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outofangband · 2 years

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Falathrim World Building Introduction (First Age Prior to the Isle of Balar)

(Noldor, Teleri, Vanyar, Sindar of Doriath)

I did some introductions to world building for the three main cultures of the Eldar in Valinor and the Sindar of Doriath and I want to write more for those but I also wanted to do the other kindreds so here’s part one for my Falathrim World Building

Here are some more general world building headcanons (architecture/homes, governance, etc) Please feel free to ask more!! I’d love to expand on food, environment, flora and fauna, etc

Please feel free to ask more!! General posts are hard because I didn’t have specific categories to cover so feel free to send categories! I also included some similarities and differences with the Teleri in Valinor

The Falathrim lived on the coasts of Western Beleriand where they were persuaded to stay by Ossë. They lived at the Havens of the Falas at the mouths of two rivers, Nenning and Brithon. There were two Havens, Brithombar and Eglarest, walled cities that lasted until the Fifth Battle where the surviving Falathrim moved West to the Isle of Balar

Círdan is considered an authority and leader despite never being officially appointed. The Falathrim of Beleriand do start out with a less formal system of rule than their kin in Valinor. As time goes on a more formal system of governance does emerge with appointed roles. Much is decided communally

The houses and structures were made of sandstone, clay and wood with imported stone from their allies utilized in the reconstruction after damage during the First battle of Beleriand. Tufa and limestone were also used in the walls, towers, and fortification

Sand ryegrass is also used in more temporary homes as well as baskets and nets.

In the Eastern reaches of their land, sheep were kept for wool and thus fabric (as well as milk). They were originally traded for with the Sindar of Mithrim. Flax, nettle and other salt marsh plants are also used in clothing. Shells are used in jewelry and metal production is relatively rare outside weapons.

Clothing is generally made with practical uses being considered first but there is absolutely a distinct fashion among the Falathrim.

Shell and bone are also used for blades. Pearl blades are a particular treasure.

Pearls are highly favored by the Teleri and though prized by the Falathrim, they do not have the same place in their culture. See the differences at the bottom

Several of the archways at Brithonbar contains fossilized ammonites.

Map making, cartography including astrocartograpgy, and navigation are highly valued skills and trades. Ink is made from the berries of a few plants and from pigment made from rock with traces of iron. Quills are typically made from sea bird feathers

Like the Teleri, Falathrim children grow up with a respect and love for the water. Swimming, safety, and knowledge of plants and animals of the water and shores is taught from a very young age. Knot tying and rope and sail making using fibers and cloth is also widely taught. Boats are typically wooden with cloth sails.

Trade began with Nargothrond and their allies soon after the hidden city was constructed though Finrod and his smaller group of followers canonically aided them long before. Routes for travel were known to the Falathrim long before the return of the Noldor.

Fish make up a lot of their dishes along with sea and salt marsh vegetables like Salicornia and sea purslane. Methods of seasoning are similar to Telerin and Iathrim methods and tend to rely on herbal sauces and garnishes rather than spices. Shrimp and crab are eaten far more commonly than the Teleri.

Olives grow to the North and South of the Havens and are cultivated in groves along with lemons closer to Nevrast and orchard stone fruit South of Egalrest. White peaches are rarer and often traded from East of the Havens but are a favored treat.

Some primary differences with the Teleri of Valinor

Teleri: sheer fabrics primarily from traded silk and very light cotton flower, large communal homes, pearlescence, music and instrument making, elaborate gardens and water scapes

Falathrim: primarily linen from flax, common use of sand ryegrass, silver and pale metallic colors, smaller often temporary homes, cartography, epic poetry, more practical gardens, fossils

Similarities: limestone and sandstone architecture, similar community governance ideas (though Alqualondë has a king of course), herbal sauces and garnishes

#the silmarillion #círdan #beleriand #falathrim #falas #musing and meta

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hircinesanters · 1 year

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One Kiss (Miraak x LDB)

Hiii so I wrote a bit of a warmup (that turned out really long oops) about my Dumner LDB Falas, a priest of Mara who took a vow of chastity and Miraak having their first kissy kiss.

Tagging my mutual @argisthebulwark bc they wanted to read abt them if/when I did write abt them so

Also @maldov bc they love Falas :>

[NOT PROOFREAD]

It was late, and for one reason or another Falas couldn’t sleep. Usually after even the most stressful days he could sleep rather well after a few repeated prayers. But tonight seemed to be a different story.

Falas simply chalked it up to stress, but part of him knew it went much deeper. He knew, in the strange uncharted and repressed recesses of his mind…it was something else.

