream their lives out and yet not being allowed to die in the first days of his captivity; and that, too, was something Sauron knew, of course. The worst was that being the only choice Findekáno could not make. This was the promise he had given his husband in return. That he would not give in. That he would not trade his soul for a couple of lives that were forfeit anyway, weakening his own mind by letting the cunning spirit of the maia enter it to rip it wide open and put into it whatever Sauron thought suited to bend Findekáno to his will. They could not have him as long as he did not give himself to them, they said, Maitimo said, so he would endure. For he knew, if his mind would no longer be his own, if he would go back to his people in the fashion Morgoth doubtlessly wanted him to, no longer himself but merely a vessel … A vessel like they had had to eliminate so many who had allegedly escaped their thralldom, coming to either his father's or Maitimo's doorstep for assault rather than refuge … Then the first person they would set Findekáno to kill would be his own husband. By refusing to give his enemies this chance, therefore trading the life of the person he loved most for the one of dozens – almost a hundred, in the end – other elves, Findekáno thought, maybe he had actually sold his soul already.

  A high-pitched yell, quickly cut off by the choked gurgling of blood blocking the throat it had emerged from, tore him from the useless circle of self-hate that was his mind.

  "As I was saying before you so rudely started to disassociate," Sauron sighed in that honey-laced voice of his while throwing the tongue he'd just cut from his victim's mouth in a bowl nearby, "I'm starting to think, that useless husband of yours made the wrong choice, relinquishing his claim to the throne. If all people from your side of your kin are as breakable as your unit, Your Highness, the Noldor might have been better advised living even under those kinslaying, crippled hands of your lover. Or rather, the one you haven't cut off when you were too weak to break a single shackle, that is."

  Findekáno still did not give the bastard the satisfaction of an answer. He hadn't addressed the maia a single time since they'd taken him and very carefully avoided even regarding that black-clad, delicate shape with more than a fleeting glance from the corner of his eyes. It was better, not staring into those flaming eyes for too long, Maitimo had used to tell him, for you never knew what might stare back at – into – you. Besides, he was too busy, trying not to throw up when his torturer yanked the head of that elf who was firmly chained to a narrow wooden table, to the side by his red-matted blond hair, catching the streams of blood from the victim's mouth in that same bowl before handing it to one of the orcs without even looking twice, leaving the delightedly screeching creatures to fight over their breakfast. Once more, Findekáno wished he could have told the elf – his captain – that it would be over soon, at least, but judging by the last three scenes of this kind he'd already had to watch, chained to a chair of metal himself in a way that left no inch of a room to try and free himself, that would have been a blatant lie.

  Sauron hated being distracted by too much talk when he was working but he very much enjoyed hearing his victims scream, that was all. So this was always how he started. "Let's see if we can get a little more fight out of this one, shall we? It would be a shame if you had to do without the leader of your escort once you'll promise yourself to the Lord of this world."

  The Never was on the tip of Findekáno's tongue, but it never came, and maybe not only because he refused to acknowledge the numbing poison that was Sauron's words with anything but a blank stare. It was hard, holding on to resistance when you had to watch your enemy reach for a diamond-sharp knife and put a first clean, deep cut to his newest victim's body, right around the wrist, in front of the broad shackle holding the captain's arm in place, and then start to peel off the first layers of skin inch by inch, finger by finger, more patches of flesh and skin carelessly thrown towards the drooling audience. It was a mercy, one that Findekáno shouldn't be half as thankful for as he was, that the elf's voice was soon too sore from screaming to produce more than a hoarse noises, hardly even able to drown out the mirthful whistling on Sauron's lips that was a most basic healing spell to keep blood loss and infections at bay. And it was an irony that wasn't lost to Findekáno, that he'd spent almost two years, trying to convince his husband that he had no reason to hate himself for what he'd seen and been forced to do during his own captivity, and that he could feel the same blackness of loathing wash over his own soul now; thick acid trying to bury every memory of light and love and friendship especially to these people he had to see suffer right in front of his eyes, maybe never to be revived. It was far easier to believe in innocence when you weren't the one watching silently. That heaviness of shock and any missing rest for days, that had started to take hold of his soul, was spreading, creeping over his skin in droves and leaving it numb, so that he did not realize, there were tears rolling down his cheeks, until Sauron was suddenly standing right in front of his chair and grabbed his cheek to slowly lick the salt off his face with his forked tongue, laying hands on him for the first time. The nausea grew instantly, a gagging sitting in the back of Findekáno's throat that he didn't want to let his enemy hear either, so he just jerked his head away and bit his tongue bloody to keep silent.

