#fingons-rad-harp

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

frank i am scared of you

This is why I hide, I'm going to become a vampire and turn you into a mouse

(I'm kidding)

(This is a joke)

#fingons-rad-harp

[wren-of-the-woods]

17 for cursed sandpiper au?

Ooh good question! I haven't worked on this one in a while because my other WIPs got long and started hogging my brain, but I can't wait to have the chance to get back to it!

17: Share the previous 5 sentences. 

“I need to learn how to talk to people who aren’t Roach. You’re not Roach. Do you mind if I practice with you?” 

It takes Jaskier a moment to realize that Geralt is talking to him. If he could have, he would almost have laughed.

(To clarify: Geralt has absolutely not realized that Jaskier is not a completely normal bird :D)

From this ask game!! <3

#asks #fingons-rad-harp #wren talks #this one's funny cos i've been meaning to write it since like november #and started it in january #but got really stuck #and then in early may i promptly scrapped everything opened a new doc and completely changed the plot and now i'm having way more fun #once i get a few other wips out of the way i'd love to get back to it!! in an ideal universe i'll finish it before season 3 cocmes out #we'll see how it goes

[sindar-princeling]

just wanted to let you know that through your newsletter my boyfriend is reading lotr for the first time and i get to read along with him and know exactly where he is as he live texts me his reactions and it’s just. the best thank you

HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE LIVING THE DREAM

#it must be SO much fun to you andbsbdbd #i love it so much thank you for sending me this ask! #fingons-rad-harp #no questions except on party business #i hope your bf is enjoying reading! :)

[swanmaids]

the 3 c’s for the character ask game

YESSSSS

Knead like bread- Celegorm. Painfully… but also maybe reshape him into a better person.

Shakey shakey- obviously Caranthir bc he’s probably got some nice gems stored in his pockets that I can pick up and use to buy him a therapist

Washing machine- CURUFIN bc he’s already going BRRRRR thunk thunk thunk in the blorbo washing machine of my mind every day. And I’ll hang him up very tenderly ❣️

#ask game #fingons-rad-harp

[stormxpadme]

7&8 for the oc of your choice <3

The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Tumblr Meme 7 - Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

There's rarely ever a chance to waste time at Mutant High when you have like half a dozen jobs to do but Katja will occasionally escape to the horse stable and spend an hour or so braiding Adora's mane just to shut her head off completely and not have to see anyone. Haflinger-Arabs, just like Haflingers, have an extremely thick mane with lots of hair, so that can take a while. It's completely useless because Katja doesn't do riding competitions which would be the only place where it actually makes sense to braid your horse, and horses really don't give a fuck how they look as long as they're healthy and comfortable. But it looks pretty and gives the hands something to do and sometimes that's all you need.

8 - Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging?

Well, that's easy. Give Scott and her an empty space and some kind of tune and rhythm and they'll spend every minute of however long they can get away with, working on their ballroom and latin dance choreographies. If they don't end up fucking on the dancefloor that is. Best way to celebrate music, moving, athletics, emotions and intimacy.

#sometimes stormy gets asked things #fingons-rad-harp #x men #everything after x2 didn't happen sue me #x men original timeline movies #headcanons #headcanon

[effervescentdragon]

j for our good friend jonathan harker

JOHNNY BOY! <3 also hi bestie i love you <333

JOLENE!!! JOLENE!! JOLENE!!!! JOLEEEEEEENE!!!!

(im so fucking tempted to just leave that one bcs its the one and only and ultimate fave song)

Jaded - Aerosmith

Jeremy - Pearl Jam

Jesse's Girl - Rick Springfield

July - Noah Cyrus

i may be a bit weird <3 thanks for asking bestiiiiie!

#akira answers asks #song ask #fingons rad harp #schrodinger’s bestie

[artistsfuneral]

part 8 of this

Jaskier sighs, suddenly feeling much older than he currently is (as old as he should be, a small voice in the back of his head informs him) and picks his lute up again to pour his heart out into the next song. If he suddenly sounds a lot better than he did five minutes ago, he's sure no one will actually notice.

It's not like the tavern patrons have shown him any semblance of kindness over the last few... Days? Weeks? Fuck, if his lost sense of time isn't a sign that he's slowly going insane, he doesn't know what it is.