No, not something.

Someone.

He had decided to try and read to pass the time, but his gaze as well as his focus always found its way back to the small tent just a few feet away. Specifically upon the Altmoran who slept there. Miraak. His cheeks would redden if he looked too long, shame gripping him as he turned back to his dull reading. Sometime ago he decided to recite a prayer every time he looked.

The heart of Mara beats within my breast. Keep me and sustain me. Keep me and sustain me.

It was this quiet prayer that awoke Miraak. Falas hadn’t noticed just how loud and desperate the prayer had become. Not loud enough to wake Erandur or Lydia…but harsh enough to wake a man who had not slept in centuries. Falas’s ears twitched when he heard the rustling of furs, eyes bolting away and back down to “The Age Before Man.” But his hands were shaking, shaking with fear of being discovered. He didn’t know if he could handle Miraak’s teasing, he could feel his heart racing and his soul tug against his stomach. A fire in the pit of his stomach, a fire that hailed horns and wings and power that only something ancient could ever know. It stirred inside him whenever Miraak was near, stirred dangerously. It stirred away from Mara.

Once again he repeated the prayer, under his breath. All the while Miraak simply watched from his bedroll, not amused, not jeering, not even threatening. He just…watched him. Watched him with a concerned look Falas didn’t see.

When Falas opened his eyes, Miraak then frowned. His gaze seemingly annoyed.

“I do not believe watching me would defy your lady’s wishes.” His voice was just loud enough for Falas to hear.

Falas gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath. He must remain calm, he must allow the grace of Mara to flow through him. Let her warmth extend onto the world through him.

The Dunmer’s face placated, eyes serene with nothing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He answered, his voice was a bit more harsh than he would’ve liked.

“Nothing is wrong, I’m just reading a bit of history.”

“That is a lie and you know it, Dragonborn.”

He was already standing before Falas could muster up a response. He never minded being called Dragonborn, but when Miraak said it, it made them seem so distant. So formal and unfriendly, like they were still enemies.

But Falas could do nothing about it, and he deliberately averted his eyes when he caught a glimpse of his under tunic. Thin and barely covering his truly magnificent chest and broad shoulders. He had allowed himself to admit that Miraak was handsome, with constant reminders that his will and devotion to Mara was strong enough to make peace with the thought. But the dragon stirred nonetheless, and he felt that strangeness of their souls entangling around each other like vines. This pull, this…instinct. It was unlike any kind of feigning surface level attraction he had ever felt. Every moment around him was a battle within himself, and at times…his will had almost succumbed.

Still, he wished them to be friends. Dinya’s preachings of kindness and mercy echoing in his mind. It hurt him for Miraak to still be so hostile, but he understood. And there was no inner turmoil in his desire to help him in any way he could.

“I wish you wouldn’t say such things.” He said. “You know it hurts me.”

There was a truth in that, but only a partial one. The rest of it was that Miraak’s words, his banter, his accusations- they sparked something in him. It sparked up a pride he hadn’t ever felt since before he had been saved. His greatest sin Mara had said, was pride. It had taken decades to tame his ego, but he had done it all the same. But with Miraak, he could feel it puff out- becoming like that of the very thing his soul resembled. Haughty, selfish, cruel. But powerful, feared, ancient, beautiful. It took effort to remain true to himself when Miraak challenged him like this.

Miraak sighed, massaging his temples.

“Fine.” He sounded tired, too tired to fight.

Falas closed his book, pushing down the satisfaction that his submission rendered. He focused on his desire to help instead.

“Is there something you need?” He asked genuinely, already going to stand to assist.

Miraak shook his head, holding out his hand to stop him.

“No, no…” He ran a hand through his hair. “But, your company would be…appreciated.”

Falas couldn’t help but blush. Even if the request sounded rude, it made his heart warm all the same. Silently he thanked Mara for allowing this moment, and for the softness of Miraak.

He then gestured to the grass beside him.

“Please, feel free.”

Miraak sat down, the warmth of him radiating off onto Falas almost like a flame itself. It was still surprising how large Miraak was- even if Falas read of the differences between the Altmorans and Nords, it was a whole different affair to be in the presence of one; something he still wasn’t quite used to. His hands were practically the size of Falas’s face, and his body reminded him very much of the strength and prowess of the Gildergreen tree in the square of Whiterun. Looking at him was like staring right back into history itself, impossibly old- living and breathing history.

For a moment they simply sat there in silence, listening to the soft wind and rustle of the plains around them. Under the soft pale light of Secunda and Masser, the warmth and crackle of the fire. A rare moment of peace between the 2 Dragonborns.