  "You taste sweeter than your lover, little Princeling," Sauron murmured huskily, blood-covered, spidery hands brushing through Findekáno's messy hair. "You might want to rethink your priorities. You could have a life so much better by my side than being the useless son of a lesser King. The only thing you're doing right now is hurting everyone in this room." Findekáno's ongoing silence seemed to be loud enough, because he backed away with a shrug. Ridiculously gentle for what he'd been doing to every of Findekáno's soldiers for a few days now, he tugged two of the golden ribbons from his braids and went back to his current victim. After handing his minions another bowl full of red to slurp that had been filled by that skinned hand of a barely conscious elf in the last few minutes, he wrapped the ribbon around the mess of twitching, bared muscle and pressed the captain's wrist down against the table with his elbow while reaching for a long nail and a hammer. "Now, now." An admonishing noise came from Sauron's cherry-red lips when Findekáno turned his head away, unable to stand the sight of that nail being pressed right in the middle of that ruined palm, with only the fabric of the ribbon between, the sight of a usually so proud, brave warrior arching up against his chains in fear. "Is that a way to honor your people's sacrifice for you, Your Highness? You won't even look at them while they're suffering for you?"

  A sob that he could no longer hold back came from Findekáno's lips but could never make it past the echo of the new, broken scream from one of his oldest friends when the hammer drove the nail through his flesh in a single strike.

  It didn't last long, because the elf had finally blacked out which didn't stop Sauron from repeating the same cruel process on the other arm so that his victim came to even more inhuman pain. With the second nail in place, the chains were no longer necessary to hold that marred, infection-weakened, writhing body in place as Morgoth's butcher reached for his knife once more. "Did you know, my precious Prince," he said calmly while he put the blood-smeared tip to the elf's left side, right under the ribcage, "there's at least four organs a Firstborn body can survive without? And a dozen others of which you can take at least half away before you need to sing the rest back together to function? You should know. I've fed a couple of your husband's parts to my wolves. I think they might get some more elvish dinner tonight." The knife started to cut. With a disgusting, meaty sound, a mess of red and yellow was dropped in a bucket below the table.

  But this time, it wasn't the captain's scream that filled the room the loudest but a sound Findekáno hadn't known he was about to make before it came, his resolve shattered into pieces.

  "What was that?" Now it was Sauron, not even looking up but reaching for needle and thread instead to close the crude cut he'd just made before his victim could bleed out on him. "Anything you want, my precious Princeling? All you have to do is ask, you know."

  "Please." This time, the word came quietly, but clear and unmistakable. Apparently, after all this time that Findekáno had thought he would be the rock in their relationship, had to be, because Maitimo didn't have the strength anymore, it was time to admit, that his husband had been the stronger one between them from the start. Perhaps, when it came to it, if Findekáno would only ever leave this fortress again an enemy of his own people, no longer the master of his own mind and thoughts and will, his husband would even be strong enough to kill him before Findekáno could beat him to it. "Stop. If it is me you want, release my people."

  "Is that an order, Your Highness?" Wholly unimpressed, Sauron moved to his victim's other side and caressed the quickly, panicked heaving chest with just the tip of his knife, as if trying to make out the best spot to continue his gruesome work. "I do not need more food for my troops and beasts. I need a servant loyal to me and my master. Is that what you want, Prince of the Noldor? To serve the Dark Lord?"

  "Yes." It became easier, Findekáno found dully, once you had given in to your fate. He did not even shy away from that triumphing, flickering stare of his enemy any longer. Maybe it would hurt less if he let himself fall for it quickly.

  "Yes, what?" His hand wandering lower, Sauron thrust his knife deeply into his victim's loins, spearing a kidney, impatiently wiping blood of his cheek, both from the new horrible wound and from the captain's mangled hand, from its useless, mindless attempt of freeing itself from the nail crucifying it.

  "Yes. Master." Findekáno never lowered his head. There was no use, trying to look away now.

  "Better. We're getting there." Sauron just left his tool right where it was, impaling his victim's body in a third place, and went to the back of a room to open a silver box with the symbol of his eye on it that had been waiting there from the first hour on. A flash of gold and obsidian shone in the bright candle light as he slowly approached Findekáno, dangling from a lazy finger a broad collar with sharply carved tips at the top and the bottom. In the hand of a fire maia, the horrible adornment quickly started to heat, a dangerous orange glow matching the hair of Findekáno's torturer, pulsating right in front of his eyes when Sauron stopped by his chair and grabbed his chin, forcing him to surrender to that black stare again. "Ask for it, my sweet little pet, then I might think about allowing your incompetent captain over there to die."

  The last of tears dried on Findekáno's skin as he left a part of him behind that he knew would not return, no matter how his life would look from now on and for how long. I'm sorry, Russo. "Please, Master, put your collar on me. Let me serve you."

  "So easy." With a lazy snap of fingers, the chains holding Findekáno clicked open, allowing his knees to give out under him all by themselves when an ice-cold hand was wrapped around his braids, shoving him off the chair.

  He thought, he could fight, for a moment. But he'd also thought that when they had first brought him into this room, and the rest of that day, he'd spent watching fifty orcs raping one of his best friends to death, so that spark died down as quickly as it had come. It had been too late to fight the moment he'd let himself be foolishly raided from behind instead of securing the area well enough.

  "Your father should thank me that I'm taking the weakling that calls himself his firstborn from him," his enemy chuckled, a clear hint of arousal mixing into the purr of triumph in his voice as Findekáno winced and gasped for air, in vain, as the collar was closed around his neck. Melted into one by a single hummed tone, the heated metal was scorching his skin, the first exhausted attempts of breathing, of swallowing leaving marks and cuts on him. "This does look a lot prettier on you though than on your lover, my new favorite pet. Why don't you show me how you like to please him?" Under the approving cheers and leering of the orcs, laces were opened without haste. Thick, crooked hardness brushed Findekáno's tight lips, with ridges and barbs adorning the misshaped appendix that he knew he would soon feel somewhere entirely else and be forced to pretend and love it. If nothing else, at least Sauron was predictable.