But here's the thing, Jaskier thinks as he somewhat mindlessly sings about losing love and the pain of it, it's not like he isn't completely mad for Geralt. The amount of stupid things he's done in the past to gain his husband's attention, friendship, love was just the cherry on top of all the things he's willing to do. Many would probably call him stupid, insane, but Jaskier likes to think of himself as a romantic.

He won't back down. No matter how long it takes, because he truly, honestly, with all of his heart believes that Geralt is the love of his life. He's Jaskier's the one.

So when his song ends and he looks up and meets Geralt's eyes- He has to. He has to walk over and give the witcher his brightest, warmest smile.

remember to like and reblog if you voted!

@fingons-rad-harp @sinfulpetgirlrd @wren-of-the-woods @basilikum7 @eveljerome @this-is-not-a-slow-burn

tell me if you (don't) want to be tagged! :D

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt #witcher #geralt of rivia

[shoelace-eating-gopher]

Of Image and Identity

tagging @fingons-rad-harp who asked if I had any Maedhros blurbs. I do. Also on AO3 here

tw for a bit of internalized ableism

*****

Maedhros always wanted to spar. It had been like this since the Bragollach, the desperate energy, the drive to be better. The need to push everyone else around him to be better as well. He wanted to make sure they were never caught unawares again. While Maglor had to admit he was improving, he also thought it was a little unfair. With the loss of Fingolfin, Maedhros was the strongest of the Noldor still left alive and fighting, and Maglor had little chance of beating him. Still, he knew what this meant to his brother, so he tried his best.

Maglor had been living in Himring for years now, and with Fingon - King Fingon - able to visit less and less frequently, he had become a rock for his brother. While the rest of their family had been scattered to the South, so far out of reach, Maglor had fled to Himring when the fires had overwhelmed his land. He was more than happy to see his brother, to see the icy fortress still standing, but he had forgotten how paranoid Maedhros could be. Maybe with good reason.

So here they were, in a private, empty court, the rhythm of battle so achingly familiar. Maglor knew that the Sudden Flame had shaken his brother to the core, but it certainly hadn’t dampened his skills as a warrior. Back and forth they spun, swords clanging, the ground a flurry of footsteps. Maglor ducked around back, trying to take advantage of his brother’s less protected right side, but he was blocked and sent spinning. He only just managed to get his sword up in time before Maedhros countered with a blow of his own.

“You know,” Maglor said, teeth gritted, but his voice good-natured. “If you’d let me Sing, this would be a fair fight.” Maedhros spun around, pushing Maglor’s sword out of the way, exposing his chest. Quickly, Maglor ducked, rolling across the floor out of range.

“You can’t rely on your voice, Makalaurë,” Maedhros said, only using Maglor’s full name if he intended to lecture him. “You need to be prepared if something like the Bragollach happens again, if you get so much smoke clogged in your throat that you can’t Sing. This could be the difference between life and death.” He whirled after Maglor, a blur of scarlet and silver, the same fire in his eyes as always. It scared Maglor sometimes, but as long as it was there, it meant his brother was still fighting.

Maglor barely had time to get his bearings, to spin around and raise his sword, before he clashed with Maedhros again. He found himself being pushed back against the weight of his older brother, who had both the height and bulk advantage. He stepped aside, cursing when Maedhros did not so much as stumble forward, and blocked the blade coming up to his back. It seems no matter what Maglor did he couldn’t get the upper hand.

“You’re not watching me,” Maedhros told him after he had got yet another ‘blow’ in. “Predict what I’m going to do next, use my strengths against me. Maybe try some strategy of your own.” Maglor’s eyes flared and he thrust his sword forward, forcing Maedhros’ arm back. Maedhros fought his way out of the maneuver before Maglor could say anything, and delivered a swift blow to the knees which sent Maglor into a smooth roll across the floor once again.

“I’m not a child that needs instruction,” Maglor huffed, bouncing to his feet again, sword primed. “I am a seasoned warrior, you know that right?” He spun around, getting in one blow to Maedhros’ side before his blade was thrust up once more. “The problem is, you're better than just about everyone.”

“Not everyone,” Maedhros said darkly, and just like that, his sword whipped out from nowhere, twisting Maglor’s weary sword arm and sending his blade flying. Maglor grimaced. He really hated losing time and time again. He turned back to Maedhros, his sword tip fixed on his chest and resigned himself to another lecture.

