#sirion

[leucisticpuffin]

@maedhrosmaglorweek, Day 4: Heroism/Villainy

Maedhros searches a burning city for light. In the aftermath, Maglor finds two children.

#maedhrosmaglorweek #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #sirion #silm art #silmarillion art #tolkien art #silmarillion fanart

[violecov]

Maglor at the Heavens of Sirion, "meeting" elrond and elros.

(((@maellor )))

#palette game #if u argue that elrond and elros were actually 7y old when that happened #u are not right for they obviously were babies #my art #silmarillion #tolkien #artists on tumblr #feanorians #maglor #elrond #elros #elwing #kidnap dads #kidnap fam #Sirion #i know i said i would do this a loooooooooot earlier #but had some probs with it XDd #merry christmas #!!!!

[thesummerestsolstice]

Silm AU Concept that Won't Leave me Alone:

Earendil falls ill, not long after his marriage. None of the healers in Sirion– human or elven– can explain why. Maybe it's because Idril and Tuor left for Valinor recently, and no one really thinks they'll make it there alive. Maybe it's the plague that's been sweeping through war-torn Beleriand. Maybe his body is just giving up on him– it's not unheard of for half-elves to die that way.

And it's becoming clear that Earendil is dying. Nothing they do helps. Some of Elwing's advisors try to keep her away from his bedside– half out of fear his illness is contagious and half because she spends all her time there, refusing to eat or rest. They're trying to protect her from the horrible truth. It isn't working.

Elwing knows of two great sources of magic. One is her own– inherited from Melian, running far stronger in her blood than any had expected, far stronger than it had in her father. Strong enough that she's spent most of her life learning to hide it. Flowers bloom under her feet, birds flock to her side. Elwing is powerful, but she's young; untrained. She tries to help Earendil. She fails.

And then there is the Silmaril. The Silmaril's power is not like hers. It does not make things grow, or bring the birds and gentle beasts of the world to their doorstep. But it drives away the orcs, keeps the wolves at bay, cuts through the darkness, burns away evil. It is a much more violent kind of purification.

And Elwing thinks, is it not evil coursing through my husband's veins, choking his lungs, threatening to tear him away from me?

She takes the Silmaril and pries it open with a dagger, pouring it's divine light into the abalone-shell cup that Idril had given her before she sailed away. She gives it to Earendil, comforts him, climbs into bed beside him. They hold each other, whisper their marriage vows again in the darkness. When Elwing drifts into sleep, she doesn't know if he'll still be there when she wakes up.

And then Earendil wakes up with clear, bright eyes. It works. It works very well. It works so well that Elwing has to teach Earendil how to hide the new light in his eyes and the shimmer under his skin.

Elwing keeps the Silmaril hidden away after that. Some whisper that she's become obsessed with it, just as her father had. In truth, she's just trying to hide the fact that the gem has no light left. Somehow, she doubts her advisors would approve of her decision.

But she doesn't care, and neither does Earendil. They are happy, and in love. Not long after Earendil's recovery– a recovery most think was a miracle sent by the Valar– they have children. Two very strange children with sharp teeth and bright eyes who they love very much.

It looks like everything will work out for Elwing's little family, right until the day the first letter from Maedhros Feanorian arrives.

#silmarillion #silm au #silm headcanons #elwing #earendil #elrond #elrond peredhel #elros #maedhros #eldritch peredhel #sirion #crack treated seriously #what if someone drank a Silmaril? #I kind of want to write more of this is has *implications* #let the Peredhel fam be weird together!! #Elwing and Earendil are the couple of all time

[lordgrimwing]

How Elwing Lost A Silmaril

The first letter—sealed with an eight-pointed star pressed into red wax and delivered just before dawn—left Elwing trembling in her small office, stomach rolling and the taste of bile thick on her tongue. What was she to do? What could she do? Her parents’ murderers were coming here.

The letter didn’t say as much outright. The writer (Maedhros, she’d learned his name eventually, but he would always be the red-haired orcish monster that took her home away and haunted her worst nightmares) veiled every threat behind eloquent lines of meaningless placations and enteritis for the silmaril. He asked her, granddaughter of a thief, to return it to him, eldest son of its maker and rightful heir. But she could read what he did not say: that if she did not bend to his will he would do to Sirion as he did to Menegroth. He would come with his fell army and slaughter everyone in his way.

But how could she give up the jewel? It protected them, kept the forces of darkness at bay just enough for the refugees to eke out a living on the shores. And should Eärendil, her dear, brave husband, find a path to Aman, its light might be the only thing that could stay the Valar’s Doom long enough for them to listen to him. She could not give up their hope.

