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that-angry-noldo · 1 year

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A fic where Finarfin meets Elrond and Elros during the War of Wrath!!

tumblr user thelordofgifs. grips your shoulders. this fic has been haunting me all day. whole day spent brainstorming and i still have no idea how do i want to proceed. gazes at you grimly (/lh)

"-and then he CHARGED AT IT WITH A SONG, ELROND! Elrond, I may have accidentally fallen in love with how absolutely unhinged he looked. Elrond-"

"You cannot fall in love with your great-granduncle," Elrond grunted, and pinched Elros, prompting him to sit still while he was quickly braiding his hair. "Besides, he's married."

"No- no, Elrond, you don't understand, it was absolute perfection. That Balrog didn't stand a chance."

"It stood a very good chance," Gil-Galad groaned from the other side of the tent. "Which it proved. Your great-granduncle didn't slay it. It was almost quite the opposite, really."

"Excuse you," Elros protested, "it pretty much was almost dead by the end of the fight! It fled, I saw it with my own eyes!"

"And your great-granduncle almost lost his life in the process!" Gil-Galad snapped. "Was it heroic? Yes. Was it idiotic? Absolutely! You don't charge at Balrogs, Elros, you find the quickest way to escape. For Ulmo's sake."

Elros rolled his eyes. "You're so boring, cousin. I bet you also think Fingolfin challenging Morgoth was dumb."

"Let's not talk about my opinions on Fingolfin. Elrond, you should visit the healing tents when you're done with your twin. They might need your help."

"Sure."

"I'll go with him!" Elros perked up. Elrond rolled his eyes.

"Of course," Gil-Galad sighed. "Whatever to get you out of my sight, you reckless child."

The tents were quiet. Sometimes someone would groan in pain or whisper a few hushed words of delirium; but all the serious cases were already taken care of, and Elrond couldn't help but feel relieved at that.

"Elrond!" someone cried quietly. It was a healer, one of the main ones. He quickly made his way to them. "I'm glad you're here."

"I wanted to offer my help."

"How good are you at playing harp?"

Elrond froze, taken aback by the question. Elros scoffed. Imagine if Maglor heard this. Do you think he'd take that as an insult to his parenting abilities?

"I am... alright at playing harp, I guess? I know how to play a song or two."

"Excellent. Follow me."

"It's about the King," the healer continued. "He's in stable condition, but he's weak, after that- stunt he pulled. He can't rest properly, any sleep is interrupted by nightmares. Music might help him."

"Alright," Elrond said. "I'll see what I can do."

This wasn't the first time Elrond saw Finarfin. He saw him leave for battles, or walk through camp; the King was always cool and collected, with strong voice, steady eyes, and an aura of security that radiated through him.

Well, Elrond was a healer. He knew what wounds do to the strongest of warriors.

The room was barely lit. There was a simple bed in the middle, and a man lying on it, half-lidded eyes wandering the ceiling. His body was covered in bandages, breath shallow; long golden hair was glowing with a weak unsteady light.

"Your Majesty," Elrond called quietly, and gestured Elros to get on the other side of the tent. "Can you hear me?"

The man's eyes opened, and his gaze fell on Elrond. It lingered there for a second. A faint smile painted the King's face.

"You must be one of Eärendil's boys. You look just like your parents."

Elrond smiled. "Yes, I am. I am Elrond, and over there is Elros. How do you feel?"

The King closed his eyes. Elrond waited until they opened again.

"Imagine if... you were whipped, and then slammed with a sledgehammer."

"Yes, I suppose that's what happened. Are you in pain?"

"A bit. Nothing- unusual," the King breathed, and then smiled again. "It's nice to - to finally meet you, Peredhil. I would- meet you before, but Ereinion-"

"You shouldn't talk, you Majesty."

"Finarfin. Or Arafinwë. Whatever you prefer."

"We've been calling you great-granduncle," Elros said, insecure. The King laughed, then winced and coughed. He lay back on the pillow, exhausted.

"Well. That works too, though I'm a- great-great granduncle, am I not?"

"Yes, but that's a mouthful."

"Ah. I guess you... have... a point."

"Quit talking, your Majesty," Elrond sighed again, tugging at the harpstrings experimentally. "You should rest. Try to sleep."

The King closed his eyes slowly. Elrond looked at his twin, and Elros nodded.

They Sang a lullaby - the one Maglor would sing to them during thunderstorms, or to chase away their nightmares. By the time they finished, the King was fast asleep, his face still pale, but his breath steady, and his body relaxed. Elrond nodded to his twin, and they quietly left the tent.

(worth noting that i already have a fic with similar idea! it's called "the king and the healer" :) finarfin and elrond discuss their problematic family)

#it actually turned out nice!! i'm glad #elrond #elros #finarfin #war of wrath #and before you ask no finarfin didn't willingly fight a balrog #he was cornered and had no other choice #thank yoi for the prompt!

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polutrope · 1 year

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Daeron and Maglor, naturally

Well promising I'd be brief was a mistake. I've tried.

DAERON

one aspect about them i love

He's the best at what his people (the Teleri) are best at (music) but he's *also* a loremaster and inventor. Daeron as Telerian Fëanor agenda.

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

He's a sympathetic character.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

He was born in the time the Teleri were waiting for Thingol to return. His parents were not great parents, and he was also very in love with the land, so he decided not to follow them when they left with Olwe. Thingol (his patron) and Melian (his teacher) are somewhat of parental figures for him. His parents were killed in the First Kinslaying, though he never learns this.

Because he never sails west (unless it suits me to write that he does lol).

one character i love seeing them interact with

Maglor, obviously 😁. But also Lúthien. Honestly I'll take anyone, he doesn't get enough fic.

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

Melian. Ainu and minstrel, it's perfect. Last I checked Hearken Still Unsated is the only fic tagged Daeron & Melian (not that others don't exist... even in Hearken it's a secondary relationship but I do think it's an important one).

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

His relationship with Melian is complicated. She taught him but he never completely trusts her or the Ainur generally. He loves and respects her and Thingol, but he's too smart not to question authority.

MAGLOR

one aspect about them i love

At least for me, he represents the ability to make a different choice: pitying and raising Elrond and Elros, breaking the oath (even if he doesn't - or does he?), casting away the Silmaril; to walk away, to let go, to keep living. If I may quote myself:

“For how many years," Maglor asks, "have we two listened for the echoes of the Music of Creation in the oceans and lakes and rivers? And yet we will never be sated. Like the water in which they say it lives, the Song does not rest but ever moves and changes. It cannot be known. It is the same for all who call Arda home, whether Elf or Man or any other creature that lives. Even, I think, for the Ainur. It may pool in a great lake for an age and then pour down into the Sea in another. It fills whatever spaces it can and flows by whatever paths most easily open before it.”

Moonlight paints a white line down Daeron’s neck as it turns towards him. “You do not believe then that all was sung to completion before Time?”

“Perhaps. I don’t know. I have given up on the desire to know.”

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

He's a warrior. He's terrifying. He's "commander gold-cleaver". His songs are probably almost all about glorifying the great deeds of the Noldor, even when they are laments. (Highly recommend the last addition to this post!)

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

He tried to be an inclusive and collaborative leader with his brothers during Maedhros' captivity, which ended up being a disastrous approach to crisis management so he never secured formal authority as leader of the Fëanorians. Basically a 30-year leadership crisis. Thus their inability to accomplish much.

He never sails west. His disembodied voice is still here 😉.

one character i love seeing them interact with

Daeron, of course.

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

Finrod. I don't care if this relationship has very thin canonical support, I just like them together in all modes. It's thematically satisfying and also hot.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

With almost everyone he's very confident (read: a cocky little shit) but he loses this around Maedhros, especially after Thangorodrim. They love each other but it's not the healthiest relationship. They are quite capable of bringing out the worst in each other. I'm a supporter of the Maglor and Caranthir being close agenda. I think hanging with Caranthir is much more relaxing (for both of them) and they often do during the siege years.

#maglor #daeron #ask games #phew got these two out of the way 😛#headcanons

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animatorweirdo · 6 days

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One Final Dream

You return home, and to your surprise, Camilla has become more supportive of your feelings toward Maglor. You eagerly wait for tomorrow but yet again you see a dream that leaves you in doubt about your feelings for the elf.

Warnings: Crushing hard, being shy, Maglor asking you on a date, Camilla being supportive, mentions of wearing bandages, silence, mentions of the incident, a nightmare, and doubts.

Chapter 23

-----------------------------------------------

As the evening loomed over Himring, Camilla was cooking dinner when her eyes noticed something riding through the front gate. It was you and Maglor. You were behind him, holding his waist as he made his horse trot toward the stables. There, he dismounted and helped you jump down. Maglor gave his horse to the stable master, and you two continued walking, engrossed in some kind of conversation.

Camilla observed the way you both talked and moved. Maglor’s eyes were constantly on you, smiling and nodding at whatever you two were talking about. You also looked more relaxed with him, continuously talking and looking at him for input.

Camilla shook her head. There was no stopping what was happening between you. After receiving Maglor’s literal declaration of love for you, she didn't feel angry or regretful over the situation. Of course, it would have been safer if you two remained friends, but maybe this time it could work out.

Camilla took her eyes away and continued making dinner.

You and Maglor walked up the familiar stairs and then stopped at a familiar crosswalk.

“Anyway… that’s what happened,” you ended after telling him how you and Luthien pranked her father. Maglor was smiling, amused by the story.