  But Findekáno didn't move, not yet, ignoring that hand in his braids that was grabbing him harsher by the second. His eyes wandered to the table in the middle of the room that was dripping blood on the ground in a slowly growing pool.

  The sounds of searing agony from there still hadn't fallen silent.

  Sharp fingernails scratched over his cheek, prying his mouth open with ease, the first brutal bump of hardened flesh against the back of his throat cutting off any protest before it could come. "If you worry about him so much, I suggest, you hurry to please your master, pet. It's only up to you how much more your people will have to take before I let them go."

It was another lie, of course, but one, Findekáno thought, he could live with. None of his soldiers would leave this fortress alive. If he could keep Sauron's filthy paws off of them for the rest of what was their ruined life, he would, at least, have done something right in the mess that his life had become. Findekáno had given up.

#Sauron #fingon #sauron's lab #fanfiction #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

[mai-sau]

9, 19, 12, 14 for the Silmarillion asks!-outofangband

always a delight to see u @outofangband! tytyty for the asks, was very fun to think about :3c

answers under the cut!

9. What Age of Arda would you like to live in? 

First Age probably as its my fav age! i mean id probably specifically want to live in aman during the years of the trees when things are not going down the drain quite so spectacularly jkrsnkgjsngkjrsng i think it would be exciting to live in a time where the firstborn have just come into the world and are cooking up all these creations

19. You get to save one character from dying. What would they do instead? 

god. what a decision. im very torn between feanor or fingon. i wouldve loved to see what fresh chaos feanor had in store and how deeply that wouldve affected things from the get-go. i imagine he would be far less open to relinquishing the crown to fingolfin, and im very curious what would happen the longer he remained parted from the silmarils and how his relationships wouldve changed with his sons. and if mae still got captured, what mightve happened with feanor still in the picture? i think story-wise im just very interested in what happens when you toss feanor into the equation

fingon would be my hearts choice bc i just. he didnt get enough time. as high king and in general... and i wonder what wouldve happened had fingon remained king, and how this mightve affected the actions of the sons of feanor (esp maedhros) and relations with the other peoples of middle earth

12. You can save one kingdom from destruction, which do you choose? 

id have to say eregion. the possibility for better ongoing dwarf-elf relations is very very interesting, not to mention the possibility for better chances against sauron. i mean the gwaith-i-mirdain had some brilliant minds, and celebrimbor? a ringmaker? i mean, he's saurons biggest competition crafting-wise imo - saurons greatest and most terrible creation was, at the end of the day, a combined effort. the aid eregion couldve provided in the fight against sauron had it not fallen, the diplomatic sway it couldve had between dwarves and elves. 

also, the DRAMA. everyone else potentially blaming them for sauron's new surge of power? celebrimbor surviving and going at it with his ex-turned-mortal-enemy? the shame of, despite trying so so hard, being another feanorian that fucked up? and the internal conflict of it being that commitment to make a change and break his family's legacy of mistrust and violence being the very thing that led him here, inadvertently helping one of their greatest enemies? yes please 

14. Saddest moment in The Silmarillion? 

The last we see of Maedhros and Maglor always breaks my heart. That both of them are confronted with the undeniable, painful proof that their choices have left them stained and, in their own ways, decide that the world is better off without them. Two eldest siblings who outlived every little brother, only to finally choose death and sorrowful exile, frozen in grief. The completion of the oath and casting away of the bitterly sought-after Silmarils, either by bringing it to the fiery grave or throwing it to the sea. it feels so futile and momentous and poetic and so fucking sad. GOD every part of this moment just. oozes tragedy to me.

#tyyyy for the asks!! i loved thinking about these #outofangband #ask game

[theelvenhaven]

Dating Maedhros

Valinor

- While in Valinor, Maedhros is much more lighthearted and carefree

- He’s happy and fun, and while he’s not mischievous, he will still find ways for you both to have a wonderful time.

- Be it you both spend copious amounts of time riding, at social gatherings such as parties, and hanging out with cousins and his brothers.

- Maedhros also has wonderful patience, especially considering he helped his parents with his siblings.

- He can handle anything you throw his way, no matter how angry or sad you might be (or annoying you decide to be.)

- He’s also a bit of a sucker for propriety and rules, unless you are wanting to prank his brothers, anticipate a small lecture and him talking you out of breaking rules.

- With as skilled a swordsman as Maedhros is, if you ask him he will happily teach you how to wield a sword.

- In fact it’s one of his favorite things to do with you. He will take his time making sure you understand everything he is teaching you, wanting you to be as skilled as he.

- Maedhros’ main love languages would be physical touch and quality time.

- Being a whopping 8ft tall, he loves how small you are and is always in awe of you.

- He loves giving affection as much as receiving it.

- He adores when you slip your small hand into his massive one, or when you sit in his lap. Easily he can keep working while you lounge against him.