The second letter—sealed in red wax and delivered as the barley fields were harvested—brought more promises of horrors unnamed falling upon the settlement. She wept after throwing it in the fire. She could not do this on her own. The city council was terrified into inaction at the thought of what lay before then, and Eärendil was still out at sea. She missed him. She missed him so terribly when the councilors looked at her with fearful eyes and asked for her decision.

The fifth letter arrived in the hands of an underfed Mannish girl as the first winds of winter blew in from the sea. Elwing gave her food and a family offered a spot in their home, but the girl said her lord instructed her to go nowhere else until she had a reply for him. Elwing thought of banishing her from the city unanswered, of telling the guards with their rough-made weapons to see that the Fëanorian did not return. She regretted the thought nearly as soon as she had it. The girl was young and it was not her fault that her parents joined themselves to a mighty Elf lord. She could stay for a day.

Tell me whatsoever you desire, the greatest or smallest need of your heart. 

The letter said in handwriting that was fast becoming too familiar. 

I will give unto you that thing and greater still if you would part with my father’s Silmaril. I would bring you all the provisions of my camp, all the weapons of my army, every other precious thing of power left in this land if you would but willingly part with that one small thing that I must otherwise be driven to take by force in the spring. Tell me your desire, and I will give it unto you. Let this not end with blood.

She fumed in her office, angrily pacing the thin rug gifted to her by the weary-eyed wife of one of her father’s guards who fell in the tunnels of Menegroth. She does not need anything from the murdering bastard! Sirion has all it requires. They would be safe if only they were left alone. How can Maedhros think that he could ever give her anything to make up for what he’s done, to convince her to do what he wants? He’s a monster and a coward who wishes to soothe his conscience by acting as if the attack is all her fault, an inevitable consequence of her resistance. He wishes to absolve himself of yet more evil.

She will not let him. If it is the only thing she can do, she will defy him.

Elwing takes up precious ink and paper. She throws herself into her chair and leans over the beaten desk, pouring her anger and helplessness into the words she scratches across the page.

You’ve taken everything from my people. You wish to take everything from me again. You are monstrous, servant of Morgoth. May the Valar stand against you as I cannot. What would I have, you ask? I would have what you’ve taken from me restored: I would have Dior, my father, and Nimloth, my mother; I would have Eluréd and Elurín, my brothers, alive again and in my arms. But I shall never have them for they died at your hands and at your command.  You cannot give me my parents. You search for my little brothers but still cannot give them to me.  So, what would I have? I would have your brothers. Give me your two youngest. I have lost my twin brothers for this gem. You must do the same.

She signed the bottom with a vicious strike that split the quill’s nip, blotting the page with ink as dark as orc blood. Her heartbeat in her chest, thumped against her ribs under her breast as though it would escape fate. Her letter would change nothing and she hesitated for a moment before dripping wax from a flickering candle for the seal, tempted to throw the paper to the fire. 

She’d written in a tantrum, a final kicking of her feet against what would come in an impotent rage. But what did it matter? Did she not deserve to beat her fists against the Doom once? Everyone looked to her for leadership and guidance as Dior’s heir but she felt like little more than a child. This would be so much easier to handle with Eärendil at her side but he still had not returned and at times she doubted he ever would (what Doom had befallen him on the waters? What lonely fate for him and the crew on the waves?). She would send this letter then say goodbye to all childishness and face what came bravely as her parents and grandparents did. 

Resolved, she dripped the wax and sealed the letter. She’d give it to the messenger tomorrow with what small food they could spare so the girl did not starve on the journey. And then…

And then all would be out of her hands and fate would fall as it would.

The sixth letter came in the hands of two red-haired Elves on tall horses. The men sat straight and tall in the saddle, their heads held high. Elwing would have called them haughty if they hadn’t dismounted and bowed deeply before her, falling to one knee as one might before royalty. A third Elf, dark-haired and somber-eyed, rode with them, though he kept himself aside and astride his steed.

“Queen Elwing,” one of the red-heads said, his face fire-scarred. He paused, waiting for permission to go on.

She nodded and waved her hand impatiently, wondering what new trick Maedhros was playing or if this was how he announced an impending slaughter.

The speaker went on, looking up slightly though he stayed kneeling. “We are Ambarussa–” he gestured to the other– “youngest sons of Fëanor. We give ourselves up at your request in exchange for the silmaril.”

Elwing stood in frozen silence as he continued, icy sea breeze biting at her fingers and face. 