You glanced toward the horizon, where the sun was setting. Your heart began to pound nervously as you thought about confessing your feelings to him. Remembering Luthien’s and Nelle’s words, you decided to go for it; otherwise, you might never have the courage to say it if you backed down now.

“Uhm… Thank you for riding me back here,” You started. “I’m really grateful for that,”

“You’re welcome. It’s a good thing I did. It saved a lot of time than making you walk back here, ” Maglor replied.

“It did. Hey… there was something I wanted to tell you,” you said, feeling your heart race faster when you thought about finally telling your feelings to him.

“Actually, I also have something I want to tell you…” Maglor said, making you stop and look at him curiously.

“Okay. You can go first…” you said, curious to hear what he had to say.

"I don’t think this is the best place to tell you. Can you meet me tomorrow evening in the garden? The flowers have bloomed there, and... I also want to show you something," Maglor asked, showing a rather shy smile.

“Yeah! Of course!” you said, nodding your head.

“Great,” Maglor smiled. “I see you then. I hope that you rest well tonight. It had been quite an eventful day for you,” he said.

“Yeah… Goodnight,” you replied.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, and slowly you two went on separate ways.

Walking back toward your apartment, your mind raced with thoughts and imaginations. Your face was blazing after accepting to meet Maglor in the garden. Did... Did Maglor just ask you on a date? Are you hallucinating right now? Why else would he ask you to meet in a place such as the garden? What is it he wants to tell and show you?

Is he possibly wanting to confess his feelings for you?

The thought nearly made you jump. There was a chance you were overthinking it, but the idea made you incredibly happy. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest with joy. Dear Lord, you don’t think you have ever crushed so hard on someone in your entire life.

After reaching the door to your place, you retrieved the spare key from the hidden compartment behind a small painting beside the door. The lock clicked open after you inserted the key and turned it. Something good greeted your nose after you walked in, indicating you came at the right time for dinner.

“I’m home,” You declared as Camilla was already sitting at the table.

“Nice for you to finally show up,” She said with her arms crossed and a sharp look on her face.

“Okay, before you get mad at me. I got something for you,” you said then pulled out the medicine parchments from your bag.

“Bam! My new official medicine, the instructions, and the necessary ingredients for us to grow by ourselves,” you said as you handed her the recipe. “This trip was more worth than we thought,” you grinned as you dropped the bag on the table.

"I believe we can thank that concoction that did the opposite and forced me to turn on that hunting trip," you stated before heading to the kitchen counter, where the food awaited, while Camilla read over the recipe.

“I guess it was indeed a one-happy accident,” Camilla said as you grabbed a plate and scooped food for yourself.

“How was your ride with Maglor?” Camilla asked.

"It was fine. He thought it would be faster and safer for me if he came to get me himself, and it was. Plus, he agreed to teach me how to ride one day," you replied, picking up a fork and beginning to eat.

“That’s nice,” Camilla uttered as she went through your bag to grab the seed pouches. She stopped when she found the letters you exchanged with Maglor.

“Did you seriously keep Maglor's letters to you?” she asked with a frown as she read one of them.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” you asked defensively.

“Nothing. It's just nerdy as hell and the way these had been written, it seems like you two are the most oblivious lovebirds in existence,” she said.

You set the plate down. “Okay, before you start with my crushing again–” you started.

“Go for it,” Camilla said over you.

“Wait… What?” you looked at her confused.

“I said. Go for it. If you truly like him that much, then go for it and confess your feelings for him,” Camilla explained as she inspected the seeds.

“Where… Where is this coming from? When did you suddenly change your mind about the whole matter?” you questioned.

“That romantic fool decided to make it very clear that he feels the same for you. He was annoying but seemed serious enough,” Camilla answered while rolling her eyes.

“Wait, he did what?” You felt your face warm up again. Your heart then stopped at the revelation. Oh god, he was asking you on a date! And he returned your feelings!

“He feels the same for you. So, go for it. He already knows about the curse and seems sincere enough about loving and protecting you,” Camilla explained while you felt like you wanted to blow up with happiness.

“So, wait! I can really confess to him, and you won’t get mad?” you asked.

“I no longer see the reason why it should not happen. There is a chance this relationship could work, the only downside being that he’s immortal. You won’t forever exist in this world, so I hope you are aware of that,” Camilla replied.

“I know… but if it meant loving him while I still could, then maybe it would be worth it,” you smiled.

“Thanks, Camilla, for allowing this. He asked me to see him tomorrow in the garden. I think it's a date,” you grinned joyfully.

“Cute… Now eat while the food is still warm,” Camilla ordered.

“Right,” you grabbed your plate and started eating.

You thought about the discovery, and couldn't help but shake with joy. You would have loved to hear about Maglor’s feelings for you from himself, but now you felt more confident about your own. You don’t think you have ever been this lucky in your life.

The memories of the incident with Jace flooded your mind, causing you to pause. Anxiety crept in as you recalled the advice you had followed since the incident, but perhaps this time you could finally let go of those old fears and allow yourself to be happy.

The winter blizzard raged outside, its howling wind barely muffled by the sturdy walls of the house. Despite the fire crackling in the hearth, the chill seemed to seep into the very bones of the building. You sat on the couch, feeling the tightness of the bandages around your chest. It was only the second day since your return from the hospital, and you already felt like you were being suffocated by them.

Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the occasional clatter of dishes as Camilla's parents as they prepared dinner. Camilla's grandmother sat in a worn armchair, puffing on her pipe and lost in thought. Camilla herself sat nearby, her usual studious demeanor replaced by a distracted air as she attempted to lose herself in a book.

It was so quiet. One of the only things that were louder was your thoughts, which still looped around the day when you got shot and Jace was sent to prison. No one talked about it, and your heart was still broken.

“Dinner’s ready,” Camilla’s mother called out.

You all were seated around the table, eating what seemed to be chicken, mashed potatoes, and something else. You didn’t have the appetite to focus, so you slowly ate what was on the plate.

“I hope you took the incident to your heart,” Camilla’s mother was the first to break the silence.

You didn’t say anything.

“This is what happens when weak-minded people learn the truth and try to pretend to be heroes, thinking they are eradicating evil,” she started.

“I’m certain she had learned her lesson. I don’t think anyone would try to find a relationship after an ordeal like that,” Camilla’s father interjected.

“After a near experience with death like that. It is a lesson that will forever be engraved in someone’s mind,” Camilla’s grandmother said.

“Right, (Name)?” she looked at you.

All of them looked at you expectantly.

“Yes…” you uttered quietly.

“I didn’t quite hear. Are you certain you would not do something stupid as this ever again?” Camilla’s grandmother questioned.

“Yes. I won’t,” you answered loudly.

“I don’t quite buy that, because aren’t you already repeating this mistake?” she asked and you looked at her confused.

“Do you really think anything good will happen if you seek a relationship with this elf?” she asked and suddenly the atmosphere felt colder than ever. You froze when all of them looked at you with cold, angry, and disappointed expressions.

You turned toward Camilla’s grandmother.

“Remember what I said, even if this is a rare one, this curse will always bring sorrow wherever you may go,” she said.

You jolted as you woke up on your bed. You breathed through your nose and stared through the darkness of your room.

A groan left you as you lay on your back and stared at the ceiling. It was just another dream about the incident. You were starting to think you were getting too comfortable with sleeping.

However…

Camilla’s grandmother’s words repeated in your mind, asking if you were already repeating the same mistake. You did not want to think about it, but now you could not help but think if you were making a mistake. You were not lucky in your past relationship, so why would you think this would turn out better?

Maybe you should not go through with it. Maybe you should not confess your feelings to Maglor.

#tolkien #silmarillion x reader #middle earth x reader #silm fic #middle earth #maglor #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #maglor x reader #maglor x human reader #cursed reader #modern reader #the spring heart's bloom #slow burn

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navyinks · 3 years

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Character Design of Daeron (the conductor has turned around to face his audience)

Although he’s described as the best musician in Middle Earth, it doesn’t really specify his true strengths (singing? harping? rap battles?), so I decided to freestyle it and gave him a minimalistic design with a calm colour palette suited for a loremaster and composer rather than a performer.

Speaking of performers, Daeron’s dress is designed to be strongly contrasted against Maglor. While Maglor’s attire has elaborate colour and curve design with fairly simple jewellery, Daeron’s overall dress is more linear, simple and accented on the accessories (I imagine he has a keen eye for details). To acknowledge his invention of the runes, many of his design elements are blocky with sharp edges mingled with smoother curves.

#the silmarillion #daeron #Character Design #tolkienverse things #not a performer is just a long-winded way of saying he isn't a drama queen like maglor LMFAOOO #any i have no idea how often i'm going to draw daeron in the future #but i thought i might as well draw his clean design since i already had his design sheet sketched out #of course in the final painting he ended up wearing something entirely different #BUT THAT'S FOR THE COLOUR COMPOSITION OK #maglor isn't wearing his flower vase design either lol #also i just did a quick overlay of these two #daeron is an entire head shorter than maglor omg #this is due to bad planning on my part #...#I WILL ACCEPT MY MISTAKE #Misc Silmarillion Character Designs

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doodle-pops · 2 years

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Their favourite activity for the winter season

A/N: Hello to everyone reading. This is my first post based on the elves. I wrote a lot so the rest is under the cut. I hope everyone enjoys it and happy holidays 🥳🎄🥳

House of Feanor

Feanor – crafting. Sitting with you to help you make all the decorations to hang on the tree or around the house. Any ornaments you want, he’ll make it for you. No need to spend any money. He also enjoys building gingerbread houses with you. This is where you’d see his childish and carefree but competitive side.