- Because of the height difference everything you do is 10xs more adorable. This brings me to the fic “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

- You. Are. Adorable. Angry. He cannot help fawning over you, as aggravating as it might be. It’s even cuter when you are standing up for yourself.

- Even if you are not married anticipate serious talks of starting a family. Even for the far future.

- Maedhros loves kids and kids love him, and he will speak with plenty of hope and excitement at the prospect.

- Most importantly anticipate for the WHOLE family to get involved in your relationship with Maedhros.

- Especially Fingon. All of the cousins and brothers are extremely close knit, so it’s almost like you’re in a relationship with them too.

Post Angband

- Post Angband Maedhros is going to be almost a complete cold opposite of his Valinor self.

- He’s going to be struggling horribly with PTSD, disassociation, depression and extremely low self esteem.

- Do not anticipate for him to even mention what may have happened, even asking about scars are prohibited.

- It’s too triggering to bring up and he doesn’t want to risk you being ashamed of him. Especially if he has a flashback or breaks down over it.

- His love languages change drastically after his time at Angband and I think they’d change to Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation.

- At first as desperately as he wants to feel your soft hands run across his skin once more, in the same breath it brings up too many awful feelings.

- So you will have to have extreme patience. You don’t know what torture has been used against him especially at the hands of Sauron and Morgoth.

- He doesn’t do well with giving words of affirmation, especially to himself with all the degradation, but he does love to hear them the good things you say.

- It’s so refreshing and emotional to hear after hearing horrific things about himself for so long.

- And though he doesn’t know how to show you he loves you anymore, especially at first, instead he will do things for you. Works gotten to be too much? “I’ll handle it.” You need to get letters written to be sent out? “I will get it taken care of”.

- You will have to be very careful about letting him do this, because this is also how Maedhros escapes the intrusive thoughts. And he will work himself to the bone if you do not stop him.

- Nightmares will be constant but they’ll be less explosive the more time goes on. Expect many nights of waking with him, and even then he will try and comfort you.

- He’s not very willing to give up any control but he will relent to some things. Like you staying up with him until he falls back to sleep.

- Maedhros eventually starts to let you touch him again, and at first he hates that your fingers find scars at every turn.

- The first time you tell him that you don’t care, that you still love him as he is, he shuts down.

- He doesn’t know how to process how good it makes him feel, and crying in front of you is the last thing he wants to do.

- Once he does get a better handle on everything, he becomes a little more willing to initiate affection. But anticipate it happening in fluctuations, it’ll never be consistent.

- Some of it brings up a new set of problems as he’s become far more observant than he used to be.

- A good example is with how he used to love how little you are, now it’s a point of anxiety. You’re easy to make off with, anything that revolves you leaving Himring for any reason is bound to cause a fight especially if he can’t go.

- Talking about your future family is no longer on the table. Maedhros doesn’t even want to entertain the idea between the oath and with how damaged he feels he is.

- There are still some small things that bring out some of his old self such as;

- You being inventively angry with him and trying to level with him.

- Having actual time to spend time alone together outside.

- Him laying his head partially on your chest while you read to him or you sitting in his lap.

- And spending time with you and Fingon make him feel a little more at ease.

* * *

@fusrobruh

#sons of feanor #feanorian #theelvenhaven #jrr tolkien #tolkien #maedhros x reader #maedhros the tall #maedhros #maitimo #russandol #the silm #the silmarillion #silm #silmarillion #fluff #headcanons #headcanon #valinor #angband

[onthesandsofdreams]

Love Struck Prince

Fandom: The Silmarillion Pairing: Fingon x Erestor Rating: T Summary: Fingon, had no trouble admitting that, he had a crush. Well, truth be told, he was more than a little in love with his head librarian and advisor. Words: 1465 Notes: Written for fictober-event,  prompts #9 “will you look at this?” & #30 "just say it"

Read @ AO3

Fingon, had no trouble admitting that, he had a crush. Well, truth be told, he was more than a little in love with his head librarian and advisor.

Erestor, was a very handsome elf, in his own – perhaps not so humble – opinion. Tall, blackest hair he’d ever seen, warm green eyes that looked like new leaves under the summer sun, noble face and smarter than just, well, most everyone. Possibly including himself. Voice warm, like crushed velvet. He didn’t dare to think of how he’d look without the dark robes he usually wore. And he was very aware that his crush had developed at first sight. And now, with the few - very formal meetings they had held, that crush was growing.

Problem was, that for all his so called ‘bravery’, he had no idea on how to approach him. He was a warrior, prone to adventures, he liked to hunt and spar and ride in the early mornings. Erestor was simply his opposite. Yes, he was aware that Erestor was a fine shot, but the advisor preferred indoor activities.

He also didn’t know if Erestor preferred ellyn or ellith.

They were cordial, but their relationship was strictly professional. After all, Erestor was newly arrived to Dor-Lómin, his father had sent him over, with a letter saying that Erestor would be a fine addition to his council chamber and library.

He had thought, long and hard as how to approach Erestor, and so far, he had not succeeded. He closed his eyes, swirling his wine before taking a mouthful. Erestor liked books, that was a given, so perhaps he could start from there…? Maybe forging a friendship based on books would be a good way to start. But what if he… Yes, that would do just fine.

