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thelordofgifs · 1 year

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the fairest stars

What if Angrist was a little tougher, and Beren and Lúthien managed to steal two Silmarils from Morgoth instead of one? Somehow I’ve already written NINE parts of this unhinged bullet point AU here and decided it was time for a fresh post to avoid that one getting too long.

Where we left off: Lúthien has been negotiating with Mandos like a pro, Maglor is nearly-but-not-quite-dead in Menegroth, Thingol has taken one Silmaril from him, Fingon has the other Silmaril and ditched Curufin outside the Girdle even though they did some bonding on the Worst Road Trip, and people are still upset about Celegorm’s death. YES I am well aware that the pipeline from the fairly normal first sentence of the post to this mess is insane.

Fingon and Maedhros are both very, very good tacticians. Between them, it isn’t very difficult for Fingon to follow Maedhros’ directions towards Menegroth, and then to find the hidden pathways by which Huan led Maedhros out of Thingol’s halls.

It helps that Thingol is still under the impression that the Girdle is impenetrable with the aid of his Silmaril, so he doesn’t have anyone keeping an eye out for the High King of the Noldor sneaking into his realm on an Adventure.

Finding Maglor's sickroom/prison cell/whatever is a little trickier, but not impossible. Long ago in Tirion Fingon was a mischievous child, so he's well aware that the best way not to get caught sneaking into a forbidden place is to make it perfectly clear that you belong there.

He strides confidently down the corridors, silently reciting Maedhros' directions to himself. Nobody stops him.

He's hoping that Curufin was wrong, and he'll know Maglor's door by the holy light showing through the cracks; but when none is evident he's forced to take his chances and start trying doors in the area Maedhros indicated at random.

Since he has plot armour is very lucky with this whole improbable-rescue thing he comes across Maglor without any trouble.

Maglor is only half-conscious – quite apart from the wounded leg, he hasn’t eaten in days – but his eyes flicker open when Fingon comes in.

“Hello, Makalaurë,” Fingon says, deliberately cheerful. “I’ve come to take you home.”

“You can’t do that,” Maglor says dazedly. “It burned – in the Bragollach – remember?”

Fingon opts not to answer that. “Russo said you were healing when he left,” he says instead, frowning at the bloodstained bandages around Maglor’s leg. “What happened? Has Thingol been mistreating you? I thought Lúthien at least was kind!”

Maybe he was too hasty in leaving Curufin outside the Girdle.

Maglor hurries to explain that Lúthien is dead, and that he’s actually in this pathetic state by choice or something.

“Right,” says Fingon, “well, you’re coming back to Himring now.”

But Maglor shakes his head. “I can’t, Finno,” he says. “Thingol took the Silmaril from me. I don’t – I’ve been trying to hold it back. The Oath. But I can’t leave it in Doriath and go, I can’t. So you’ll have to leave me behind.” He manages a brave and tragic smile.

On Thangorodrim while Fingon was struggling futilely with Morgoth’s iron shackle, hopeless tears running down his face, Maedhros said, You’ll never be able to free me, Finno, just kill me, please—

Fingon is rather sick of Fëanorian melodrama.

“One step ahead of you,” he says brightly, and he produces Maedhros’ Silmaril from its box, handing it to Maglor before his Oath can stir at the sight of it. “Here it is.”

This would never normally work. But Maglor is very tired and ill, and not thinking as clearly as he otherwise would.

As long as the obvious question doesn’t occur to him until they get outside the Girdle again—

Maglor takes the jewel and gives a relieved little sigh as the bite of the Oath eases. “You really took it from Thingol?”

“Of course,” Fingon lies. “Let’s put it back in the box for now so that it doesn’t attract too much attention?”

Maglor acquiesces. He and Fingon aren’t close exactly, but they get on well – certainly far better than Fingon does with Curufin. There’s an odd shared camaraderie that comes from loving Maedhros; it lends itself well to cooperation in difficult circumstances.

Fingon picks Maglor up – he's alarmingly light – and they begin to make their way back out of Menegroth.

"You're to be my betrothal gift," Fingon tells Maglor, and Maglor actually laughs.