Maedhros – decorating. He enjoys helping you paint, put up new curtains, rearranges the living room. He’s also the perfect person to have around when you can’t reach the high places to paint or to put up curtains. He’s the ladder. Always giving his genuine opinion to help you mix and match. You always end the day drinking a cup of hot chocolate.

Maglor – carolling. This was perhaps the most obvious to everyone including you. It’s not exactly carolling but hosting concerts where he’d perform all the holiday specials. He’d make room for you to join him on stage so you both can act and sing together. He loves when you get roles where you are couples. He gets to be more his natural self but a bit more flamboyant.

Celegorm – ice skating/sledging. He’s someone that loves the outdoors, so he’d obviously find an activity that suits his extravagant outdoor life. What better activity than sledging and ice skating. The entire time the two of you are engaging, he’s taking it as a competition. At least no one gets injured at the end of your fun and games.

Caranthir – baking. From the moment you walk into the house – actually from the gateway – you can smell the spices, meats, fruits, cookies, and cakes. It practically makes your mouth water and stomach grumble. He’d be dressed in an apron, busying himself about the kitchen. The both of you would engage in building gingerbread houses together while drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows and peppermint.

Curufin – decorating/crafting. This man is the best person you’d want to hire to renovate your house for the holidays. He’d everything, so you wouldn’t have to lift a finger. If you ask to help him, of course, he’ll let you assist. Make sure to guide you. If you want decorations for the tree, or for the fireplace, you got it. Everything in the house was made by him.

Amras – ice skating. Happy to hold your hands, or you close, ensuring you don’t injure yourself while you are out having fun. Like his older brother, if you are an excellent skater, then it’s a competition. Racing each other to see who can skate better. More spins, twirls, or dance better. Though the last option was a failure since neither of you were good dancers, to begin with.

Amrod – baking. This isn’t successful baking though. It’s more of competitive baking that results in a food fight and big brother Caranthir has to scold you both and then makes dessert because the both of you cannot bake to save a life. That’s what happens. The entire process was fun from beginning to end, even though the cake and cookies burnt and didn’t even raise because someone didn’t put any baking powder.

Celebrimbor – theatre. Well since they don’t have television like us, going to watch plays is the equivalent. The one time of the year he doesn’t want to be working. He just wants to relax and spend all the time possible with you. Sitting in the most private section in the theatre, you both would be out of view, so cuddling while watching the play happens. Just the both of you wrapped up in each other’s arms.

House of Fingolfin

Fingolfin – horse riding/sledge ride. You’d spend most of the day outdoors, roaming about on your horses, galloping through the snow-filled pathways. Leisurely strolling through the forest, hold hands sometimes, you’d be close to each other one your horses. Sharing the occasional jokes, you’d be able to see him in let loose a bit. At night when the snow is falling, you’d both go for a sledge ride. Drinking wine, laughing at his jokes, he’d have you tucked under his arm, making sure you were warm enough, despite the million and one layers you were wearing.

Fingon – ice-skating/frolicking. Holding hands, hopping from one stall to the next, playing games, or taking you to the ice-skating rink. The both of you would be matching in gold and blue, laughing at how you’re falling over. He’s an expert at skating so there’d be no falling. Holding your hands, guiding you – a successful excuse to be close to you – he’d be holding you close. Sometimes, he’ll pull you in close, almost lifting you, and skating around the ring.

Turgon – theatre/sledge ride. Waking up early, he’ll have you both going for sledge rides as the morning sun was rising. Swaddled in your cosiest winter wear, you’ll still lean into his side for extra warmth. Drinking tea or hot chocolate as you both were basking in the sun’s radiant rays. Later on, during the day, you’d attend the theatre to watch plays. Being the private person he is, you’d be in the private box, having the entire area all to yourselves.

Argon – frolicking/snowman building/snow fight. He’s spontaneous like his older brother, so he’ll want to be everywhere at once, dragging you with him. Playing games, watching the light display (they use magic), or fighting with snowballs. This is where the competition beings. It’s either a snowball fight or snowman building. And lucky for you, he’s doing both. You’d spend your time building a nice family of snowmen, only for him to start pelting you with snow, ruining some of your work. By the end of the day, he’s running for his life from you.

House of Finarfin

Finarfin – walks/winter meals. As the holidays approach, he makes time to spend it with you. Walks in the snow are his favourite. Just watching you walk in the snow, while you’re dressed in your beautiful attire makes him melt. He believes that the snow makes you look heavenly. Having meals with you is most absolute. He’ll never miss the opportunity to dine. Whether breakfast, lunch, or dinner, or all three, he’s happy to have them. Sometimes, it's relaxed and laidback, other times it’s romantic and cosy. You’d both end up dancing the night away, holding each other closely, basking in the warmth and comfort.

Finrod – baking/cuddling by the fireplace. The two of you would be dressed in the full chef’s wear, curtsy of Finrod, ready to bake to your heart's content. You’d be mixing the batter for cookies, while he’d sneakily try to steal when you’re not looking, earning him hits from your wooden spoon. He’d be rolling out the dough – tyring not to eat it – ready to cut out the shapes. While the cookies are baking, you’d be sitting in the kitchen laughing at old stories, drinking tea. When the cookies were finished, you’d both cuddle up by the fireplace, eating your gourmet dessert, watching in the snow falling outside.

Angrod – winter meals. So, he’d be most excited to have breakfast, lunch, and diner with you for the holidays. These meals would be held outside though. In a mini greenhouse, where you can sit and observe the snow falling on the glass. This sounds really magical. For breakfast, he’d insist on you have it in your pyjamas, because it’s the best way to enjoy breakfast. For dinner, he wants you both to be garmented in your finest wear. Spending the evening dining away, laughing and drinking to your heart's content. After, you’d both end it with a dance.

Aegnor – cuddling/eating. He wouldn’t want to leave the house, so he’d insist you do the same. Spending the day cuddled and swaddled in blankets by the fireplace, eating all your favourite desserts that the kitchen so graciously made. Swapping stories, telling jokes, sometimes you would fall asleep in his arms. You wake up to him asleep, snoring lightly. If the weather was holding up good, you’d go outside to see the reindeers and feed them.

Special Guest

Glorfindel – sledge riding/decorating. You’d start off the day with decorating because we know how easily distracted, he can get sometimes. His height comes in handy, but he is cheeky, so instead of putting the decorations up for you, he’ll insist on you sitting on his shoulder. Naughty boy. If not, he’ll lift you up, maintaining a firm grip so you wouldn’t fall. Decorating with him can be fun and painful because you can never get anything done. He’s always distracting you. You’ll also go on sledge rides, with Asfaloth dressed in golden bells and green and gold ribbons, pulling the sledge. Cuddled up next to each other, you’d both spend the evening watching the stars and the snow falling.

♡♡🎄🥳HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE AND BE SAFE🥳🎄♡♡

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runawaymun · 2 years

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Prompt 21 for kidnap dads? "No one has a heart of stone"

This got unintentionally HUGE so I also posted it to AO3, because it's probably easier to read there. But here let me lob some Maebae feels at you. Because I love pain. Thank you so so much for this prompt-- it has been an amazing source of much needed distraction.

I’m so excited to have an excuse to finally write Maedhros.

Supine | Maedhros & Elrond | Kidnap Fam

When the news had reached Maedhros through his spymaster that Eärendil the Mariner and his wife, Elwing (and thus, the Silmaril), had set out on some fool errand to cross the sea and petition the Valar for aid his first thought had been one of despair. There would be no passage to Valinor. The ship would be lost to the sea, and the Silmaril with it.

He had said as much to Maglor. The two of them were so consumed by the loss of the Silmaril and the wake of Sirion that the other half of the equation was forgotten. The ship would be lost to the sea, and Eärendil and Elwing with it.

Maedhros had refused to even look at the Peredhil since they had first been snatched up at Sirion. They were so little. Too little. When he had found them one of the boys (he refused to learn which was which, though Maglor had made sure he at least knew their names) had kicked him in the shin and bit him, and when Maedhros had hauled him off his feet and carried him down the stairs, the blood on his hauberk soaked through the child's nursery gown.

He tried not to think about it. He refused to think about it. It was such a little thing, compared to the rest of Sirion. He should have killed them. It seemed a needlessly cruel thing to deny them a swift passage to healing in Mandos in favor of the company of Kinslayers in the cold ass-end of Beleriand.

But in that moment, even as blood (there was always so much blood, but at least this time it had been his) dripped down his arm from where one of the Peredhil had bitten him, Maedhros could not bring himself to kill them. They were so little, and he was so sick of death.

Hostages they would be. To be ransomed for the Silmaril. Maedhros did not care for them. That was what he told himself, anyway.

The Peredhil had clung to that feeble hope: ransom. They had constantly, vehemently insisted that their father would come for them, and that when he did Maedhros and Maglor would be sorry.

When Maedhros spared a glance up from the fire he'd been staring into as he and Maglor discussed this piece of news and their next course of action, he saw one of the twins standing in the doorway, pale as a ghost, gray eyes huge and luminous. A chill laced Maedhros' spine. That was the thing about the Peredhil (creepy little bastards!) they never looked quite normal. They seemed to shift from space into the spaces between space, forms dancing between elf and man and maia like fire-lit cave paintings.