Grinning madly, he finished his wine and hoped that Erestor wasn’t at the library at the moment. He didn’t run, that would be undignified, but he rushed towards the library. His luck held true, for once when he arrived, the whole place was empty. He closed the door, making sure there was no one around or outside.

Once he finished his work, he left and waited near a corner, hidden. A short while later, Erestor came into view and so, he left his hiding spot and made it look like he was going to the library. “Evening, Erestor.”

Erestor, bowed, “Good eve, my Prince.”

He beat Erestor to the door, opened and crossed the threshold, then stopped. He nearly felt Erestor bump against him. Feigning surprise, he turned, “Will you look at this?”

Erestor peaked above one of his shoulders, jaw dropping a bit before he regained his wits. “Dear Elbereth. Who…?”

He walked in, Erestor close behind him. The library, was, in few words a mess. The first four bookcases had been tipped over and the books had spilled all over the floor. The bookcases laid atop them. He sighed. “I think,” he said. “It’s better we fix this.”

Erestor, looked at him surprised. “There is no need, my Prince. I can manage on my own. Or if you would, perhaps you could send for two of the junior librarians, we could have this fixed in no time.”

He waved a hand at Erestor, “There’s no need, I am not going to bed soon. Just tell me where everything goes and we’ll have everything in order in no time.” He quickly lifted the bookcases, then he knelt and began picking up books, looking over the spines and holding some beneath his arm. “Come, let us get to work.”

Erestor watched him wearily, then sighed and nodded. “If you’re certain.”

“I am.” He looked up and gave Erestor, what he hoped was a dazzling smile. “Poetry, those go where?”

Erestor approached, crouched low and began to pick books himself. “Second bookcase, the one labeled 4-B.” Erestor looked at him, so he did the only thing he could, he smiled again.

“So, tell me about yourself Erestor, I’m afraid I don’t quite know much about you.” What a lie that was, as if he hadn’t observed Erestor like a hawk to prey. As if he hadn’t made discreet inquires around. Oh well, Erestor didn’t need to know that. “How are you liking Dor-Lómin.”

The look that Erestor gave him was one that seemed to say, that he’d grown a second head. But still, Erestor did answer, “I was born in Hithlum, my parents still work for High King Fingolfin. My father’s a soldier, my mother a librarian,” there, Erestor’s whole face softened. “I inherited my love for books from her, my father says.” He shook his head as he placed a book in it right spot. “My life is not very exciting your Majesty, but I appreciate the inquiry. However, I will say, that I quite Dor-Lómin more than Hithlum.”

He beamed, “Nonsense, Erestor! I quite like learning about my people, and you’re one of mine now. Is it not my duty to know about it?”

“Well, yes,” Erestor conceaded. “I just – well, I don’t think I’m very interesting.”

He shook his head, “None of that. Now, uh, where does botany go?”

Erestor gave him a tiny smile, “2-A, your majesty.”

And so, they spent more than two hours placing books in their rightful place, talking and sharing little stories and by the time they were done, he was sure that Erestor would be more talkative with him now. Hopefully, something would come out of that.

It did, but it had taken them quite a few years. Erestor, at first reluctant and disbelieving, did his best to dissuade him, but he was nothing if not undeterred and stubborn. He wooed Erestor slowly, with care and the utmost patience, a strange thing for him – seeing as he didn’t have much patience to begin with, but he did. In the end, he managed to convince Erestor to give him a chance. From then on, it was smooth sailing. Well, mostly. They were discreet in their love, for even without needing to be told, he knew that many would scorn and do their best to try and have him set Erestor aside. A king needed heirs, he knew they would argue. Erestor took it all with surprising calm, understood what being in a relationship with a king meant for both of them and, with all the wisdom that he had grown to know from Erestor, he simply stated that Kings didn’t have much freedom.

Their love grew and was a steady, it was his calm and steady refuge against Morgoth’s ever looming darkness. It lasted until his death. And beyond, for he woke in the lands of his birth with Erestor’s name upon his lips. He knew that one day, Erestor would come and join him. So he waited.

It took millennia, but the day arrived when Erestor, alongside his great-grand-nephew Elrond’s ship finally docked in Tol Eressëa. He kept as much dignity as he could, but that didn’t prevent him from enveloping Erestor in a bone crushing hug.

“I missed you,” he whispered against his lover’s ear. “Welcome home.”

Erestor looked the same, only his eyes were deeper and keen with age. But he was smiling, with the same smile that he had given him in their private moments alone. One reserved only for him, one that he hoarded like a dragon would.

“It’s good to be home, beloved.”

“Come, I’m staying in a lovely cottage. Bring your things, then, when you have rested and regained your land legs, we can go home. Our home.”

Erestor feign shock, “Fingon, people will talk!”

“Let them, I don’t care. Not anymore. I’m not letting you, ever.”

“Greedy dragon.”

“For you? Aye, I am.”

Erestor gave him a look of fond exasperation. “Come on then, let us go to this cottage you speak of. My things will come later.”