Unfortunately it's much harder to look innocuous when you're carrying someone about five minutes away from expiring on the spot.

They haven't got very far before an angry voice comes from behind them: "Who are you and where are you going with the Fëanorion?"

Damn.

Meanwhile

[I should clarify my definition of "meanwhile" here. Evidently time runs much slower in Aman than it does in Middle-earth, even post-Darkening, or it's difficult to fathom why Beren and Lúthien canonically took two years to return from death. In vague support of this, the Fellowship find that time runs slowly in Lothlórien, presumably with the aid of Galadriel's ring, so I posit that the more Divine Stuff there is near a place (and Galadriel was ofc a student of Melian too), the more weird time shit occurs. So since I've anyway fudged the timelines so that travel times work out conveniently, we can also put the bits of story occurring in Aman here for funsies.]

Meanwhile, Finrod has been following Celegorm around in the Halls of Mandos.

"Was it worth it?" he asks. "Did you take joy in the lordship of Nargothrond, once I was gone?"

"I could ask you the same," says Celegorm, responding for the first time. "Did you die for anything in the end, Ingoldo? The mortal's here, after all your efforts. So much for your oath."

"So much for yours," says Finrod; "it looks like that eternal darkness you doomed yourself to wasn't that dark. Or eternal. So what was it all for? Do you even regret any of it?"

The dead can't lie. Artifice and deception are matters of the flesh, and they are buried with it.

"I didn't want you to die," Celegorm says.

"Well, that's a start!" says Finrod. "I can't say I'm glad to see you here, either."

"O Fair and Faithful one," says Celegorm, "spare me none of your pity. They are already whispering that you will be released soon, first of all the Exiles to walk again in Aman. So it's all turned out rather well for you, despite your evil cousins' machinations."

"I suppose it has," says Finrod, thinking.

The thing is, it was worth it. Beren's life mattered. It mattered that he saved it, even if he died to do so, even if Beren is dead now too (although word is that might be changing).

He did not do it expecting a reward.

"And my werewolf was bigger than yours," says Celegorm.

Finrod rolls his metaphorical eyes. "At least I actually killed mine."

Cousinly bickering is still kind of fun, even when you're dead.

Curufin, fuming outside the Girdle, would not agree.

After a time he's forced to conclude that the only thing he can do is head back to Himring.

The ride through Himlad, once as green and fair a land as any, does not improve his mood.

Also his burned hand is still hurting.

Look: here's the little stream where Celegorm caught a huge fish once; and here are the low hills where, a couple of centuries ago, they held some war games and Curufin's people thrashed Celegorm's decisively.

Here's the copse where, years before the Dagor Aglareb brought tentative peace to East Beleriand, Curufin and his son were surprised by a party of orcs, who took their small patrol all captive.

Tyelpë was just barely of age at the time. How trusting his eyes, then, how baby-soft his hair: how easily he had believed that his father would fix everything.

As for Curufin, he spent the hours-long ordeal learning anew what terror was, rendered compliant by the mere possibility that they could hurt his child.

They were fine, in the end. Celegorm rode up to the rescue while the orcs were still quarrelling over where to take them.

But Curufin remembers: how disabling love can be.

Meanwhile Fingon finds himself surrounded by a crowd of angry Iathrim in their home city.

He sets Maglor down on the floor and sets a hand on his sword-hilt, wondering if he is about to become a Kinslayer again.

(Fingon regrets Alqualondë more than anything; and he'd do it again, for Maedhros' sake. He knows this about himself.)

Before things escalate too far, Thingol shows up at the scene of the disturbance.

"We haven't met," Fingon says. "Fingon son of Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor in Beleriand. I've come for my cousin." He gives Thingol a rather dangerous smile.

Thingol thinks he might be in serious trouble. He attempts to adopt a conciliatory tone (which is really really hard for Thingol ok he's trying).

"He'll die if he's moved," he says, nodding to where Maglor is slumped against the wall, shivering.

"He'll die if he stays here!" Fingon says. "Is this the famed hospitality of your halls?"