“You are definitely improving,” he began, walking towards Maglor. “But the small things could save your life in battle. You need more strength, more ferocity. Don’t hold back on my behalf. You can’t afford to hold back for anything. You are also very rigid on the sword handle. It’s not a lute, Makalaurë, you don’t have to - ” At that moment Maedhros cried out, pitching forward onto one knee, face twisted in pain.

“Maedhros!” Maglor cried out, dropping down beside him. “Maedhros, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Maedhros was trying to school his features into a grimace or less before turning back to Maglor, clutching his right thigh, sword still in hand. The whole scene unnerved Maglor. Had he actually done some damage during a routine practice? He hadn’t thought it was possible. Maedhros was always so strong.

“I’m fine,” Maedhros stuttered out, always the first words out of his mouth and always a lie. “It’s… my leg.” Maglor winced, immediately going to assess the injury. For Maedhros to be showing this much pain… it had to be bad.

“What happened?” He asked, forcing Maedhros down into a position that wouldn’t put any weight on his legs.

“It’s just an injury from the Bragollach,” Maedhros gritted out, not looking Maglor in the eye. “It shouldn’t be acting up.” Maglor nodded at Maedhros, letting him have his half-truths. Maedhros had sustained many injuries in battle since he had become Lord of Himring, and none of them had been anything more to him than temporary inconveniences. It was the echoes of Thangorodrim that still plagued his brother, even if he pretended to act otherwise. Maglor knew that this leg had taken considerable damage during Maedhros’ captivity, being both broken and slit at the muscle. He wouldn’t put it past the exertion from the Bragollach to make it flare up.

“Come on,” Maglor said, putting his arm around Maedhros’ back, and helping him to stand. “Let’s get you help. This is obviously worse than you’re letting on.” Maedhros stood with him, which in itself was a testament to how much pain he was in. As they rose, Maedhros clutched at Maglor’s arm.

“Not the infirmary.” He hissed through his teeth. Right. Maglor sighed. Maedhros, despite his high standing, would never let any of the healers in Himring get close, whether out of a desire to be perceived as strong or a developed aversion to them after all his time spent in the infirmaries of Mithrim. It could only be one of his brothers.

“Not the infirmary,” Maglor told him, until Maedhros had calmed down, his death grip on Maglor releasing. “I’m taking you to your room.” It was somewhat difficult with Maedhros’ extra height, but it was nothing Maglor hadn’t done before. He had retaught him how to walk after all. But by the time they arrived in the vast chamber and Maedhros slumped into one of his large chairs, they were both rather pale.

Maglor waited with a pointed look until slowly, Maedhros undid his armour, allowing Maglor to examine his leg. He was much slower to roll up his pant leg, revealing twisted white scars across bone that was not quite set properly. Maglor knew he hated this, but he needed to know how bad it was, and for that, he needed to see skin. Maglor sucked in a quick breath. The whole area was bruised deep purple and had swollen significantly. It showed no sign of deep burns, infection, or recent scarring, confirming Maglor’s theory of an older injury. Most likely, it was another one of Maedhros’ bad days. Just how bad though remained to be seen.

“I’ll be right back,” Maglor promised, and made a quick trip down to the infirmaries to pick up supplies. He came back with a cloth full of ice - in abundance in Himring - a roll of bandages, and two small vials of medicine. Even this long after the Bragollach, Maglor was surprised at how well-stocked Himring’s medicines were. Maedhros was ever vigilant. Maglor arrived back to find Maedhros holding the old wound, tapping his fingers in the familiar rhythm that meant he was trying to ground himself.

“Hey,” Maglor said firmly, drawing his attention back to him. “Maedhros, it’s alright. I’m here, I’m back. You’re going to be okay. It looks like you were right - just a flare-up. It should go down soon. Here, this will help.” He handed Maedhros the ice, and he held it to his inner thigh, hissing slightly at the pressure and the chill.

“I’ve got something for that,” he said, almost a joke. He made sure Maedhros could see him as he mixed four or five drops of the first vial into a steaming mug of tea. When his brother nodded, Maglor handed it to him, and Maedhros drank it rapidly, regardless of temperature. Maglor winced again. The least Maedhros could do was try not to injure himself again while they were trying to heal him.

“Careful,” he said belatedly. “It’s hot.”