Maglor followed his line of sight to the child in the doorway. He stood.

"What's wrong? Why are you out of bed?"

The Peredhel didn't answer. He only stared at them. Maedhros felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he felt the child try to sneak his way beyond the bounds of his mind. He snapped his shutters tight and glared at him.

The boy only stared mutely back with simmering interest. It had to be Elrond. No doubt about it.

"What are you going to do with us now?" he asked in stilted Quenya.

The question was not something either Maedhros or Maglor were prepared to consider.

"Gil-galad and Círdan might still want us," the boy said again, and it struck Maedhros: the whirring anxiety behind that detached exterior. He was too good at this for one so young, and that was Maedhros' own fault.

Gil-galad does not have a Silmaril to bargain with, Maedhros thought grimly. He wisely did not voice that aloud. Instead, he said: “Go to bed.”

"Why, because it will be easier to strangle us in our sleep?"

The identical voice came from the dark hallway. Elros. Elrond's brother could spit venom from twenty yards. By the fire, Maglor flinched. Fear glimmered in Elrond's eyes at his brother's accusation, and Maedhros couldn't stand to look at him.

"Go to bed," he snarled again, baring all of his teeth, standing from his chair by the fire. "Scram."

Even Elros shrunk beneath his shadow. Both boys paled and disappeared down the hall. Maedhros watched them go and then sank back into his chair, hating himself.

Maglor scowled at the fire.

"Do you have to be such an animal?"

His brother might as well have slapped him. Maedhros curled his left fist on the armrest and did not answer him. Kinslayer. Murderer. Maimed. Monster. Animal. He was at once grateful that he no longer answered to Maitimo. The name was a joke.

"Get out," he snapped.

He could feel Maglor had realized his mistake. The guilt radiating off of him was a tightening noose. "Nelyo--"

"Leave."

Maglor did, shutting the door behind him, and Maedhros tucked his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them like a porcupine protecting his belly.

----

The sun had not yet breached the horizon when Maedhros finally stirred from his seat. He had been there for hours, unmoving, and his limbs creaked as he unwound them.

He took up his usual rounds around the current fortress that now passed for home since the fall of Himring. It wasn’t long until he felt something no larger than a centipede try to slither into the space between his eyes.

He whirled to see one of the twins hiding in the shadows of the hall, watching him unblinkingly like a cat.

“Stop it, Elrond,” he snapped. “I am not in the mood for one of your games.”

Having failed, the child tried to get an answer by the usual means. “I want to know if I am about to die.”

The words, and the tone they were said in, were such an ugly dissonance to that soft face with its saucer-shaped eyes that it knocked all the air from Maedhros’ chest. Elrond barely came up to his hips.

Maedhros wet his lips and looked away from that piercing, too-solemn gaze.

Elrond went on quietly: “I knew Naneth wasn’t coming back. Elros didn’t believe me. And now Adar will not either and that means you have no more use for us. If I am about to die, please just tell me. It’s nicer that way.”

His voice was so small and sweet, steel carefully forged into it as best as he could at that age. He was trying to be brave. And, truly, it was brave of him. Few could boast of repeated attempts to bite into Maedhros Fëanorion’s mind the same way Elros could boast of biting his arm.

He should not have to be brave.

He should not have to fear for his life.

He was so little.

Maedhros couldn’t breathe. He had to throw his good hand out to the wall to steady himself before he said, voice ragged: “I am not going to kill you.”

Elrond cocked his head. “You killed children in Sirion. I saw them.”

Maedhros stared at the floor, studying the tile pattern. “Yes,” he admitted. “I am sure I did.”

The light in the hall began to pale with the rising of the sun. Elrond’s thin face was unreadable.

“You don’t remember?”

Maedhros remembered red. He remembered his sword cleaving a path through flesh and sinew and metal indiscriminately in a mad dash for the blinking beacon of the Silmaril. The Oath consumed all sense and reason, blinding him like a carriage horse, and he had seen nothing but that damned light and red.

The next thing he clearly remembered was standing at the base of a tower, pleading with Elwing to hand over the Silmaril as she leaned out of the uppermost window, determined to throw herself into the sea.

Elrond looked so much like her.

He looked away, back to the floor.

Neither of them said anything for a long time after that. Eventually, Elrond left him, and Maedhros was once again alone-- which was how he liked it best.

----

The twins put on a brave front and stayed out from underfoot for nearly a fortnight. Maedhros was content to forget about them. If he did not think about them, then he did not have to think about the terror in their faces when he had chased them out of his room. He did not have to think about Elrond’s trembling voice asking for the courtesy of at least knowing when he might die.

Elros still shot him acerbic scowls every chance he got. Elrond, however, had begun to watch him with a detached fascination in the same way he liked to crouch and watch the ants carrying dirt to and fro as they built their tunnels. He seemed to relish watching him, studying him. Maedhros could practically see Elrond taking him apart in his head piece by piece, trying to decide which pieces were threats and which were benign. It stabbed him straight through with a memory of Moryo. He had been like that when he was small, even back in Valinor in the absence of danger. Solemn Moryo who had grown up shrewd and whip-smart, with his penchant for affairs of state and politics of the likes of which even Maedhros had sometimes failed to grasp.

He squashed the thought immediately. The twins already were a reminder of the Ambarussa. He did not need to draw one more connection.

But once he had begun he could not stop. Elrond had Moryo’s shrewdness and Curvo’s cleverness. Elros was at times as wild and volatile as Turko and at times as good-natured and warm as Pityo and Telvo. And with each connection he drew, he sunk further into a trap of his own making from which he could not escape.

He was becoming fond of them, despite all attempts otherwise. And as the year wore on Maedhros thought less and less of any attempts to offload them onto their kin at the earliest convenience.

And in the end, when Elrond first touched his stump with curiosity and overwhelming compassion, that was what undid him. So few Elves could even bear to look at it. It was avoided in a polite attempt to save Maedhros' pride. But Elrond did not care. Maedhros’ hand was not an out-of-tune note graciously ignored, but just another fact about him. Something which made him Maedhros. Elrond had not bothered with looking pained or lamenting its loss. He only lit up with bright curiosity as to how it had been done and salvaged, and asked to see all of the clever contraptions which Curvo had once fashioned for Maedhros to replace it. The inventions fascinated Elrond and he begged to show Elros, and even Elros could not disguise his enthusiasm over the shield designed to loop around Maedhros’ arm, nor the crossbow which was meant to be fitted to it as if it had always belonged there.

The porcupine exposed his belly at last. Over time, the twins ceased to see him as a monster from their nightmares. Elrond first, with his quiet pragmatism, and Elros soon followed out of trust for his twin’s judgment.

Late one night, the twins had fallen asleep on him after listening to a long tale of Valinor-across-the-sea, and Maedhros had frozen stock-still, unwilling to move and wake them.

That was how Maglor found them. He gave Maedhros one of his infuriatingly knowing smiles.

“I thought you weren’t going to get attached?”

“Shut up,” Maedhros growled, though it was half-hearted.

He had not meant to. It would only hurt more when he inevitably had to return them to their kin. No matter what anyone might say of him, Maedhros Fëanorion did not have a heart of stone. Elrond had seen straight through that and burrowed into his core and Maedhros knew it was a fatal wound.

That didn’t stop him from enjoying his time with them while it lasted.

#maedhros #elrond #maglor #elros #kidnap dads #kidnap fam #the silmarillion #silmfic #And Rohan Will Answer! (Requests)

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daughter-of-flame · 2 years

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Introducing Mavwin

Hello Tolkien fandom! I’d like to (finally) introduce my OC who’s been living rent-free in my head for nearly ten years now.

(Picture made with [WIP] Elvish Character Creator RE by Findekane on Meiker.io)

Overview:

Born in Valinor in the Years of the Trees, Mavwin is the third child of Fëanor and Nerdanel and the couple’s only daughter. She survives the rest of her family into the Third Age. I’m currently writing her story, set primarily during the War of the Ring. She actually started out as a Tenth Walker Legomance OC and that hasn’t changed. She has, however, improved considerably as a character. (To be fair I was like 15 when I first made her.) Fun fact, I made her originally so I could make a LotR fic but still play with Silm lore, only to slowly realize just how much trauma would result from being so involved in all the events of the First Age on. Sorry Mavwin, I didn’t actually mean to make your life suck so bad.

(Putting the rest in a read-more because this got really long)

Background:

Mavwin spent her childhood and youth in the bliss of Valinor. When Morgoth destroyed the Two Trees and brought about the Darkness, Mavwin swore the Oath of Fëanor along with her father and brothers and participated in all three Kinslayings. In fact, she spent much of the First Age in the same fashion as her brothers. The one difference is that unlike her brothers, and most of the rest of her family, Mavwin survived. Much to the displeasure of greater Elven society, after the War of Wrath, Elrond and Elros, who Mavwin had fostered along with Maglor, found their foster mother and rehabilitated her with the help of her nephew Celebrimbor. Over the course of the Second Age Mavwin lived Lindon, Eregion, and Rivendell; explored the eastern and southern reaches of Middle-earth, and fought in both wars against Sauron. She spent most of the Third Age trying to help the descendants of Númenor until Celebrían’s capture. From then on Mavwin stayed in Rivendell and Lothlórien until the War of the Ring.

