animatorweirdo
animatorweirdo
The library of a bird
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animatorweirdo · 6 hours ago
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Hunted
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In panic, you and Maglor quickly set out to find the twins. Lost in the woods, Elros and Elrond find themselves chased by savage wolves.
Warnings: panic, cursing, the twins getting chased by wolves, violence as the wolves try to eat them, injuries, burns, one creature gets killed, and comfort.
Chapter 9
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You paced back and forth, struggling to stay calm. After noticing your bag open, you discovered the twins had taken your map and dagger. It didn’t take a genius to figure out how they had escaped—or where they were most likely headed. It was also clear they had made it outside, as none of the guards had noticed their escape, which only intensified your growing panic.
“Shit, shit, shit!” you cursed aloud.
“My map is gone, my dagger is gone, and since no one noticed their disappearance, the chances are the boys are already outside and somewhere far,” you said. 
“Dear God, this is my fault!” you exclaimed.
Maglor watched you anxiously pace. “Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have possibly known this would happen,” he tried to comfort you.
“No, it is my fault,” you said, stopping to look at him.
“Earlier today, Elros tried to convince me to escape Amon Ereb since Elrond got better. I said no and dismissed the idea—and now they’ve taken matters into their own hands,” you continued, your voice tight with guilt.
“I told them the outside is filled with monsters. But it looks like they didn’t listen,” you said. “God, they could already be in danger,” you whispered, the image of the twins alone in the dark gnawing at you.
“How could I be so stupid?!” you cursed at yourself before rushing out of the room. Maglor followed you.
Once outside, you ran across the courtyard.
“I have to go after them. If I had to guess, they’re heading toward the nearest village—or some path they think leads home,” you said, making a beeline for the stables.
“I can assemble a search party,” Maglor offered.
“No.” You stopped and turned to face him. “If we come looking in a big group, they’ll likely get frightened and hide. It’s better if I go alone,” you said and entered the stable.
“You can’t just go by yourself,” Maglor argued.
“Well, you’re welcome to join me,” you said as you grabbed the saddle and threw it over Donna’s back. “But I’m going now,” you added, reaching for her harness.
Maglor hesitated for a moment before moving to open the stall to his horse and retrieve the riding gear.
As the forest night grew darker, Elros and Elrond had taken cover inside a hollow tree. The wind picked up speed, rustling the leaves and branches with eerie sounds that only heightened their fear. Elrond trembled as the cold crept beneath his cloak.
“Don’t worry. If we wait until morning, it’ll be easier to find our way back home,” Elros tried to comfort him.
“We should never have left in the first place,” Elrond whispered, shaking his head and sniffling, his eyes dry from crying.
“We’ll get home. I promise. Maybe we’ll even find Ada,” Elros added, trying to stay hopeful.
Suddenly, a loud sound echoed through the forest.
“What was that?” Elrond whimpered, the two of them falling into a tense silence.
A large creature emerged into their view. It looked like a dog—a big, mean-looking dog. Its teeth were long and razor-sharp, its hide was dark as the night, and its eyes looked like they glowed eerily red. To the twins’ horror, two more similar dogs appeared, their deep, growling voices rumbling through the air. One of them began sniffing around. 
“Quickly,” Elros whispered, pulling his brother back.
One of the dogs approached the hollow tree and peered inside—finding it empty.
The twins were running through the forest.
“What were those things?!” Elrond cried, breathless with fear.
“I think they’re wolves!” Elros shouted back as a chilling chorus of howls echoed through the trees behind them.
You and Maglor galloped on the road, following the small footsteps you had found on the ground and using a lamp to light your way. You were relieved the ground had been moist for the past weeks; otherwise, you would have had no tracts to follow. 
Eventually, the trail led to the edge of the forest. Just then, a distant howl echoed through the trees.
“Shit…” you silently cursed.  “They just had to go somewhere where they’re most likely to get eaten by wolves!”
You spurred your horse forward, riding into the woods with Maglor close behind.
The wolves chased after them.
The twins ran as fast as their legs could carry them, but the dense underbrush and uneven ground made it nearly impossible to outrun their likely hungry pursuers.