“I’ve had worse,” Maedhros rasped at him, switching the ice to another point in his leg, trying to find relief. Maglor wanted to grab him by the shoulders and yell, telling him that that wasn’t the point. The point was there shouldn’t be a problem at all. He refrained from doing so. Instead, he focused on soaking the bandages in the second vial of medicine, letting the healing properties be absorbed into the cloth. From behind him, Maedhros stirred, stretching his leg to test it, crying out softly as he was met with more pain.

“How do I make sure that this never happens again?” he asked, his voice low and controlled. Maglor’s heart ached as he felt the thousands of questions that lay behind the request. How do I make sure this never happens when it could kill me? How do I purge this weakness from the body I worked so hard to strengthen? Will I ever really heal? Maglor wished he was a healer, one who could tell Maedhros that there were simple steps he could follow and he would never have to hurt again. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t.

“I - I don’t know, Nelyo,” Maglor said, his voice softening. “It could be a one-time thing. But…” he continued despite the dangerous glare from Maedhros. “It could also be that the best way to live with this is to learn how to deal with these flare-ups.” Maglor knelt beside Maedhros, waiting to wrap the bandages around Maedhros’ leg until he had been given a consenting nod. Maglor took it as a good sign that Maedhros only flinched slightly as the saturated bandages - and Maglor’s fingers - made contact with his skin.

“Very helpful, Maglor,” Maedhros spat, not making eye contact with him. His voice dripped with the dark sarcasm that had been ever-present since his rescue. “I am constantly reminded why I keep you around. When Morgoth strikes again - and he will - I’ve always wanted to collapse in the middle of the battlefield because I couldn't control my own injuries.” He exhaled angrily and tried to stretch his leg again, only causing more pain.

It broke Maglor’s heart. He knew how much of his brother’s identity relied on his own strength. How much his recovery had been dependent on his ability to defend himself, to have autonomy. How he coped by striving for more, always, and not relenting. If flare-ups like this persisted… What did it mean for Maedhros’ future?

“Nelyo,” Maglor said gently, tying off the bandages and putting a hand on his brother's arm. “You have faced worse than this. You are strong enough to get through this. I have faith that this will not be a regular occurrence. I have faith in you.” Maedhros looked at the ground, scowling.

“Not much to believe in,” he mumbled. Maglor gathered the remainder of the medical supplies, preparing to return them.

“It’s gotten me this far,” he said, smiling softly at his brother, seeking out his eyes. “Trust me on this.” Maedhros didn’t meet his gaze, but his expression softened slightly. He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly closed, before slowly releasing all the air he had been holding in. Finally, he nodded. Not agreement, but acknowledgment. He would trust him for now. It was the only alternative they had. Maglor stood up, turning to leave for the infirmary.

“Maglor?” He heard Maedhros call from behind him.

“Yes?”

“No one knows about this, alright,” he said, a sliver of vulnerability sneaking into his guarded tone. Maglor turned back, nodding once.

“Alright,” he said, before pausing. “Fingon?” Maedhros ran his hand over his face, evidently weighing the cost of the need for his friend, and bothering the High King. Maglor raised a prompting eyebrow. Finally, Maedhros acquiesced with a nod.

“No one else,” he added, as if to make sure Maglor understood.

“No one else,” Maglor repeated, and he slipped out of the room, wishing he felt as confident as the words that came so easily to his tongue; a promise, a lie, that everything was going to be alright.

#my writing #my fic #silmarillon #the silmarillion #Silm #maedhros #maglor #so yeah I’m a writer #I have so many of these #I am just so used to being a lurker

[peopleofthewing]

For over a hundred years, Zephyros has been home to five houses of winged people: House Raven, House Owl, House Hawk, House Vulture, and House Song. Legend says that long ago, the houses lived in harmony, with many people freely moving between houses as they wished.

But House Raven grew power-hungry, and began a mission to rule over the whole continent. Alarmed, the Mother-Goddess, beloved by all houses, gifted each house with a powerful magically artifact. The artifacts allowed the other houses to stop House Raven. Or so the story goes…

Nowadays, the houses live separately. Relationships with people from other houses are forbidden. Leaving your birth house to live in another is highly frowned upon.

But worst of all, Queen Andraste of House Raven has picked up the conquest where her ancestors left off. House Vulture, a nomadic people, have already fallen.

A rebellion has begun, but they are severely outnumbered. Some houses are willing to stand and fight, while others are closing their borders.