Personality:

Mavwin goes through some pretty drastic personality changes due to the many, many events she lives through and the great deal of trauma she accumulates. Initially she is somewhat introverted, preferring to paint or to search the wild areas of Aman for more materials for her art. She is perfectly capable of acting the royal when needed, however, and has a quick temper that is equally quick to cool. She also occupies a unique place in the family as the only daughter, being somewhat coddled by her older brothers and equally relied upon by her younger brothers. After coming to Beleriand, Mavwin gains more patience and better skill with diplomacy due to what is required of her as a leader of her people. She learns some healing skills and is often called upon to heal her brothers during their years of wandering, but equally if not more often she fights alongside them. During the Second Age, she initially becomes even more introverted and develops an avoidance of other Elves due to her ostracization, and her level of avoidance and introversion fluctuates throughout the rest of her life. In the Third Age, however, she becomes increasingly subdued and somber in general due to depression, PTSD, and grief.

Fun Facts:

Mavwin’s father and mother names are Poldamíriel (Quenya, ”Strong-jewel”) and Mavoinë (Quenya, “Great Longing”). Like most of her brothers, Mavwin used her mother-name as her cilmessë and Sindarinized it upon coming to Beleriand. She also collected several other names over the millennia, such as Fund’ursul (Khuzdul, “Elf from the fires”) from the Dwarves of Belegost and Nogrod, Ukhthaz (Khuzdul, “Endurer”) from the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm, and Zôrzimril (Adûnaic, “Fire-jewel”) from the Men of Númenor.

Mavwin lived primarily as a painter in Valinor, learned as many different painting methods as she could over the years, and invented a couple of others. She can do everything from sculpture painting to silk-painting to illuminating books to actual, wet-plaster-type frescoes. She is, in fact, a massive nerd about painting, and has an encyclopedic knowledge of various materials and methods used for painting.

She speaks with a Fëanorian lisp to her Quenya.

Out of all her brothers, Mavwin was closest to Caranthir, and of her cousins Mavwin was closest to Galadriel. The split between Fëanor and his brothers also split Mavwin and Galadriel, however, and the rift wasn’t healed until late in the Second Age.

Elrond calls her mother and his children call her grandmother.

Mavwin has a palantír. She hasn’t used it since the Ithil stone was lost, however, out of caution that Sauron might have it.

Mavwin also has a memorial to her lost family members in Rivendell. She painted frescoes of all of them on its walls.

Mavwin suffers from PTSD and depression.

#tolkien OC #silmarillion OC #tolkien #silmarillion #lotr #lord of the rings #feanorians #feanorian oc #jrr tolkien #introduction post #mavwin feanoriel #dof #mavwin's backstory

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twink-with-an-agenda · 2 years

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for the character ask: maedhros, fëanor, beren <3

Thank you sm beloved you know me too well ♡

Maedhros

1. Gay as they come

2. Russingon, they are very dear to my heart

3. Him and Maglor, and ofc Maedhros Fingon Finrod friendship my beloved

4. Anyone who makes his life worse than it already is

5. He's more of an academic than an athlete, and likes to spend time indoors. He's also a bit of a polymath who is talented at pottery, painting, calligraphy and glassblowing. And probably also neurodivergent in some way, though his symptoms are of the more "socially acceptable" variety

6. Too many ways, unfortunately. I don't want to know what that says about me so let's move on

7. Uhh killing war refugees wasn't very cool :/

8. Most beloved problematic fave

Fëanor

1. Bi disaster with a preference for women

2. Him and Nerdanel in their youth, him and self reflection after the flight

3. Him and Rúmil!

4. Him and Morgoth I suppose? Or him with any of his half siblings

5. He's an excellent cook! Also are you seriously telling me this man is neurotypical?? Really?

6. We can both be stubborn and single minded

7. Like everything after the darkening

8. Problematic unfave he's a brilliant character but I want to smack him so badly

Beren

1. Straight but IMMENSE bi wife energy

2. Him and Lúthien of course! I adore them

3. Him and Finrod

4. None really

5. He's kinda bad at both singing and dancing (but lúthien loves it anyway)

6. I too am a huge simp for my beloved (hey there king 😩)

7. Mmm there's something but I can't remember it right now

8. Feral hobo cinnamon roll

#thanks for the ask beloved #maedhros #feanor #beren #ask #asks #silm #tolkien

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outshinethestars · 3 years

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A Love of Ashes, Burning (Silmarillion fic)

In after years, in days of men when elves are fading, historians looking back sometimes call Feanor a monster, and sometimes a tragic hero. Often they paint him as a father who loved his children too little or too harshly. Often they imagine he must never have been soft, must never have been quiet, that he never quite knew the correct way to love in the peace of his home.

This is a pretty lie.

Feanor loved his silmarils like the sun at midday, like a wildfire roaring, like ice that cracks stones unpityingly to pieces.

Feanor loved his sons like a father loves his children.

What other metaphor can compare to that?

With his half-brother Feanor was cruel, with his elders he was petulant, with the rest of the population he was proud and arrogant and scornful with enough skill and power and general magnetism not to be loathed.

But with his wife he was loving, with his children he was patient and kind and soft, and his laughter was quick and bright and his smiles were frequent and beautiful to look upon.

(When Feanor and Nerdanel became estranged, it was because Nerdanel estranged them. It was not because Feanor mistreated her in any way. Feanor was never a bad husband, and Nerdanel had no grudge with him for herself, but he was not a good person and in the end, Nerdanel could not love him, or more truly, could not support him if his kindness extended only to herself and her children and his father. Feanor never understood this, his children did not understand until they were older.)

When Maedhros showed no interest or proficiency with smithcraft, or indeed any other art of making, Feanor did not mind it, and was proud of his son in the quiet way of good fathers who do not demand anything of their children but that they are. When Maglor showed a talent only in music (and in that a talent never before seen among the noldor) Feanor put aside his hatred a little for the love of his son, and found for him tutors from among the Teleri and the Vanyar.

This is the texture of the past.

Can you not feel it? Can you not taste it?

It is bitter on the tongue, beyond the smoke of burning.

Truth is so much uglier, so much less kind, so much messier than the stories we tell ourselves, than the straight lines and clean threads of histories.

Feanor loved his sons well, and he loved his silmarils badly (and he loved his father jealously, because his father had loved Feanor as Feanor loved his silmarils, far too much and not nearly well enough), and he loved the rest of the world too little, and nothing of this is simple, thusly are the children of Iluvatar made.

And so Feanor swore an oath, and his sons leapt up to swear it with him. And they swore because they loved him, because their love was without ends and without limits, because that was the love he had taught to them, good love, generous love, love that Eru grants his children to give because it is the surest resonance of the eternal, most beautiful music.

Feanor’s children did not swear because they feared him, they did not swear because he had taught them not to think of themselves, they did not swear because they were cowed or enthralled, they swore because they loved.

That is the ugliness. That is the horror. That is the truth.

And in that moment, as Feanor looked at his sons with pride, he had two loves in his heart. One was his love for his sons, and it was warm and whole, and one was his love for himself and for his silmarils, and it was twisted, and in that moment the twisted love shone brighter.

This is the truth that Nerdanel knew, that neither her husband nor her sons could see until it was too late: you cannot be a good husband, a good father, and a bad person. The roads of kindness and selfishness follow different courses, and you cannot hold to one with your right foot while following the other with your left. In the end there is conflict. Feanor’s silmarils, in the end, shone for him more brightly than his children. And so he led them into ruin.

Can you not smell it, the burning?

Those historians of later days often ask, “When was the fall of Feanor?”

A fall is a gradual thing, and for Feanor perhaps it began even in childhood. But there is one moment when his fall was complete.

It was not the swearing of the oath.

It was not the kinslaying at Alqualonde.

It was not the burning of the ships.

As Feanor lay dying, he burned, and all his sons stood around him, their love as great and steadfast as the seas which never dry or drain away. Feanor lay dying with his sons around him, and he did not see them at all.

And there, in that moment, before his spirit consumed him, he saw the world as it would be, laid out in the clarity of death. And he understood how futile his vengeance was, and he saw how it would destroy his children. And his heart was filled with hate, and he cared nothing, nothing for the happiness of his sons.

He made them swear again.

Knowing that it would kill them, body and heart and soul.

He did not care.

How much farther could a father fall?

Many years later, near the end of the sons of Feanor, a child, kidnapped and adopted by two sons who knew how to love sons well, will ask, “What was Feanor like?”

“He loved us,” Maglor will say, because that is a truth and it is simple. And then he will add, “He was a monster,” because that is also nearly truth, and it is the story that the sons of Elwing and Earendil should be told.

“He was brilliant,” Maedhros will say, “He burned. I think in the end it burned out the heart of him.”

(And in the dark, when the boys are asleep, Maglor will turn to Maedhros and say, “I thought I was the one who spoke poetry.”

“It isn’t poetry,” Maedhros will say, “It is far too ugly for that.”

And Maglor will think about words and think about burning, and he will think how it is Maedhros, out of all of them, who burns most like their father. But he will think that Maedhros will burn until his heart is all that is left of him.)

#silmarillion #tolkien #fic and fic-like things #my stuff

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theelvenhaven · 4 years

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The order of which the Gondolin and Feanorian elves would allow/enjoy make up being put on them. Pleeeeaaase!!!!