"He has been offered every treatment he could ask for," Thingol says. "It is not the fault of Menegroth if he chooses to refuse them. Now tell me, son of Fingolfin, how came you through the Girdle of Melian – without her leave or mine?"

Maglor puts the pieces together. "Finno, you lied to me," he breathes, glancing at the box in Fingon's hand.

Fingon wonders if it would be diplomatically insensitive to kick Thingol.

"The jewel alone does not explain it," Thingol insists. "While I hold the Silmaril my daughter won, surely—?"

"I could have told you that, had you asked," says Maglor. "Silmarils aren't weapons! You can't use one as some sort of military defence."

Thingol is now questioning all his life choices.

He only took the Silmaril from Maglor in the first place because he thought it would protect his kingdom, and now—

Maglor is feeling resigned. He should have known Fingon's claim was too good to be true. Thingol still has the Silmaril, and Maglor can't leave Menegroth without it.

Face pale and set, he attempts to get to his feet, mostly unsuccessfully.

Fingon looks down at him. "Seriously, Makalaurë?" And when Maglor ignores him, he says, "Sorry about this," and kicks Maglor's bad leg – carefully, but still hard enough to hurt.

Maglor faints.

Fingon picks his limp body up. "The Silmaril isn't yours," he tells Thingol.

"The white ships of Olwë my brother's people were not yours, either," Thingol returns.

Fingon inclines his head, acknowledging the point. "I don't wish to start a war over the Silmaril," he says. Maglor is so cold and still in his arms. "My cousins have done enough for that cause lately. Only let me take my kinsman home."

Thingol hesitates. The iron box in Fingon's hand is so close, and Fingon is outnumbered, and he has his injured cousin to worry about—

It could all be over, if he took the second Silmaril. He'd never need to worry about his people's safety from invasion again.

"Elu," comes a voice from behind him, "enough of this. Let them go."

"Queen Melian," says Fingon, bowing his head.

She barely looks at him, meeting her husband's gaze instead. "Time and again you have disregarded me," she says. "Lúthien is lost, and yet you persist with this. Will you heed me now?"

Thingol stares at her, and then, finally, he waves his hand. The bristling guards move aside, allowing Fingon free passage down the corridor.

"I trust you can remember your way out," Thingol tells Fingon, and turns away.

Fingon looks at Melian. "Thank you," he says, "and I am very sorry about your daughter."

He has met Maiar before, of course, in Valinor: but Melian is still unsettling, with her implausibly flawless face and eyes that hold yet the memory of a time before Time.

"Little king," she says, "only hope that you will not know any such pain yourself."

Fingon manages a smile. "I'm good at that," he says. "Hope."

On that note he leaves Menegroth, carrying Maglor, and begins to make the long trek back through the Forest of Region, and thence to Himring.

Curufin has managed the journey significantly more quickly. On a crisp cold morning he rides back through Himring's gates.

Maedhros has been... managing. Not well, but he trusts Fingon.

Beloved, I will bring them back to you. Beloved, I will bring them back to you. Beloved, I will bring them back to you.

But here's Curufin by himself, looking pale and tired, and after all it was only a hastily-scribbled note, not an incantation.

Maedhros arrives at the gate at a run.

Scarce weeks ago it was the other way around, Maedhros riding into the fortress with Fingon's cloak only just concealing his bloodstained clothes: and Curufin met him as he came in and he can still feel the terrible jolt of knowledge in his stomach, and Celegorm is still dead.

How can it be borne?

A thought comes to Curufin and for a moment he thinks it the cruellest idea he has ever had, but Celegorm is dead and his hand is still burned and nobody expects any better of him anyway.

"They're dead," he says flatly, "they're both dead," and Maedhros just – stares at him.

(to be continued)

#silmarillion #my fic #bullet point fic #the fairest stars #fingon #maglor #finrod #celegorm #thingol #curufin #maedhros #theme of the day: lying #thingol makes one (1) good decision!#curufin makes zero (0)!#maedhros has a really bad day!#what else do we expect from this au

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douevenbleachbro · 8 months

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IR Month 2023, day 5 prompt: Fairest

AO3: Fight With Snow White

Rated T

"Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?"