Hand in hand, they made their way towards the home he had rented. He had already prepared a meal, it was only a question of reheating it. Erestor could bathe while he did.

It was much later, when they had been laying in bed in the dark, that he had spoken. Softly and carefully, as if confessing a terribly sin. “I have something to tell you.”

“Go on, love.”

“Well, it’s a bit awkward for me, you see.”

“Fingon, just say it.”

He swallowed. “It was me who messed the library that night in Dor-Lómin.”

Erestor snorted. “You’re lucky I love you. Sleep well my love.”

“Wait, you’re not angry?”

“My love? I already knew.”

“How in Man…”

He wasn’t able to finish, for his mouth was suddenly captured in fierce kiss. “I have my ways. Good night beloved.”

He only managed to squeak, “Night.” All was well, they were home and now, they had forever.

#fictober20 #fingon x erestor #fingon #erestor #the silmarillion fic #the silmarillion

[arofili]

saved post, ignore this

(don’t reblog this)

Smut4Smut Prompts

I didn’t intend to write an actual letter, I just wanted to paste my prompts into the description box for this exchange, but then I got long-winded (as usual) so here are the prompts that were too long for AO3 to handle! If the prompts did fit into the box they’re not going to be here, and I am not restating my DNWs/Likes/etc; that’s all readily available in my AO3 signup.

~~~

Canon Russingon Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

This is my “Russingon in canon” request, though if you’ve got a canon divergence AU, be my guest.

BDSM - A doms B into being nicer to/taking better care of themself: This just screams Russingon to me. Maedhros asking for Fingon to be cruel to him and Fingon using kindness as the greatest cruelty because Maedhros hates himself so much...

Character Bottoms Who Normally Tops, Character Tops Who Normally Bottoms, Role Reversal: I’m a sucker for role reversal, especially with these two. I lean toward Maedhros bottoming more often than not, but however you prefer their dynamic is completely fine.

Can't Stop Thinking About It - A Accidentally Sees B Naked, Can't Stop Thinking About It - A Hears B Masturbating and Moaning A's Name: I think I’ve written both of these scenarios for these two but I would LOVE to read another take on them! Mutual pining in Valinor? :)

Characters mutually pining finally get together and have amazing sex, Filthy Sex With Feelings,: I just love this in general, and Russingon having filthy but extremely loving sex is my very favorite thing <3

Characters Experiment With Sexy New Ways To Use Detachable Body Parts: Maedhros’ prosthetic. Enough said.

Characters React To In-Universe Smut Written About Them: Listen, someone has GOT to have written some Russingon smut in-canon, that’s just statistically likely. The sillier and less accurate it is, the better, especially if it’s countered with them having the kind of sex they prefer in...protest? Or maybe trying out some of the dumb things, lol.

Cock Slut, Slut Praising: bottom!Maedhros tbh.

Crown kink, Fealty, Throne Sex: The “Fealty Kink” tag is literally half Silm fics, and half of those are Russingon fics. Add some more?

Dom/sub - not 24/7 but reflecting RL power roles: Very much related to the above. Liege/vassal kink? Yes please!

Domesticity - Sex In Bed Before Sleep: Just. Soft married Russingon. ;-;

Devotion: THEY JUST LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND WOULD (AND DO) DIE FOR EACH OTHER. AHHH.

First Time: I am SUCH a sucker for first times. Could be their first time together at all, or their first time doing a specific sexual act, or their first time in a certain situation (post-Angband, post-rebirth, etc...)

Getting Together: Another thing I really really love in almost any form, especially if there’s been mutual pining before this.

Fluff and Smut: Russingon just loving each other SO DAMN MUCH...bonus points if there’s some baby Gil-galad fluff involved before/after the sexytimes?

Hurt/Comfort Sex: Their lives are so depressing that there’s so many times this could apply. Right before Formenos? Right after the Darkening or the First Kinslaying? Post-Angband/Ice? Post-Bragollach? Or any other time things get angsty (aka all of canon)?

Magic - using telepathy to cause other person to orgasm: Soul bonds. Dom Fingon. Yes please.

Morning After (Incredible Sex the night before): Fluffy good times. Maybe after their first time, back in Valinor?

Mutual Masturbation With Intent to Watch Each Other in Lieu of First Time Sex: Another fic I have definitely written before but would LOVE to see again! This would make the most sense in a LaCE context, I think.

Mutual Pining: I’ve mentioned this a billion times already, you get the idea.

Praise Kink: Maedhros has a praise kink, that’s just canon. This can be fun and slightly embarrassing in Valinor...or really intensely emotional post Angband. Or post-rebirth...oof.

Pregnancy - Sex to Conceive Heir: Just where DID Gil-galad come from, hmmm? (Trans mpreg is wonderful; I’m not interested in cis mpreg. Either one of them could be trans, I enjoy both.)

Reunion Sex: They’re basically in an LDR in Beleriand, give me some Fingon visiting Himring or Maedhros visiting Dor-lómin and just how horny and desperate they are for each other after being separated for awhile.

Scar Worship: Finno post-Angband finding Mae’s scars Extremely Sexy?

Secret relationship between members of feuding families: This is literally just canon. Lean into the Romeo and Juliet style Valinor shenanigans!

Sex After Taking Revenge on Someone Who Wronged Their Partner: Husbands who murder orcs together and then fuck while still all nasty from battle :)))

Sex Toys - Character Fucks Themselves on a Dildo While Performing Oral Sex: I just think Mae giving Finno a blowjob and fucking himself at the same time would be really hot, okay?

Size - Size Difference: I do love bottom!Maedhros, but I also love size queen!Fingon, and I think they both really enjoy the size difference :))

thank god you're/we're alive sex: I bet this happened SO many times after battles in Beleriand. This could also apply to right after the Darkening, and would be just HEARTRENDING right after the First Kinslaying...

Soul Bond - Sharing Physical Pleasure Through Soul Bond: I am very fond of this trope! Also like. Them feeling how much they are loved through each other’s eyes. Ahhh. But also like, Mae getting off on how good he’s making Finno feel. Or vice versa.

Character A hurts Character B (at their request) during sex but Character A immediately regrets it, Character Thinks Rescue Has a Price Tag, Sex gets paused to deal with PTSD then maybe returned to, panic attack during sex: These are some angstier options! I would love a fluffy/happy story (or a hurt/comfort story) but if you wanted to go a bit darker route here’s some ideas. Just. Post-Angband Mae with no self worth and/or consent issues, Finno having a hard time dealing with Mae being masochistic, Mae flashing back to Angband...all of these are some really juicy ideas.