Of course I can!!! ☺️ Elves usually aren’t very big on make up as far as we know BUT if the circumstances were right or if it was widely available like it for us I’m sure they’d indulge! Let it be noted that this whole answer took on a life of its own lol

Fëanorians

Fëanor - Fëanor, being who he is, is extremely confident in his appearance and his beauty and feels that it needs no enhancing what so ever. I think he would’ve absolutely experimented with it first though before deciding he didn’t need to wear it. Content with you applying a couple of different things, like eyeliner and mascara and even some highlighter. He understands the appeal but again he is confident he doesn’t need it. In turn Fëanor would absolutely apply make up to you instead, expect for subtle feature enhancing application until it comes to lipstick. Expect bold and rich colors as well as shiny and glossy gloss, he loves to smear your lipstick at the end of the day with a heated and passionate kiss.

Maedhros - Maedhros especially pre Angband wouldn’t bother with any, if you wore any of course he wouldn’t say anything. In fact he’d like the way mascara makes your lashes longer and giving the illusion your eyes are bigger. Post Angband that would change specifically in the name of concealer and foundation. Wanting to hide any scars that he could, he wouldn’t allow for anyone but himself to apply it. And he’d have no interest in anything else but concealer in foundation when the times could allow for it in the midst of his oath and war.

Maglor - Pre flight, Maglor would love highlighter and possibly even mascara! He’s a preformer, so anything that would enhance his beauty subtly would be accepted. Though he’d be averse to lipsticks and eyeliner and bright blushes. Concealer and foundation wouldn’t be necessary considering his skin is flawless. He loved it when you’d put highlighter on him and how gentle you worked with him. Post flight he wouldn’t worry about it, there’s too much happening and not enough time to indulge in such luxuries.

Celegorm - Celegorm’s version of make up would be extremely different as opposed to more classic wear and use. I think for him it would be more like face paint for the sake of hunting and blending in more effectively with the terrain. He’s completely opposed to wearing any make up other than that, and will allow you to apply his face paint. You wearing make up on the other hand is completely okay and encouraged, especially encouraging you to wear bright red lipstick.

Caranthir - Caranthir I feel like would possibly like eyeliner, not anything heavy of course. Just a subtle line around his lash lines, and he’s an expert at keeping it from running and smudging. Caranthir isn’t big on letting you apply it onto him considering it’s his eyes and is mildly fearful you’ll stab him on accident. He hates concealers and foundations and especially blushes. If you’re in a relationship and wear blush he’d find it somewhat endearing that you’d want your face to look similar to his. But if you’re big on wearing foundation and concealer anticipate him to be cold about you wearing it. Especially if you are constantly telling him how much you love his rosy face as is, he finds it completely and totally hypocritical that you tell him not to alter his complexion while you do it in turn.

Curufin - Curufin, like Caranthir, would like wearing eyeliner! Rather than wearing around his whole eye like Cara would, he’d wear it just on his bottom lashline. He’d not be up for you putting it on him at all, not so much because you might stab him, it’s just because he’s stubborn. I feel like Curufin would also get creative with his liner, wanting to possibly make his appearance look more regal and intimidating. Like Celegorm and Caranthir, he’d be opposed to anything else. As opposed to you putting any make up on him, Curufin I think would enjoy dolling you up instead.

Amrod & Amras - Amrod and Amras are still considerably much younger than their brothers and I think they would be experimental in what make up they’d wear. Even allowing you to experiment on their faces, and taking your suggestions to heart. They’d also certainly follow Celegroms lead on the face paint, considering they are hunters as well. Some days they might be more partial to eyeliner, another day blush or highlighter, or just mascara.

Celebrimbor - I think he’d take after his grandfather on this one, while he sees the appeal to wearing make up he just isn’t big on it. He appreciates the art to it and how beautiful it is, but it’s just not for him. He spends too much time in the forges anyways, sweating it all off to worry about keeping it on. He does like when you wear minimal make up as well, preferring a more natural look. Though even if you prefer a less natural look, Celebrimbor will think you are gorgeous either way. He loves you regardless of what you wear and what you do.

Gondolin

Turgon - I feel like Turgon would have mixed feelings about make up, he’d appreciate what it can do but he’d be a sucker for staying more natural. In the privacy of your chambers when it is just you two, he’d allow for subtle looks to be applied. No eyeliner or lipsticks though, and he wouldn’t wear it outside of your chambers. I think he’d have an affinity for the highlighter and heavily consider wearing it to court or doing his daily duties, but would be a little nervous about doing so. Keeping him to stay natural.

Glorfindel - He loves highlighter and blushes and maybe even some lip balm. Nothing too over the top of course, being an elf again that natural look is going to take priority. But he loves the extra sparkle it adds to his natural glow already, and he is absolutely content and relaxed to you applying the make up to him. He also loves to see you wearing make up as well, again more partial to natural looks. But he is content if you wear a little more heavier highlighter than he does.

Salgant - I don’t think Salgant would be partial to any make up at all, not wanting to stray at all from his natural look. Unlike Turgon, he would be completely adverse to you applying anything on him at all, even just to experiment and for fun. I also think Salgant would be adverse to you wearing any make up as well, wanting you to be completely natural.

Rog - Rog is very go with the flow and extremely laid back, but when it comes to make up it’s not something he will wear especially in public. It doesn’t help that he does spend copious amounts of time sweaty in the forges, and all of your hard work would wash away from the sweat. On nights when you both are goofing around, and if you ask Rog will let you apply make up to him. Even if you make it utterly ridiculous he will only laugh, but expect for the same to happen to you. The more outrageous you make him look, he will be sure to do the same to you in turn.

Ecthelion - He’s not very big on make up, preferring none at all for himself. Ecthelion feels that he doesn’t need to wear anything to enhance his features. Feeling that his features are beautiful enough, and he is adverse to experimentation to it because he knows he doesn’t need it. As for you, even if Ecthelion prefers no make up, he isn’t going to go out of his way to tell you that how he feels. If you like wearing make up and the extra confidence it gives you, he is content with that.

Penlod - Penlod feels no particular way about make up at all, I think he’d try and experiment with a little bit of everything. From more subtle looks, to a little more bold (nothing ever over the top.). He’d happily let you apply anything that you wanted to his face, wanting to see what all the looks you could come up with. Depending on how bold you go he’d wear it for the day, and absolutely would he experiment make up looks on you constantly if you allow for it.

Maeglin - Expect absolutely no room for experimentation or application on Maeglin by your own two hands for a considerable amount of time. Considering that require a great deal of trust and comfort that he would have to share with you before even letting you touch his face like that. Maeglin would probably be more partial to eyeliner and concealer. He’d like how black liner could make his eyes pop and be even brighter than they already are, probably wearing a thicker line as opposed to a thin one. He’d certainly use the concealer to hide the purple bags under his eyes from all of his lack of sleep. Maeglin would admire and enjoy when you wear make up, liking the way it makes your eyes look brighter, and the way your skin would sparkle and the way your lips would be tinted.

Galdor - Galdor prefers the simplicity of lip balm and nothing else, in fact he produces it himself! He’s not big on anything other than that for himself, being so laid back he doesn’t mind what else you like to wear. Other than that he won’t really allow you to apply much of anything to his face, save the lipbalm. He’s a simple ellon with simple tastes!

Duílin - Duilin I think would be like Celegorm and Ambarussa in the name of face paint for hunting before Gondolin was completed. I’m sure he loved the thrill of the hunt and all that entailed with it. As for make up outside of his face paint, he prefers nothing. He does however have a preference for when you wear mascara and blush, he loves the rosy color added to your face. Thinking you’re even more beautiful with it on.

Egalmoth - Egalmoth loves highlighter, and light tinted lip balm for himself. He loves the sparkle in highlighter and likes to look even more radiant especially when he is decked out in all of his jewelry. Egalmoth prefers pale pink lip balms to add a little more color to his face, and he prefers applying it himself. Though he will relinquish his control to let you do it if you asked. In turn Egalmoth also loves to apply make up to you as well. Adding extra highlighter and bolder colors of lip balm or lipstick to your face.

* * *

tags:

@lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandom-hoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring

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tar-thelien · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2(Caged Bird)

Thank you again @niphredilien for proofreading for me♡♡♡

Maglor slowly opened his eyes, still feeling drowsy.

His whole body was sore as if he had run back to the blessed realm under the night.

He moaned as he opened his eyes which were met with a blinding light. He closed them quickly and pulled the blanket up over his head.

Blanket?

Had he reached the bed after he had fallen?

The mattress dripped as someone sat down beside him.

“Master? Are you awake, Master Melkor wants you, he's not here at the moment. He told me to take you to him after you had taken a bath and eaten,” A nervous voice explained and Maglor slowly lowered the blanket to see another elf that quickly lowered their head as he looked at them.

“Who are you?” He asked, slowly getting out of the bed and seeing a new plate with fruits and oatmeal, a glass of water and a bathtub that had been placed in the middle of the room with streaming hot water.

“I'm a slave, Master… Master Melkor asked me to make sure you’re ready,” The slave explained, sounding even more nervous now.

“So he can torture me?” Maglor asked with a little laugh but a look at the others horrified face told him it was only him that had found it funny. “What's your name?”

“You can call me whatever you want, Master,” The slave answered.

“But what is your name? What do people call you?”

“Master Mairon calls me Muldur, Master,” Muldur said looking down.

“That's not a name!” Maglor said loudly and hit himself mentelly when the other flinched.

“I'm sorry Master. You can call me what you want.”