Beautiful artwork by @almightybuttcheeks

#irmonth2023 #ichirukimonth2023 #day8:fairest #fic #will I ever write an actual one-shot?#long suffering sigh #ABBY IS A GODDESS #GIVE HER YOUR MONEY!

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sleepyhead-poll · 3 months

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ROUND 1C, MATCH 2 OUT OF 16!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Roronoa Zoro:

Hobbies: working out and sleeping. Once slept through a storm that nearly sunk the ship, even when the rest of the crew was trying to wake him.

If Zoro isn't training, fighting, or drinking then theres a good chance he's sleeping (or the moss head got lost again)

this man is sleeping everywhere all the time. people trip over him and he is simply not bothered.

He can and will sleep everywhere and whenever he wants, no matter how inconvenient.

One time he slept through a storm while everyone else on the crew had to desperately work to keep the ship from sinking.

Man he’s just asleep like all the time. It’s like one of his signature things. Too tired to come up with better propaganda right now but just know he’s great. (And also very very sleepy)

i love him

he exists in three states: training, sword fight and asleep

He snorks all day around a noisy ass crew, but if anyone attacks he deflects the shot with ease. King of eepy and still super reliable as a 1st mate.

He loves naps! His favourite things to do are training, drinking and sleeping, mostly on the deck of the ship.

He’s been shown to sleep through the most absurd of weather phenomena. unbothered king. For such a driven and active guy naptime is his favorite time of the day. He can sleep anywhere and anytime. Instead of having him do cool action stuff for the show’s eye catchers they had him yawn and sleepily blink at the camera.

Sans:

I just think he's a funny little guy

It's Sans Undertale. Come on now. Jokes aside, aside from being a punny little guy he seems to make it his mission to slack off whenever. While it does border on pure laziness, this does include trying to sleep. He makes references to napping multiple times (in my memory), and even has a scene where's he's napping away while the player is running for their life from Undyne herself. For minor context, Undyne is loud and rough- And even she couldn't get Sans to wake up when she tried to get him to help her out.

#round 1 #round 1c #one piece #undertale #roronoa zoro #sans #poll bracket #poll tournament #polls #character polls #sleepyhead poll #i didn't know who i wanted to pit sans against because like. he's sooooooo popular on tumblr he is literally the tumblr sexyman of all time #so i decided that the most submitted character (zoro) was probably the fairest fight

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it-happened-one-fic · 18 days

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Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

Most believe that vampires do not exist. That their just an old tale that has been reused countless times in the forms of horror in romance. But you know otherwise. After all, vampires do have a special affection for you for reasons unknown. Delving into the world of the night is something totally different though. Especially for someone who’s been trying to avoid these creatures that practically hunt you.

But then, one step closer in the form of a vampire you accidentally befriend and the slope becomes slippery.

It’s time you learned what happens during hours in the moonlight by the side of vampires who come in the form of friends, allies, and potentially foes.

Here it is! My Twisted Wonderland Vampire AU! I hope you all enjoy!!

Vampires Don't Eat Potatoes

Getting Late

The Same Red

A Vampire Hunter or Something

Far More Charming

Shatter to a Billion Pieces

Coming Soon!

If you would like to read more fics like these, my Twisted Wonderland Master-List can be found here: Twisted Wonderland Master-List.

#Twisted wonderland fic series #Vampire AU #Vil x reader #Rook Hunt x reader #Epel felmier x reader #Gender-neutral reader #mywritings #it-happened-one-fic #Hours in the Moonlight #Fairest Midnight #twst #Twisted wonderland #Disney TW #Twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #multichapter #sfw

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vane-sya · 1 year

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To Be The Fairest One by NanFe

#my edit #to be the fairest one #nanfe #b&w #dark fantasy #dark art

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problematic-rwby-shipping-poll · 1 month

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I/NCEST BRACKET - ROUND ONE: BELLACEST VS FAIREST BEAUTY

Propaganda is below the cut.

BELLACEST

"ao3 has so much about this one, I'm convinced, every mom in this show is a MILF version of their daughters and you know Blake's into that."