#the ambarussar are hers now i guess #will this change everything or nothing? #i have my ideas #maedhros is the worst of the sons of feanor actually because he will justify doing anything for a silmaril #crack fic #but i'm treating this crack seriously #elwing #amrod #amras #maedhros #ambarussa #elwing's ambarussa au #grimwing writes #the silmarillion #the silmarils #sirion #third kinslaying #(except it doesn't end up happening now)

[swanmaids]

Sorry I’m so sorry but I’m going insane about the Havens of Sirion again. Like. Do you get it. It was a refugee camp at the end of the world. It’s rulers were two refugees who also happened to be the only peredhil in the WORLD. The Falathrin dialect of Sindarin mingled with other Sindarin dialects at Sirion and became the common tongue for all elves throughout the second and third ages. It was probably the most diverse place in Beleriand, with Gondolindrim, Sindar, Noldor, groups of the Edain and Druedain living there. It was a place where art and history were recorded by at least Pengolodh and Dirhaval, and where art was lost when Dirhaval was murdered. It was a place of collaboration, working with Balar. It was a place where beautiful things were made, like Vingilot itself. DO YOU CARE

#my post #sirion

[aotearoa20]

Gondolindrim fleeing to Sirion

#tuor x idril #tuor #idril celebrindal #earendil #fall of gondolin #sirion #silmarillion #tolkien #moodboard

[meadowlarkx]

grief and pride - embroidery for @tolkienekphrasisweek day 4, Gardening & Landscape Architecture! I was thinking about memory and how Elves might tell of particular places in adornments on clothing (imagining both of these designs on sleeves.)

First: Years of the Trees Fëanorian ornamentation, reminders of the Gardens of Lórien where Míriel lay, with Finwë's crest.

Second: Late First Age or Second Age Iathrim ornamentation, reminders of Menegroth and the First Kinslaying.

welcome to 'more photos and rambles at length'!!

Working on these little guys for a while I had time to think a fair amount about them. The concept of being literally clothed in one's sorrows feels very Elven and Tolkien to me. It's something about the long years and accumulating griefs, laying claim to and embodying them (powerful!), and the accompanying actions and grudges, and it's a thread that runs through both these groups. Fëanor is one of the first in the narrative to have this sort of memory/shadow on his heart, that of Míriel's passing. I love the similarities and connections between him and Míriel and the way she haunts the story, so I really enjoy the idea of Fëanor (and his sons!) reminding everyone of her absence subtly or unsubtly at every chance, including with their clothing--a mark of family loyalty which is also a nice fuck you to Indis and her children. Lórien is lush and verdant with golden flowers and mountain immortelle, don't @ me silvery tolkiengateway descriptions. I wanted this one to feel bright and vivid to echo the noontide of Valinor and the family's pride and brilliance. Finwë's crest got included in the design partly because it's less complicated than Fëanor's crest (shh), but also because I can completely see Fëanor making a(nother) claim to heirdom by wearing it.

Then of course he sets in motion greater horrors to remember. I am always thinking (@swanmaids has a great post about this) of the support Elwing canonically has in Sirion for her decision not to relinquish the Silmaril. And after seeing the 2nd kinslaying, it had to be a difficult, brave, potentially very controversial decision to hold on to it, but people are with her on this--I imagine motivated partly by real anger and grief over all they had lost and insistence upon memory, pride, dignity, identity etc. which probably remain with the few who survive the Sirion kinslaying too. And remembering Menegroth's beauty goes hand-in-hand with the grief--so I went for a bleaker look here, not the deep forest I usually picture (the 2 green vines, though, symbolizing in my head the surviving royal family/Peredhel!). This design being more of a picture of the place and less "abstract" was an attempt to gesture towards some cultural and stylistic differences in art, etc. I know this one isn't exactly a garden, but if we squint all of Doriath is an enclosed garden, so...!

Also here are the other pics. I'm imagining them bigger, but they are pretty little in real life!

#tolkien ekphrasis week #TEW Day 4 #silmarillion #silm #miriel #míriel #feanor #fëanor #doriath #sirion #elwing #etc etc. #i mean--i was thinking of thranduil full disclosure but #thranduil and maglor <3 dressing up the barbies... but ! #embroidery #my art #my posts #the silmarillion #menegroth #lórien #estë #este #feanorians #peredhel #there i think now i've captured every possible tag lmao #those are birch & sycamore on the doriath one! i don't know anything about ecology i only know colors #proudest of the little needle and thread for miriel

[nothinghereisworking]

Elros & Elrond by @lycheesodas 🥰

Commissioned for my fic Memories, Like Grains of Sand 

After the War, Elros and Elrond return to the remains of Sirion and look back on their early lives there.