Elrond tripped on a root, accidentally dragging his brother down with him. The two tumbled down a steep hill, scraping against sharp bushes and landing hard on jagged rocks.
“Ow!” Elrond whimpered, clutching his leg in pain once they came to a stop. Elros turned to him in alarm—it looked like Elrond had injured his foot. Running was no longer an option.
Panic rising, Elros glanced around frantically as the howls drew nearer. Then his eyes caught sight of a small hollow beneath a tree—just large enough for them to crawl inside and hide.
“In there!” Elros shouted, helping his brother crawl into the hollow beneath the tree. They barely squeezed inside before the wolves caught up, snarling and clawing at the narrow opening that separated them from the elflings.
Elrond screamed in terror as the beasts tried to dig their way in, dirt flying and paws scraping wildly at the roots and earth. Elros pulled the dagger he had taken from your bag. Positioning himself in front of his brother, he pointed the dagger at the savage beasts that tried to eat them. Despite being ready to defend his brother, Elros's arms trembled, and tears streamed down his face. He now wished for nothing more than for you to appear and save them.
On the forest road, you were calling out to the twins. You had found your map abandoned on the ground near the path, proving the twins were in the forest and urging your search because now they had nothing to find their way out with. 
“Elros!” you yelled 
“Elrond!” Maglor called with you as you had been looking around. 
You two then froze when you heard Elrond’s terrified scream. 
The wolves were ferociously forcing their head through the hole, barking and snapping as they tried to snatch the elflings. Elros shielded Elrond behind him, both trembling and in tears. When one of the wolves got too close, Elros jabbed the dagger into its snout, causing it to yelp and pull back. But then another wolf lunged forward, sinking its teeth into Elros’s arm and yanking him out of the small cave with brutal force.  
“Elros!” Elrond cried as he watched his brother get tossed to the ground. 
Elros cried in pain as his arm was bleeding from the bite mark. He backed away in terror when the wolves turned their attention to him. Tears streamed down his face as the wolves growled and licked their teeth, ready to eat him. 
Bursting out of the bushes, you shouted and swung the torch wildly in your hand like a madman, forcing the wolves to back away. You kicked one in the face and struck another with the torch, the flame flaring from the lamp oil you’d used to light it.
The wolves growled and barked as you stood protectively between them and the elflings.
You growled back at them.
One of the wolves lunged at you, but you were quicker—slamming the torch into its face. The fur on the wolf’s face ignited, causing it to yelp in pain and thrash backward. 
Another wolf tried to attack from your blind spot, but then Maglor emerged from the shadows, striking it down with a single, clean blow.
With one wolf dead and another writhing from its burns, the rest retreated, deciding the fight wasn’t worth it.
You kept shouting, brandishing the torch until they disappeared into the woods. Only when the darkness fell silent did you turn our attention toward the elflings. 
It was a good thing wolves were still afraid of fire despite Morgoth’s corruption that had made them violent. 
You stared at the twins, relieved to see them alive, yet angry and worried at the sight of their wounds. You fought to keep your emotions in check, especially when you noticed Elros starting to sob, clutching his bleeding arm.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” you said gently, kneeling beside him. You dropped the torch to the damp ground and pulled him into your arms as he broke down. The little elfling’s weight brought you to sit on the ground as he clung tightly to you.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” Elros hiccuped between sobs.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. They’re gone now,” you whispered, holding him close against your chest, your hand gently stroking the back of his head.
You glanced over at Elrond, who had curled into Maglor’s arm after the latter helped him out of the hollow. The older elf looked at you quietly, his expression soft despite the lingering tension in the air. The wind rustled through the trees, filling the silence with a faint chime.
“They’re gone,” you repeated softly to Elros as he continued to cry.
In that moment, all you felt was relief.
Thank the gods—you’d made it in time.
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animatorweirdo · 1 day ago
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The Weight of Memory
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You experience a depressive day when you cannot stop thinking about Camilla. At nightfall, you and Maglor have a peaceful conversation about the past. The twins, meanwhile, attempt to escape Amon Ereb.