“The stars have changed.” Miraak then remarked.

Falas glanced at him, following Miraak’s gaze to the sky. Countless stars twinkled back, The Warrior almost at its zenith.

“How so?” Falas asked, turning back to him.

Miraak pointed to The Warrior, brandishing its shield and axe tothem.

“In my time…” His voice faltered, as if the words seemed foreign.

“It has shifted forward. Now more to the left.”

Falas looked up again, squinting and tilting his head a bit as he tried to get a good look. But he couldn’t see it, The Warrior had always been the same to him. Their movements are constantly and carefully tracked by astronomers as well as farmers.

“I think that’s just our perspective here on the ground.” Falas comforted.

“Perhaps.” Miraak responded.

He then sighed once again, eyes falling to Falas. Trapping him almost in his gaze. The mer’s heart began to beat heavy and hard- uncomfortable now with what was to come.

The heart of Mara beats within my breast.

Miraak looked away for a moment, freeing Falas from his gaze finally. Like he had decided against speaking. Falas felt himself let out a breath of relief, turning back toward the fire.

“I do not wish to fight you anymore.” Miraak then said, he said.

“As do I.” Falas agreed.

Miraak huffed. Then shifted a bit where he sat, clearing his throat a little.

“But, I have something to ask of you.”

Falas immediately turned to him, already preparing to assist. But the look Miraak gave him sent a shiver up his spine. There was an untapped softness in them, a quiet yearning almost found in those strange green eyes. It was almost totally unfamiliar from the crudeness and haughty smirks he would usually regard him with. It felt vulnerable, and yet sinful all the same. It made him flush and struggle to look back, the war once again beginning to rage in him.

Keep me and sustain me.

“What is it?” He answered gently.

“Kiss me.”

Falas almost physically lurched backwards, gasping in both shock and horror. He wanted to cry and scream, scream for Mara for protection- for strength. For anything to make the dragon sleep again, to keep his thoughts pure- to keep his thoughts of her. To not stray from her guiding love and light, to not stay awake at night pondering Miraak’s flesh and lips and eyes and-

He couldn’t form any words, just shaking his head. He needed to go to bed, he needed to go to bed now. In the morning he would repent. In the morning this would have never happened.

But just when he went to stand, Miraak grabbed his hand. Tight enough to keep him from leaving but not pulling him back.

“Falas, hear me.”

It was so rare for Miraak to use his name. It made the priest’s heart race even faster, his soul tugging against him. It was as if half of him was tugging back toward him; his body, his soul, even his heart. But still he didn’t move, he didn’t turn.

“I implore you.” Miraak then urged.

Falas’s brown was knit tightly, facing away from Miraak he looked as if moments from crying. Crying in his defeat. If it would help him. If it would end the violence between them, heal Miraak and placate him enough…

Falas sat back down, not meeting his eyes.

“Why?” He asked.

Miraak scooted closer, thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“Because, it’s me,” He said quietly. “Because it’s your destiny.”

“Mara forgive me.” Falas whispered, almost in utter despair.

Miraak hushed him, his other hand gently pulling his chin up to look at him.

“Just one kiss, nunon gien, mal dovah.” His voice was intimate in ways Falas had never known, in ways that he should not know.

“Surely your lady would understand..”

But it was smooth, and he was warm, and inside him Falas felt the dragon pacify. He could not disagree, nor could he deny. Lady Mara would understand, she would…she must. Their souls were intertwined, tangled within each other- and until Falas found a way to untangle them, he had to do this.

Just one. Only one. Just this once.

“Alright.” Falas said, his voice shook. “But only one.”

Miraak nodded, the hand that was on his chin moving to his cheek.

“Nunon gien.” He repeated.

Slowly Miraak leaned in, Falas not pulling back as their lips met. Soft, pure as a white dove. But Falas found himself not letting go for a moment- not even when Miraak began to pull away. He preserved the moment longer than he should’ve, getting lost within his own sinful indulgence.

When they did pull away, Falas couldn’t look him in the eye- flustered and ashamed beyond anything. And quickly excused himself off to his tent to sleep. Tomorrow he would head to Whiterun to repent, and would ask for Mara’s mercy and help to guide him back to her path. He had failed her test of loyalty, and he would not rest until he had redeemed himself.

#tesblr #skyrim #the elder scrolls #tes v skyrim #tes v #skyrim oc #falas #skyrim npc #miraak #miraak x ldb #miraak x dragonborn #miraak x reader #skyrim fanfiction #my writing

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