Lycheesodas captured the quiet intimacy of the scene perfectly - somewhat sad but not without hope, looking back but also looking forward. I love it so much!! Thank you!!! 🥺💖

#elrond #elros #sirion #beautiful #tolkien fanart #🥰

[camille-lachenille]

Something something, Sirion being a multicultural settlement in a war torn Beleriand. Something something about scattered cultures merging into one another to create a new one, languages shifting into a mix-and-match common speech. Something something, the third Kinslaying wiping out the last of certain folks.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #sirion #third kinslaying #half-baked ramblings by a sleep deprived tolkien fan

[finrod-feelagund]

You know how the healing ability lessens the more an elf kills? What if maglor felt it dwindling but amras is the one he finally cannot save (where once he would’ve been able to)

#the silm #doodles #silmarillion #maglor #amras #sirion #3rd kinslaying #tw blood #tw death

[aureentuluva70]

I'm not sure if this has been talked about before, but I'm gonna talk about it regardless because it has completely blown my mind. I first discovered it on a reddit post, which you can read here.

In the book The History of the Hobbit, John Rateliff suggests that the Wilderlands of The Hobbit is actually the Beleriand of Tolkien's early mythology as it was written during the 1930's, only taking place ages after the War of the Jewels, since the later ages and maps of middleearth hadn't been created by Tolkien yet. Keep in mind that at this point in Tolkien's writings, the breaking of Thangorodrim was nowhere near as bad as it would later turn out to be. Beleriand never sank into the sea, but it was still drastically changed.

Here are two maps drawn by Tolkien during the 1930's, one of Beleriand and the other of the Wilderlands found in the Hobbit:

In terms of similarities, one of the first things I noticed(and one of the most obvious) was the river Sirion and the Great River of the Wilderlands. The name Sirion literally translates to 'Great River'.

In the middle of the path of said river is the Carrock, which is where the Eagles set Bilbo and Company down after saving them, and the way it is described in the Hobbit reminds me a lot of this illustration Tolkien made of Tol-Sirion:

"But cropping out of the ground, right in the path of the stream which looped itself about it, was a great rock, almost a hill of stone, like a last outpost of the distant mountains, or a huge piece cast miles into the plain by some giant among giants."

-The Hobbit, Queer Lodgings.

AND it is also uses very similar wording to how the Lay of Leithian describes Tol-Sirion(Tolkien was working on the Leithian around the same time he was writing The Hobbit):

'An isled hill there stood alone/ amid the valley, like a stone/rolled from the distant mountains vast/when giants in tumult hurtled past'

-Lay of Leithian.

There's also the mention of "a little cave, (a wholesome one with a pebbly floor) at the foot of the steps" which the person in the reddit post suggests could be the remains of the very same dungeon where Finrod, Beren, and their companions were imprisoned by Sauron after their disguises were stripped away. The same place where all but one of them were slowly devoured one by one. The same place where Finrod died.

Above it at the top of the Carrock would be where Finrod was buried, and the "Ford of huge flat stones [that] led to the grass-land beyond the stream" could be the remains of the broken bridge that was destroyed by Luthien: "the hill trembled; the citadel/crumbled and all its towers fell/the rocks yawned and the bridge broke/and Sirion spurned in sudden smoke."

The "two Mirkwoods" is also a big one. I always found it odd that there were two completely different forests sharing the same name, but at the time Tolkien wrote it, they weren't seperate at all, but the exact same forest, just changed and grown over thousands of years in between the events of the Silmarillion and The Hobbit. The same forest that Sauron fled to after the fall of Tol-in-Guarhoth. The same one Beleg found Gwindor in after his escape from Angband.

If they really were intended to be the same forest at the time Tolkien wrote it, it also answers the question I had earlier regarding this part in the Leithian when Sauron flees Tol-in-Guarhoth:

A new stronghold? We never hear anything about this in the Silmarillion, of Sauron building a new stronghold in Taur-nu-fuin, and it puzzled me when I first read it. But that's when I realized that this "new throne and darker stronghold" was talking about none other than the fortress of Dol Guldur itself, Sauron's stronghold within Mirkwood.

(Not lying, I was pretty proud of myself for figuring that one out)

Oh, and the Lonely Mountain? While it doesnt appear on the 1930's Beleriand map, it would likely be Maedhros's fortress of Himring itself, or at least the mountain it was built on top of, as Himring is located east of Taur-nu-fuin just about in the same place where Erebor is located. Just the thought of the Dwarves' home being within the very mountain that once had Maedhros's citadel atop it has my brain going wild. (Oh, and the fact that the arkenstone was found within the ancient hills of what was once Himring, fortress of the elf lord who threw himself into a fiery chasm with a silmaril? Coincidence? I think NOT)

There are plenty of other similar locations between the two maps, and judging by them both Eriador would be Hithlum/Aryador, with the Misty Mountains being the Mountains of Shadow. The Withered Heath would be the Anfauglith, the Eagle Eyrie would be the Crissaegrim, and the Iron Hills are what's left of Nogrod and Belegost. I've even heard that Mavwin/Morwen's house could be the roots of Rivendell.