Allegiances are questioned, sacrifices are made, and bonds are formed.

But in the end, who will win?

@untestedtheory @merilles @amazingwynter @decennia @lizisshortforlizard @wordspin-shares @elecktrum @luucypevensie @themaradwrites @oliviabelova @bluejay-in-flight @arrthurpendragon @fingons-rad-harp

#characters #set up #cassian #allard #zara #lord wyatt #wyatt #demir #celia #edits #people of the wing #potw #original story

[echo-bleu]

Trick or treat :D

A newish fic idea that takes from both or our common fandoms: a Russingon Accidental Warlord AU!

I know @fingons-rad-harp has already been writing an amazing one, but I had a thought for something very different and it kind of stuck, though I haven't done any actual writing yet (I haven't been writing at all this month 😭)

It goes like this: Fëanor was born on the Great Journey, before they crossed the sea. Míriel died, Finwë remarried and Fingolfin is born just as they embark. Fëanor, a young adult at this point, chooses to stay behind with Nerdanel.

Many years later, war against Morgoth has destroyed much of Beleriand, but the Sons of Fëanor held it to the end, when Morgoth finally tired of them and set his sights on Valinor. Ungoliant swallowed the Trees, killed Finwë, and the Valar decided it was time to intervene and defeated Morgoth.

The grandchildren of Finwë, who have known nothing but peace except for a very brief interlude, are hungry for discovery and lands on their own. Now that Middle-Earth is safe, they decide to sail there.

Findekáno, eldest son of the new King of the Noldor, is sent by his father as ambassador to Fëanor, with the instruction to form an alliance one way or another so his cousins and siblings can settle in Middle-Earth. But Fëanor died years ago, and there are many rumours about the cruel Sons of Fëanor who held their own against Morgoth by matching him in dark deeds, and most of all the eldest, Maedhros One-Handed, Warlord of the North, who is said to have sights on the job of Dark Lord himself...

Ask box trick or treat

#echo's writing thoughts #ask game #russingon warlord au

[heresthefanfiction]

I was tagged by @themaradwrites! Thank you!

This is from the upcoming chapter of Is This the End? So mild spoilers for that.

“I worked at Jurassic World, with the velociraptors,” she responded. “And then I was on Isla Nublar when that volcano blew, and in California when the dinosaurs escaped.” She lifted her prosthetic up a little. “That’s where I lost this.” Kayla whistled. “Damn girl. And you came back?”

Tagging: @wordspin-shares @fingons-rad-harp @untestedtheory @lizisshortforlizard @luucypevensie

#is this the end? #jurassic world fanfic #jurassic world dominion #kayla watts #lizzy greene #i'm having a blast writing kayla

[bae-owyn]

Cheers for the Nine People tag @ahobbitstale ! 🧡

Last Song: Beautiful James by Placebo

Last Movie: Oppenheimer! We found a cinema in Malaysia doing an English language screening a few weeks ago and it was so good!

Currently Watching: Adam Ondra's latest crack climbing adventures with the Wide Boyz on YouTube

Currently Reading: The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield (v twisty, I recommend)

Currently Craving: feta cheese!!!!!! it's been so long!!!*

Last thing you researched: whether (non-leaded) pewter is safe for gerbils

*three months, aka a lifetime

no pressure tags @nocompromise-noregrets @eviefrie @the-ragga-muffin @finleycannotdraw @fingons-rad-harp @et-earello @knifewifecamilla @gideonthe9 @daydreamsinthemoonlight

#tag game #personal tag #i would devour a block of feta rn

[swanmaids]

can i have 6 and 7 for leiheth please?

YOU SURE CAN

6. Does this character have recurring themes in their dreams?

Plants/flowers/trees, Goldberry of course, Vana and Yavanna, swimming, water in general.

7. Does this character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

She has semi-prophetic dreams about Cardolan’s impending doom. She also has nightmares about drowning.

#ask game #fingons rad harp #my ocs #leiheth

[effervescentdragon]

15 Q 15 FRIENDS

Are you named after anyone? nope but i have the best name in the world. i did name myself akira for akira kurosawa

When was the last you cried? thursday? im too tired to cry

Do you have kids? nope

What sports do you play/have you played? gymnastics, swimming, football. i was p good at all of them.

Do you use sarcasm? moi?