~~~

Modern Russingon Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

This is my “Modern AU Russingon” request - though if you see a tag here that you think could be applied to canon, that would be awesome too.

Trans Male Character: Lots of these tags would have at least one of them being trans, which I’m also super happy to see in canon-compliant fic, but I know for me it feels a bit easier to me to write about trans stuff when I don’t have to worry about terminology not fitting the setting, so I put them here.

Cunnilingus to relieve period cramps, PiV With Trans Male Character, Sex Toys - Character Fucks Themselves on a Dildo While Performing Oral Sex, Sex Toys - Giving a Blowjob to a Dildo or Strap-on, Sex Toys - Strap-On: Just all some very excellent stuff if you want to go the trans route. I imagine the strap game would be next level with these two.

Characters mutually pining finally get together and have amazing sex, Filthy Sex With Feelings, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Morning After (Incredible Sex the night before), Mutual Pining, Praise Kink, Size - Size Difference: I requested all these tags for the canon prompt too, this is just the same stuff but modern, where they get to be dorky about how much they’re in love, minus most of the angst.

Character with Low Self-Esteem has Self-Worth Affirmed Through Tender Sex: ...but not minus ALL the angst. Just. Mae having had bad experiences in previous relationships and Finno being extremely tender and loving to him, AHHHH.

Getting off on how much partner trusts them: And this could be the other side of the previous request - Mae is trusting Finno even after all the bad stuff he went through and that’s very sexy to him.

Good Boy/Good Girl Kink: This could apply in canon too but if you want to do the trans thing, it could also be a gender affirmation thing.

Impact - Friendly ass slap unexpectedly turns character on: Mae is mortified that he’s into spanking, Finno is delighted.

romantic sex: This didn’t fit into the previous request but YES PLEASE. Just. They love each other SO much.

~~~

Russurgon Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

OKAY wow I love this ship, it’s so incredibly fucked up and angsty, hell yeah. This is one request where you really don’t need to bother with anything fluffy or a happy-ish ending, just go full on angst mode, please! Basically, I just think it would be very fun and horrible if Mae seduced Turgon for political reasons post-Nírnaeth when they’re both grieving Fingon :)))))

Character Bottoms Who Normally Tops: I can see Turgon having a hangup about bottoming...which Mae is fine with but one day they get into a Very bad argument and Mae like, puts Turno in his place. (No non-con though. Dub-con would be okay here.)

Characters about to kill each other decide to fuck instead: Kinslaying averted by sex!

Dirty Talk - Character A Gets Off on B Relaying Their Sexual Exploits: Just. Mae growling in Turno’s ear all the filthy things he would do with Fingon and Turgon HATING it and especially hating how hot it is.

Enemies to enemies who fuck, Enemies With Benefits, Frenemies with Benefits, sex between enemies, Sex between rivals: Basically all the same thing. These guys do NOT like each other but they’re fucking anyway.

Fucked with the hilt of a weapon: Look idk man just. Turgon being really mean to Maedhros after a post-battle argument or something?

Grudging/Horrified One-Sided Attraction To Someone Who Annoys You Deeply: I think this would be funny if Turgon realized he was into Mae (honestly, at any point in time, not just post-Nirn?) and that maybe the reason he was so mad about Fingon dating Mae is because he was jealous...lmaooo

Hate Sex Turns Unexpectedly Tender: Like. A moment of understanding between them. That they both refuse to talk about after it happens.

lord/retainer, Political Alliance Confirmed with Sex, Political Debate as Foreplay, Sex as a Negotiation Tactic, Sex As Part Of Diplomatic Negotiations: POLITICAL SEX. It’s showing that they’re serious about this alliance...nothing else, just that...right?

sex as self harm, Sex as Unhealthy Coping Mechanism, Sex as Grief Processing: This could work for both of them but I think it especially works for Maedhros. He unlearned a lot of fucked up shit with Fingon after Angband, but now Fingon’s dead and it’s all coming crashing back down on him...and Turgon hates him so much that if he can tell, he doesn’t care.

A using B as replacement for C who is not present: This is exactly why Mae would fuck Fingon’s brother.