Overall, it's so, so cool and it has my mind running wild. It really makes me see The Hobbit in a whole new light. We all talk about the amazing stories that came out of the Hobbit aka Lord of the Rings, but seeing where the stories of the Hobbit came from just adds a whole other level of depth to it all. This is why I love Tolkien's works so much. It's all so incredibly deep and rich and it just gets better and richer the deeper you go, and there's so much of it. It's one of those things that you just rarely get tired of, and even if you do, you're bound to come back to it later and I love it.

#Tolkien #Silmarillion #Hobbit #Lay of Leithian #Beleriand #Wilderlands #Lotr #Erebor #Taur-nu-fuin #Mirkwood #Lonely Mountain #Sirion #Finrod #Beren #Luthien #Maedhros #Sauron #Tol-Sirion #Tol-in-Guarhoth

[velvet4510]

#elrond and elros #elrond #elros #lotr #jrr tolkien #lotr books #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #tolkien legendarium #first age #sirion #half elves #peredhil #elrond peredhel #elrond half elven #elros tar minyatur #elwing #lotr poll

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Elwing Aesthetic

For @halfelvenweek before it finishes

#silmarillion #tolkien #moodboard #aesthetic #sirion #halfelvenweek #elwing #Earendil

[thesummerestsolstice]

Continuation of the "Earendil drank the Silmaril AU"–

TW for the Sirion kinslaying and Elwing's attemped suicide

Elwing's advisors encourage her to be strong, not to give the Silmaril to the Feanorian murderers. Of course, none of them know that she couldn't hand it over, even if she wanted to. She tries not to think about what would happen if the Feanorians saw the empty shell of the Silmaril, drained of light. She tries not to think about what they might do to Earendil, if they found out the light lives within him now.

She doesn't really have any options. She cannot give them the Silmaril; she will not yield her husband to the monsters who killed her parents. She encourages Earendil to go on another of his voyages. She tells him that she's confident the Feanorians won't have the guts to actually attack them. She's lying. The day after he leaves, she makes plans to evacuate all those in Sirion who aren't ready and willing to die there.

Not long after, she receives another letter, one that practically radiates anger. That night, she holds her children– her wonderful, sweet children who have feathers behind their ears and starlight at their fingertips. The next day, she plans to have them sent away from Sirion. She knows it won't be long now.

She's still not ready, when the Feanorians come. There aren't many people left in Sirion. There aren't many Feanorians left either. But the fighting is fierce, all old hatred and festering pain. She'd hoped to have another day– just one more, to hide the remnants of the Silmaril. When Maedhros sees her carrying the cracked orb, wrapped in fabric, she knows it's over.

Maybe he can tell, even through the fabric, that something is wrong with the Silmaril, maybe he can't. Either way, he runs after her with burning eyes and a his oath on his lips. She's not quite sure where her feet are taking her until she finds herself at the cliff's edge. She turns, stares out at the stormy sea. When she looks back, there is something almost like horror on Maedhros's face, but all she feels in an eerie calm.

She thinks about her children. She hopes they made it out alright. She hopes they'll find someone else to look after them, when she's gone.

#silmarillion #silm headcanons #silm au #elwing #earendil #maedhros #elrond #elrond peredhel #elros #eldritch peredhel #sirion

[thelien-art]

The Third Kinslyaing

Elrond and Elros´ first meeting with Maglor; inspired by chapter six of my kidnap fam fic "Looking For Light In Darkness" in a flashback.

Noldor Braids HC

#trying to get better at perspective #... #first meeting wasnt the best i dare say #tolkien #jrr tolkien #silmarillion #maglor #makalaure #kanafinwe #elrond #elrond peredhel #eldritch peredhel #elros #elros tar minyatur #third kinslaying #sirion #digital art #silm art #my art

[metatomatoes]

At the seashore, thinking about how Elrond and Elros lived by the sea their whole lives, the sound of the sea a constant background. Until the 3rd Kinslaying, and the seashore was no longer their home. What if they had trouble sleeping without the sound of waves hitting the shore? How quiet and dreadful the woods of Beleriand would have seemed before they got used to it.

#elrond #elros #kidnap fam #sirion #silmarillion