What is the first thing you notice about people? hands

What is your eye color? blue and sometimes grey and sometimes green

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I'm a pussy bitch. - just gonna leave dee's answer here

Any talents? telling stories i think

Where were you born? in a hospital under bombardment

What are your hobbies? laying down on the floor and thinking about my blorbos kissing

Do you have any pets? no i dont do well with pets

How tall are you? 170 on a good day

Favorite subject at school? english and philosophy

Dream job?DAAAAAHLING I DO NOT DREAM OF LABOUR

shit im supposed to tag 15 of you okay @saecookie @karlmarxverstappen @blorbocedes @vro0m-but-not-cars @duquesademiel @lokis-lapdog (STOP CHANGING YOUR NAME) @river-ocean @wolfiemcwolferson @hourcat @teamnick @44whispers @chattahoochiecoochie @thisforestsolitude @5ainz @8lottie8 @fingons-rad-harp @deathicus-sling @milflewis @mimmo2acmeelan @c2-eh @lewisshamilton @lewishamil10n @princemick @userkirian @lesbian-i-ching (all yall w sideblogs i hate you i only rmbr your mains <3) @sedicii @ruiniel @unknown-lifeform @schumigrace @fernandoalonzoo @schumigrace RIEL YOU TOO IF YOU SEE THIS I DONT KNOW ANY OF YOUR BLOGS someone tag riel please @inwiste anyways i hope this is 15 this is as much as i know

#tag games #forgot to tag dee #oh well #dickehad tag <3

[artistsfuneral]

part 12

"Death affects our hearts in many ways. Good and bad." Jaskier muses out loud as he collects his cards to put them back into his pocket. Normally he'd offer the witcher his deck to look through, but he hardly has any cards Geralt could be interested in. Because of it he doesn't notice the way Geralt's face turns incredibly angry at first and then morves into a mix of confusion and distrust.

"What did you say was your name again?" The bard blinks up at him in confusion, too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the sudden shift of the atmosphere around them. "Jaskier."

"Your real name."

He makes a noise, "Julian."

"Of?"

"Julian Pankratz of Lettenhove."

"Your father's name."

"Alfred Maxwell."

"Your husband's name."

"Geralt."

He gasps. Frozen to his chair, Jaskier's eyes widen. He messed up. He messed up badly.

Death affects our hearts in many ways.

As a boy, Geralt was forced into a second trial of grasses even before most of his brothers had woken up from their first. He hadn't reacted well to their death. High on the toxicity in his blood Geralt had turned his grief into anger and lashed out. It took three grown witchers to take him down. Afterwards Vesemir had sat down with him and gave Geralt a piece of advice he kept close to his heart for two decades. The day Jaskier read his parents' names in the obituaries was the day Geralt took Jaskier to the side and told him, "Death affects our hearts in many ways. Good and bad." He had fallen into Geralt's arms and cried his heart out. To this day, he never sought out revenge.

remember to like and reblog if you voted!

@fingons-rad-harp @sinfulpetgirlrd @wren-of-the-woods @basilikum7 @eveljerome @this-is-not-a-slow-burn @araglas1989 @alaskawho @cinary @swan--writes @mirrorthoughts @chaoticfandomthot @sonatabee @gregre369 @awitcheress @yaskefer @hannibard @myfeelisfunny

tell me if you (don't) want to be tagged

#the witcher #witcher #geraskier #artistsfuneral about the witcher #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia

[shoelace-eating-gopher]

Throwback Thursday

Rec one of your fics written at least a week ago and tag other writers.

Thanks so much to @zealouswerewolfcollector for tagging me! This took ages but I finally clawed out from under my uni work to start going through my notifications.

Since it’s Fëanorian Week, here is a piece I wrote for Caranthir at least two years ago.

Day Four - Of Burdens and Blushing

Caranthir knew he would always have to say goodbye. That he shouldn’t get too attached. However things panned out with Haleth, it could only ever be temporary. Yet he finds himself wishing he didn’t have to let go.

One last conversation with Haleth before she leaves Caranthir’s lands.

1596 words, G, Halenthir

Warnings: No warnings!

Tagging: @potatoobsessed999 @fingons-rad-harp @thescrapwitch

#my fic #tag game #silmarillon #the silmarillion #caranthir #Haleth #halenthir #feanorian week #feanorianweek #tolkien