Warnings: mentions of you being sad, a little argument between you and Elros, Elrond crying, you and Maglor have a peaceful exchange for once, and the twins running away.
Chapter 8
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Let’s say the day that followed was a depressing one. Elrond’s condition had improved, so that was good news. There was now a high chance his fever would be gone by tomorrow. It was likely due to the care you gave him, but he also seemed to possess a strong immune system, allowing the fever to stay mild compared to the fevers you saw in the village—perhaps quirks of being a half-elf and half-human. Camilla would have definitely taken notes since so little is known about half-elf and half-human hybrids, or Peredhels, as you learned there was a term for them.
Yeah… Camilla. She has been on your mind.
Even though you told yourself it would be best to forget about her and move on, it seems like it was just too impossible not to think about her. Her absence has become like a constant spot in your life, reminding you of what was missing. You had been together since you first came to her family, and now, she was just… gone. Taken by time or by whatever shadow that lingered in the dark corners of Beleriand.
You nearly accepted that she was gone, but your visit to the village led you back to her, to Sirion, to the kinslaying, and Maglor. Why did it have to be Sirion? Why did it have to drag you back to that terrible night?
Sometimes, in the quiet, you silently wish you had never gone there at all.
“(Name)... are you okay?” Elrond’s soft voice suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts.
You turned your head toward him as you lay on the couch. “Hm? I’m okay, Elrond. I’m just thinking.”
“It’s just… you look so sad. You’ve been staring at the ceiling with a distant look on your face,” he explained.
Then he suddenly looked like he realized something. “Are you getting sick? Has the fever gotten to you now?” he asked, placing his small hand on your forehead.
His innocence was enough to bring a small smile to your face. You gently took his hand and sat up. “No, Elrond. I’m not sick. I’m just a little sad.”
“Why are you sad then?” he asked.
“I just miss someone. Someone I haven’t seen in a long time,” you answered.
“(Name), now that Elrond is better, we should make our escape,” Elros suddenly said.
You sighed. “Elros, sorry, but we can’t leave now.”
“Why not? With Elrond better, there should be no issues. We just need to find the right moment,” Elros questioned. “And then even you don’t have to feel sad anymore,” he added. 
You thought about how to answer.
“That’s really sweet, Elros. But the reason we can’t leave is that it’s dangerous outside. And the nearest city is far away. We wound’t make it without facing trouble,” you explained. “There are… monsters who move even during the day and night, some even I can’t defend against,” you added.
“So, this place is currently the safest place possible,” you said. 
“How? How is this place safe?” Elros asked, his expression twisting with anger. “This place is filled with elves who’ve hurt people. They’re monsters too!”
He looked at you sharply. “They’ve been making you cry yourself to sleep, haven’t they?”
You were taken aback. You had been certain the twins were always fast asleep—safe from seeing those moments.
“You’ve been awake during the nights?” you asked softly.
“Yes! I heard you come back and cry so many times during the night,” he said. “They’ve been hurting you too, haven’t they?”
“No… not in the way you think,” you replied. “I’ve just had a few bad nights, that’s all.”
“That’s why we should leave! Why would you stay with people who make you cry? I’m telling you—they’re evil!” Elros insisted.
“You just have to trust me on this, okay!” you snapped, your voice rising without meaning to.
“I will never trust them—especially him!” Elros shouted, clearly meaning Maglor. “He hurt my naneth!”
“Elros!” you said sharply, but the tension was broken by a quiet sob from Elrond.
Both of you turned to look at him. He seemed on the verge of tears.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, softening your voice.
“Please don’t fight…” he murmured.
“I’m sorry,” you said gently. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” You reached out to comfort him, and Elros also slowly calmed down.
“Listen… the situation is a bit complicated,” you said gently. “If we leave, Maglor and his people would likely come after us. You’re valuable to them, and I don’t want to put you at risk.”
“We could go to your friend, like you said,” Elros replied.
“I know, but like I said, the nearest city is far away. My friend lives even farther, and travel these days is dangerous because of the monsters outside,” you explained.
“If you're worried about them hurting you, I promise I’ll keep you both safe. That’s why I didn’t leave,” you added. “So please… try to get used to being here.”