“What about Nildo?” Maglor asked, after some time of awkward silence.

Muldur looked surprised up at him, not able to hide a smile. “Thank you master for the name.”

“Please just call me Maglor,” Maglor said as he smiled at Nildo, who smiled back as they looked down at the ground again.

“Mas-master Maglor please eat something or Master Melkor will be angry.”

Maglor just nodded, not having the energy to correct Nildo.

He slowly reached for the food beginning eating then looked at Nildo’s skinny form who looked longingly at the food. “Have you eaten breakfast Nildo?” Maglor asked when he had eaten half of the food.

“No Master.”

“Here, you can have the rest,” He said and offered the plate to Nildo, who now just looked dumbfoundedly at it.

“What should I do to earn it Master?”

“What do you mean?” Maglor asked. Now it was his turn to look dumbfounded.

“I haven't done anything to deserve it master…” Maglor didn't say anything, just looked at Nildo.

“Oh… of course master,” Nildo said and pulled their shirt off.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Maglor asked as Nildo reached for his pants.

“I thought… I´m sorry master… I-”

Maglor quickly put the plate with food in Nildos hands. “Just put your shirt on again and eat, I’ll take a bath while you eat.”

Maglor slowly pulled off his shirt, shivering as he thought of what Nildo had meant.

-o0o-

Nildo led him to a big room that looked like a living room, decorated in red silk and dark tree.

There were two coaches, three armchairs and a coffee table.

The wall over for him was covered in red silks as if to make an illusion that there was a window behind it. The other walls were covered in wall paintings and the floor was decorated with a red carpet with all gold sewn into it. The ceiling was also covered in paintings and a big chandelier was hanging in the middle of the room.

A man was sitting in one of the armchairs looking over some papers.

He had long black curly hair and the crown that barely did it’s job with keeping the hair under control, shone with the light of the Silmarils.

“Master Melkor,” Nildo said and kneeled before the fallen Vala. “I brought you the master elf as you asked.”

“So you did,” Morgoth said and petted his head, to Maglors horror Nildo learned into the touch. “Get some wine for us, slave.”

“Nildo!” Maglor hissed and Morgoth looked up at him with icy blue eyes. “His name is Nildo!”

Nildo flinched as Maglor used his new name.

“I see…” Morgoth said with a small smile. “Get some wine for us, Nildo…”

Nildo shakingly stood up. “Yes master,” He said before leaving the room.

“Sit down Makalaurë and tell what you are doing here instead of your brother.”

Maglor didn't sit down only looking at Morgoth. “What of my men?” He asked.

“They are safe at the moment. Now, sit down Makalaurë, I’m not known for my patience.”

Maglor sat shakingly down as far away from Morgoth as possible.

“Well Makalaurë, why is it you and not your brother that are here?”

“I'm keeping him safe from you,” Maglor said quietly.

“I have no interest in your brother, but Mairon is quite disappointed. He had looked forward to meeting him, you see,” Morgoth explained and sat down the papers on the table showing a life looking drawing of Fëanor. “I am more interested in you.” He kept talking as he slowly walked over to Maglor who had seated himself in an armchair.

“I have heard much about your voice, as beautiful as a Maia I was once told, I never held much interest for you before you came in through my gates, then I began thinking of all the things people have told about you. If I can't have Fëanáro, I want Tyelkormo who my brother admires or Makalaurë-'' Morgoth placed his blackened hands on Maglor, slowly pressing down.

“Your choice. Should I send someone out to find Turcafinwe and set you free or should I keep you? Maybe I should just get someone to find him so I can have both of you?”

“What do you want me to do?” Maglor asked, panicked.

“Sing for me. Enlighten me. Obey me. If you can’t do at least one of them, I will find your brother and while my people would be looking after him, you can be punished with your loyal men.”

“What do you want me to sing?” Maglor croaked.

At that moment, Nildo opened the door carrying a tray with a wine bottle and two glasses of wine, setting it down on the table before kneeling down beside Morgoth who ignored him, looking at Maglor.

“Nothing at the moment. You can rest now you must be tired, I will call for you when I want to hear you sing… you can keep Nildo if you want to,” He said before sitting down again grabbing for a new paper.

“I'm your master here, and you are only a slave… it would be a shame to punish you for not calling me master, I don't know if it would harm your voice so much that you can't sing again if you should be screaming for hours without water. You can leave now, Nildo will show you back.”

Maglor slowly sat up, shaking a bit for the threats but also for the surprise that he hadn't been hurt and the fact that he had been given a slave.

He didn't want a slave!

At least he could help Nildo now.

“What instrument do you play elf?” Morgoth asked when he was almost out of the door.

“Harp mostly,” Maglor whispered and hurried out.

Muldur=slave

Nildo=friend

#silmarillion #tolkien #my fic #maglor #elf oc #melkor #morgoth #caged bird au

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arlenianchronicles · 3 years

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Hello 😊 First of all, I want to thank you for everything you do. Every time I look at your drawings it makes my day better. <3 Just out of curiosity, do you have any headcanons for Fëanor's sons personality? I read The Silmarillion a long time ago, so I don't remember if Tolkien described their personality more detail, but I only remember he wrote that Caranthir was "quickest to anger" and that he described Curufin as "being the most like his father" but that's not a very detailed description. XD

I'm not a native speaker so I'm sorry if I wrote something wrong. Have a nice day/night! 😄

Hello anon! Thank you so much for your warm words!! I’m very happy to know that my drawings make your day better, and thank you for your support! <33 And no worries, your English is great! :D

Hmm this is a tough one for me since I hardly think about the Fëanorians loll ^^;; What headcanons I do have for them were made because I was busy developing headcanons for the Nolofinwëans. I’ve posted some of those in various tags, so if anybody’s interested, I can put them in a post like this someday!

But back to the Fëanorians … The only information I have on them is from the Silmarillion (since I haven’t started reading HoME even though I have the books now ldkfskldkls). I suppose I should start from oldest to youngest hahaa But keep in mind that most of these are currently woven with my Nolofinwëan headcanons, aka how the Fëanorians behave towards them. I’ll try not to focus too much on Fingolfin’s fam here XDD

And for the sake of finding names easily, I’m going to bold each of them in case you wanted to scroll to the one you’re most interested in.

Let’s start with the Fëanorians as a family. I imagine that Fëanor doesn't generally give his sons as much affection and attention as they’d like (or perhaps need). However, Curufin is his favourite, so he spends the most time with him and showers him with lots of praise. I also think that their family would be quite the rowdy one given that there are seven brothers stuck in one house ^^;; Nerdanel must get a headache quite often!

Now let’s turn to Maedros. Some of y’all know this already, but for those who don’t, I don’t ship Russingon, so my view of his friendship with Fingon is simply that: a friendship, albeit a close and platonically loving one. Why is Fingon Maedros’ favourite, I’ve wondered? His brothers are wondering that too. I headcanon that Fingon’s company appeals to him because it’s a big contrast to what goes on at home. My version of Fingon is quiet and solemn (as you’ve seen from my art loll), but he’s also kind and gentle and compassionate. I imagine that they’d take walks through the markets, maybe with Finrod or some other, or just sit in the gardens and chat.

Maedros is also adored by his brothers and is seen as the perfect elder sibling. Not to mention the rest of the city might adore him as well, given how handsome and charming he is. I think he’d be able to shoulder the attention very well, and perhaps even enjoy it; he also returns his brothers’ love and cares for them all. But deep down, he looks to Fingon as the shining example of an older brother, a prince who cares for the people, someone perfect who can do no wrong. He admires him a lot. Perhaps that’s where half (or most) of his friendly love comes from. Does Fingon know about this? Beats me loll But if he does, it’d certainly affect him in some way (again, if y’all want those Nolofinwëan headcanons, let me know XDD)

Next is Maglor. What do I do with Maglor? He adores Maedros, yes – all the brothers do loll I remember trying to develop him for my time travel au fanfic, and I wrote him as a perfectionist. I think that’d work here: Fëanor doesn't give him and his music a lot of recognition, so Maglor believes that he must make every song perfect to prove himself and gain validation. I imagine Fëanor’s perfectionist nature rubbed off on Maglor too, which in part leads to this.

Of course, as he goes through the First Age on Beleriand, he becomes disillusioned and loses all that snobby, perfectionist stuff. By the time he’s with Elrond and Elros, he’s humble and solemn, and his songs are quiet and sad. But being with the twins and teaching them how to make music brings back that old spark -- the one that gave his music so much strength and power, etc.

Now for Celegorm. Boy oh boy. I see him as the wildest of the brothers, which could tie into his love for hunting and all. His name means "hasty-riser," so I'd imagine him as quick to be reckless and stubborn and angry etc. He loves Maedros dearly and is most jealous of Fingon, partly because Fingon is Maedros' favourite, and also because Fingon gets lots of affection from Fingolfin. Celegorm wants his father's love (or more of it, since Fëanor loves them in his own way already). He ends up treating Fingon badly, both out of anger and jealousy, and in an attempt to gain his father's approval.

I imagine this is what leads to Celegorm sticking with Curufin most of the time. Curufin is most like Fëanor, so getting his approval is likely second-best to Fëanor's, or something like that. But at the same time, Curufin isn't Fëanor; he has his own issues stemming from a desire for Fëanor's approval, and I imagine his behaviour is more insidious – rather like in the Lay of Leithian, where Curufin is whispering into Celegorm's ear and Celegorm just rolls with it.