FAIREST BEAUTY

"willow sounds like a jilted lover when she said weiss left her and brother I've shipped worse for less."

#rwby #problematic rwby shipping poll #blake belladonna #kali belladonna #bellacest #weiss schnee #willow schnee #fairest beauty #i/ncest bracket #i/ncest bracket round one

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thelordofgifs · 5 months

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director's cut on dearest..................

(director’s cut ask game)

fhshfhshdh ok FINE. (For context, I hinted at/threatened a ramble on the use of the word “dearest” in the fairest stars in this post.)

Maedhros has called Maglor “dearest” six times so far in tfs:

Part 3: He stands up, and then stoops to kiss Maglor's brow. “I don't want to leave you, dearest,” he whispers. “That's how I know I have to.”

Part 15: He puts his hand against Maglor's clammy cheek. "Thank you, dearest," he says softly. "I'll be back soon."

Part 16: “Should I send you away, dearest?” he asks.

Part 20: "I am sorry," he says again. "But I am asking now. Will you stay, dearest? For me?" (sooo fine and normal about this one in particular)

Part 28: Maedhros looks at him as though trying to memorise him. He rises, and then stoops to press a kiss to Maglor’s brow, bathing them both for a moment in the gentle hopeful light of the Silmaril. “I’ll come back to you, dearest.”

Part 30: Some of Maedhros’ thoughts must be showing on his face. He rearranges it into a smile, and says, “Shall I sing you to sleep, dearest?”

… just realised the phrasing on the part 3 and part 28 lines is almost identical, which was not actually intentional and is now giving me a crisis about being repetitive. IT’S FINE IT’S FINE just pretend I am a genius writer who was doing Parallels on purpose ok.

Anyway! For some reason this whole thing has become a minor brand of mine and shows up in most of my m&m fics. I do not know why, but I’m attached to it now. I do think “dearest” is an excellent affectionate nickname for Maedhros to give Maglor: it’s Tolkien-esque – that man did love his words with proto-Germanic roots rather more than he did the Romantic ones – and also, more importantly, it speaks to a very specific dynamic between the two of them. Maglor likes to be reassured that he is Maedhros’ favourite brother, and that Maedhros loves him best, I think: in Valinor he was rather jealous of Maedhros’ affections, and after Thangorodrim it has become rather more of a Guilt thing and a reminder that Maedhros still loves him after what he did. In tfs, Maedhros never uses the word when he is seeking reassurance from Maglor (it’s notably absent in parts 22 and 25, for example, as those both contain m&m scenes where Maedhros is feeling guilty and tormented and desperate for absolution from Maglor); calling Maglor “dearest” is one of his ways of casting himself explicitly in the role of affectionate elder brother, of making himself Maglor’s protector. In reality, their relationship is much more complicated than that – unfortunately for him.

But another thing the word has ended up signifying in tfs is how frightened Maedhros and Maglor are of leaving each other: and Maedhros almost always uses it specifically when he is saying goodbye to Maglor, whether because he is heading out to battle or because Maglor is minutes away from dying in his arms or because he is about to do the stupidest thing he has ever done in his life. For this reason I was Cackling Evilly when I dropped it into part 30, because it was very much directly foreshadowing Maedhros’ imminent departure, and intended to dramatically raise the blood pressure of any reader who had picked up on this.

#asks #welcomingdisaster #ask game #the fairest stars #tfs spoilers #maedhros #maglor #I put a completely normal amount of thought into this one word don’t mind me

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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 1 month

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Just wanted to thank you for sharing so many headcannons, they are wonderful ♡♡

Ah thanks! They're actually pretty fun to do so I'm glad that you guys seem to like them too! 🩷💚

#there's plenty more to do too #if anyone is curious about it the hc ones are done in the order they're asked in since that seems like the fairest way

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snakemoltsiren · 11 months

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... and Eris that rageth incessantly... She it was that now cast evil strife into their midst as she fared through the throng, making the groanings of men to wax. τῇ καλλίστῃ

#severine pictures #azem #Eris #AU: To The Fairest #my ancient HCs for Sev are a little complicated but there's only one Azem and she's AWFUL #i love her a lot tho

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