~~~

Anairë/Fëanor/Fingolfin/Nerdanel Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

OKAY so I don’t like sibling incest EXCEPT for Fëanor/Fingolfin, pretty much, just because the love-hate stuff with them is SO juicy. But I also hate how most FëaNolo fics depict their relationships with their wives, so I would just love it if they were all a polycule or had a foursome or something that didn’t end up with Fëanor and Fingolfin leaving their wives.

Bisexuality: They’re all very hot and they’re all very into each other. Gender who?

Breeding Kink - as dirty talk without risk: Look Fëanor and Nerdanel had SEVEN kids, I think there was probably some kind of breeding kink there...Fëanor applying this to Fingolfin, though? That’s hot. Or maybe he’s dirty talking with Anairë while Fingolfin is Right There.....yesss. But again, no risk, because elf pregnancy is always very intentional.

Character A and Character B Mutually Pine For Each Other While They Fuck Other People Together: Fëanor and Fingolfin just absolutely refusing to acknowledge their feelings even when they’re having sex with each other’s wives.

Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration - Vaginal and Anal, Double Vaginal Penetration: I just think it’s hot. You can mix up who’s penetrating who, give the ladies some strap-ons or mess around with gender, if you like.

First Time - Getting Pegged: Fëanorians get pegged, it is law, so probably not Fëanor’s first time but... Nerdanel pegging Fingolfin? Or Fëanor and Nerdanel showing Fingolfin and Anairë how it’s done? OR since let’s be real Fingolfin ALSO probably gets pegged regularly, Anairë and Nerdanel fucking each other while their husbands watch, and it’s their first time with another lady.

First Time Having Sex Postpartum: I imagine Nerdanel is unfazed by what pregnancy does to the body, but maybe Anairë isn’t, and her lovers all get together to show her how much they still love her after like, Argon is born?

Fucking Someone While Being Fucked By Someone Else: All the fun things you can do with multiple partners...

Grudging/Horrified One-Sided Attraction To Someone Who Annoys You Deeply: I must admit I missed the “one-sided” part of this when I picked this tag - but maybe they think it’s one-sided but it turns out that it’s not? Regardless, this is exactly how I see Fëanor and Fingolfin if they’re in a ship situation.

Sexy Shenanigans at a Masked Ball: Anonymity allowing a secret relationship to be slightly less secret!! Everyone is like “wow who is that tall fellow dancing with Prince Fëanáro?” or something like that!

~~~

Taeglin Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

Now this is my rarepair that I completely understand why it’s a rarepair, but also like MATCHING CURSED SWORDS. I generally think of this ship in the context of a “Túrin goes to Gondolin with Tuor” AU, BUT it could also be a “Aredhel and Maeglin go to Himlad, and then follow Celegorm and Curufin to Nargothrond and stay after they get banished” AU, but that’s a bit more convoluted. Or you can have them meet each other on one of Maeglin’s journeys away from Gondolin, or whatever other take you’d like to explore.

Both parties are pining for someone else: Túrin missing Beleg? Or both of them being in love with Idril and upset about her choosing Tuor instead, lol.

In Captivity Together, Bad guys think they made them do it but they really just enabled them: Túrin gets captured alongside Maeglin...or maybe Maeglin gets captured earlier, at the same time Túrin is after Amon Rûdh? (In that case it would probably just be “Bad guys made them do it” without the qualifier because they haven’t had the chance to Pine.) Basically, they finally have an excuse to fuck, and it’s not ideal, but hey they’re gonna take it.

Realizing romantic feelings mid-sex: “Oh FUCK I actually like this guy. Shit. Goddamnit.”

Mating Cycles/In Heat: Maybe heats are an elf thing, and Túrin remembers how Beleg would get, so he knows how to help Maeglin...and it’s not like Maeglin was going to ask anybody for help, he was just planning on suffering through it (again?)...

~~~

eta: an anon asked about smut likes and i was like oops i didn’t make that list so here’s some stuff i enjoy. otherwise just see the kink tags i requested

anal sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (basic but yknow)

fingering

frottage

very romantic sex (especially for russingon)

nonromantic sex (i like aro takes on characters)

trans characters whose gender is affirmed during sex

trans characters without much physical dysphoria

reunion sex

first times!!

hurt/comfort sex

political sex

fealty kink, liege/vassal dynamic

mutual masturbation

double penetration

russingon stumpfucking

dirty talk

healing from trauma through tender sex

dealing with trauma through rough sex

teasing, begging

dramatic miscommunications that get cleared up (such as mutual pining, very brief worries about consent, etc)

praise kink (especially for maedhros)

size kink (especially for fingon)

telepathy/osanwe

dom fingon/sub maedhros

hair kink

possessiveness but ONLY for russingon

sharing a bed

maedhros getting spanked......

role reversal, switching

#tmi anna #exchange letter