Speaking of Curufin, I think of him as the most crafty (scheming-wise alongside metalworking). And probably the most apathetic to others' hurts or concerns. If there's nothing in it for him, and it doesn't directly concern his family, then he doesn't really care. He only truly cares about fulfilling his father's wishes and all.

Then again, I'm sure (or I'd hope) that he cares when Maedros is taken captive, but he'd busy himself with work and getting things done instead of dwelling on it. After all, Maedros must be dead after all this time, and what's the use of fretting over that?

And then we have Caranthir. The quickest to anger, as said in the Silmarillion. I imagine it's because there's not much that's remarkable about him, at least to start with. Nobody pays much attention to him, except perhaps Nerdanel and Maedros. For that reason, he'd draw closer to them, but he’s mostly frustrated with other people and especially himself. But out of all his brothers, I imagine he’s the best at numbers and figuring hahaa

Last are the twins, Amrod and Amras. I wasn't quite sure what to headcanon for them, since they seem to be the most carefree and easygoing of the brothers. I mostly imagine that they'd follow their father and brothers' example, especially with regard to how they treat the Nolofinwëans, but they're not sure about it because they don't think the Nolofinwëans are bad people (as Fëanor would paint them). Tbh I'm still thinking about the twins, and Caranthir for that matter ^^;;

So there we have it! My headcanons for Fëanor's sons. I may come up with more in the future, but this is what I have so far. Thank you so much for messaging me, anon! I hope I answered your question to your satisfaction, and I wish you a good day/night too! <333

#asks #anon ask #lmao i said i hardly think about the feanorians #and look at how much i wrote #then again there's hardly much for some of them #i spent more time thinking on fingolfin's fam and developing them #so they'd have a long post i'm sure #tolkien #silmarillion #headcanons #feanorians #house of feanor #also i was at work today #so i'm sorry i didn't respond sooner!#i ended up working on my reply during my breaks loll #meta

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ambarto · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for Maglor’s and Curufinwe’s wives

Don’t you guys just love how so many of “canon” female characters in the Silm end up being basically your own OCs? Anyways, pretty much what it says on the tin, my Feanorian wives OCs. A little bit of these headcanons are in my fic Much, more, less, nothing already, but I’m gonna expand on pretty much whatever my thoughts are. Very long post under the cut (and I sure hope the cut is working because if it isn’t this is gonna be long to scroll through).

Maglor’s wife - Vílerë

- The name for this girl is my own probably kinda sloppy work. I found in some Quenya dictionaries the word “vílë” which means “gentle breeze”, and it fit perfectly within my vision of her. The ending -rë is feminine and can denote an agental meaning, making the name mean “[girl] who makes a gentle breeze”, or something along those lines. I want to point out I have never studied Quenya at all and so this goes off entirely on various dictionaries I’ve been through.

- Vílerë is the girl’s mother-name, and it refers to two things. The first, is that she was born with very weak vocal chords, meaning her voice always sounds barely louder than a whisper. The second, is that she is also a very skilled flute player.

- Her parents are Noldor, but her grandmother is Teleri. Vílerë’s eyes are dark brown, which comes from her Teleri grandmother. Her hair is black, and she wears it long and plainly braided. Her skin is a light brown color. She’s not considered exceptionally beautiful, but not ugly, either. By Noldor standards, she’s cute, but in a little plain way, and a little on the shorter side.

- She’s a quiet girl, she doesn’t speak much. Partially it’s because of her voice, but it’s mostly just her personality. She doesn’t like drawing attention to herself, and she prefers being alone or with a few good friends rather than in the middle of a crowd. Because of this, she also doesn’t play her flute a lot in public, although she is known for being one of the best players and her music is loved by anyone who hears it. With those who know her, she’s kind and sweet, full of smiles and with a sharp wit you would not guess at first.

- While quiet and introverted, she’s got a strong will, and she will let people clearly if there is something that displeases her. She picks her words carefully, and if angry she’s good at getting her point across in the most cutting ways.

- She and Maglor met through music, and spent a great deal of time playing and composing together. She understood his more introspective moments better than most others, and she was drawn to his more caring side. She was good at getting him out of any bad mood and at humoring him when he got involved in some kind of musical competition with others; and he in turn helped her get out of her shell a little, but never tried to force her to come out on the spotlights with him. She took a liking to him from the start, although she sometimes rolled her eyes when his Feanorian pride showed through a bit too much.

- While still deeply in love, she did not follow him in exile. She did not agree with the Kinslaying, especially being part Teleri herself, and thought that it was absurd to do all of this just because of some rocks, no matter how beautiful they were. She didn’t want to leave her husband, and was also quite curious to see what was on the other side of the sea, but in the end she stayed in Valinor with her family.

- Other than music, she also enjoyed poetry and theatre. She had an appreciation for painting, but she never really learnt how to do it, and was more content with just looking at art rather than creating it. She also knew a bit about woodworking, because it was her parents’ profession, but she never really liked it. She enjoyed traveling too, and seeing new landscapes, and after marrying Maglor took her around to see all the cool places he had been to with his father and brothers.

- Some people had to say about her and Maglor marrying, because Vílerë lived in a village outside of Tirion and her family was one of the common folk. Some particularly vicious ones also complained that she didn’t look beautiful enough, but they had all learnt very well to not badmouth the beauty of the wife of someone of Feanor’s line. She was honestly more annoyed by receiving all that attention than by the negative comments in themselves, because she hated the positive attention too.

- She has one younger sister, who married before her and had two children. Vílerë herself married late in life compared to the average, although she was still a couple centuries younger than her husband. Out of her in-laws, the people she got along with better were Maedhros and Nerdanel, and she also was on friendly terms with Fingon and Finrod. While she did not have any quarrels with Feanor or with Maglor’s more outgoing brothers, she did find them exhausting in the long run, and better dealt with in small doses.

- While she grew to resent the Valar, although not as strongly as her husband’s family, when she was younger she liked to spend time in Lorien, and the quiet presence of Irmo and Este.

Curufin’s wife - Vanien

- Her name I took from RealElvish.net because I got lazy, although for some reason it’s not listed there anymore? For some reason? The closest it lists are Vanie and Vaniel, idk why they got rid of the specific one I used. Just my luck. Anyways, Vanien comes from “vane”, which means “fair or beautiful”.

- Her name says all about how she looks. She is the picture of Noldor standards of beauty. She has black hair and strikingly blue eyes, her skin is pale, and her facial features look like they could be put on a statue. She’s the kind of woman who could compete in Tirion Next Top Model, if they had it.

- Her family is entirely Noldor, going back all the way to Cuivienen, and fairly respected. They’re not nobles, but her parents are very good healers, which in Valinor mostly meant they were spectacular surgeons who could fix any idiot who had gotten attacked by a wild boar or something of the sorts. She was herself a healer, and very skilled.

- She and Curufin met though work as well. She had been developing a theory that perhaps one could enchant jewelry to give it properties that would make healing and recovery faster, and she had decided to go look for a good smith who could help her with it. It turned out making that kind of magical jewelry was extremely difficult, but she did get a husband out of the deal.

- She’s a city girl and at ease in the middle of the hustle of Tirion. She’s got a charming smile and she’s an excellent conversationalist. She’s a good girl, but she’s also got a rather competitive and petty streak, and if someone pisses her off she will get herself a nice revenge. Nothing truly bad, of course, but she’s not above turning her husband’s hair green if he acts too annoying. She’s more mischievous than harmful, however.

- Her main flaw is probably that she is a bit vain. She’s very aware of her beauty, and will do her best to flaunt it. She has excellent taste in fashion and hairstyles, and a husband who can craft her some of the most amazing jewelry one could think of. If she goes to a party, one can bet she’ll make sure to be the most breath stoppingly beautiful person in the room.

- She’s more outgoing than her husband, but she doesn’t mind that he sometimes ends up working on a project for days on end, although it does annoy her, as a wife and a healer, how he sometimes ends up forgetting to eat and rest. He often looks for her input when coming up with a design for something. Bitching about people who annoyed them is a bonding activity for them, but of course not their only topic of conversation. They like to go out on rides together, either along or with Curufin’s family. They are both ridiculously proud spouses, Vanien is extremely proud of her handsome, clever, and talented husband, and Curufin is extremely proud of his beautiful, smart, and talented wife. They’re also a good match when it comes to being stubborn.

- Celebrimbor is the only son they had, because Vanien struggled to get pregnant and carry the child to term. Sadly ironical, for a healer, and she was very protective of her son once he was born. She was a caring mother, and the kind who likes to cheer her brooding son by tickling him until he’s out of whatever tantrum he was throwing.

- Officially, it’s said Curufin’s wife stayed in Valinor, but I like to think that she came to Beleriand with him and Celebrimbor. She was a headstrong woman, who had her husband’s resentment towards the Valar and almost enough pride to match him. She did not directly participate in the Kinslaying, but cured the Noldor who had been wounded in it, and got on the ships with her family. Unfortunately, she ended up being killed in the Dagor-nuin-Giliath, and because of her rebellion she was held in Mandos until after the end of the First Age.

- She gets along well with most of Curufin’s family, especially Celegorm and the Ambarussa, and bonded with Feanor by answering all his questions about the body as well as she could. She became good friends with Aredhel, too.

#phew this was long #my headcanons #my ocs #at this point they are lmao #oc: vilere #oc: vanien #this took me a whole hour to write

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