“Okay…” Elros muttered under his breath.
You glanced at him, a little suspicious—he looked like he wanted to argue again but held it in. You decided to accept the rare moment of peace.
“Thank you,” you said softly.
“I’m going to get some air,” you murmured, standing up and leaving the room.
As you walked through the open corridors, you glanced outside. The weather was grey and cloudy, as usual. You could tell that winter was only a few months away. Your thoughts drifted to Camilla and your life in Himring.
Life had been good—your work was fulfilling, occasionally chaotic thanks to your elven friends, and you shared dinners where you introduced Maglor to different foods from your world. Despite the cold of Himring's hills and the dangers of the north, it had been perfect for you.
You remembered those nights vividly—gathered together, laughing, enjoying food, trying to recreate songs from your world. One of those nights, you’d accidentally discovered that Maglor was allergic to one of the ingredients. It had led to an emergency trip to the healer’s wing, which ended in laughter when even Maglor admitted he’d had no idea he was allergic to something.
Your thoughts then drifted to a pizza recipe you had refined together. Camilla, despite her usual insistence on healthy meals, had a soft spot for pizza. It became a regular part of your shared dinners, and you could still recall the recipe by heart.
You began to wonder if the kitchen here had the ingredients you needed. With that thought, you made up your mind and headed toward the kitchen. 
Inside his chamber, Maglor’s thoughts swirled, mostly about you and the conversation you’d had last night. You weren’t entirely wrong about the slim chances of finding Camilla, but seeing you so tired and hopeless didn’t sit well with him. He then remembers the angry look on your face when you called him a coward who made excuses for himself.
You were right—he had been a coward, and he knew all too well that you didn’t tolerate people who made excuses for their actions.
He had opposed the kinslaying, but he said nothing. And he paid the price with the loss of his brothers. Perhaps if he had spoken up, Amras might still be alive, and you would have had a chance to find your family.
This thought weighed heavily on him, filling him with even more guilt for your misfortune. It felt like the Valar were punishing you, letting you live only to witness the worst of the world.
You had every right not to trust him. Why should you? He hadn’t even hesitated to place his sword near your neck, even though he didn’t know it was you.
It was one of the reasons he had kept his distance from you and the children—mostly you—because he couldn’t bear having threatened you of all people. But even with the distance, the rift between you seemed only to grow.
Perhaps he should stay away, for your peace of mind.
But the very idea of staying away from you gnawed at him. Before that day when you left Himring, whenever he was free from his duties, you two were nearly inseparable. His love for you had only grown since you began courting; even a small glance of you on his busiest days was enough to brighten his spirit.
Now, things were like this. A small part of him rejoiced that you were alive, but he was also burdened by heavy shame.
How could he show himself to you after you had seen him at his worst?
But… Maybe… just one look of you and he’ll stay away from you. 
Maglor got up and left his chambers.
After reaching the room you shared with the twins, Maglor stood hesitantly behind the door. Slowly, he opened it. Through the dim light, he saw the twins peacefully sleeping, the sight warmed his heart—he had always adored children. His eyes then fell upon the couch where you usually slept, but it was empty.
Curious, he closed the door quietly and began to wonder where you might have gone at this late hour.
“Do you know where (Name) is?” he asked the passing servant.
“I last saw her headed to the kitchen,” she answered and continued her duties. 
The kitchen? Maglor wondered and began making his way toward Amon Ereb’s kitchen area. 
He walked down the stairs and noticed the light spilling from the kitchen. The smell of flour filled the air, and he wondered what you were making. You cooking and baking in the middle of the night wasn’t unusual to him; he knew it was your way of coping with stress and sleeplessness.
Entering the kitchen, he saw you working the dough with your hands. Nearby were vegetables, spices, and some cured meat you’d managed to find. You stopped when you noticed him standing there.
You stared at each other quietly for a moment. 
“I started craving pizza, so I asked the cooks if I could use the kitchen for the night.” You broke the silence while continuing to knead the dough. 
“Do you want a slice?” you asked. 
In the twins’ room, Elros picked his head off the pillow, looked around, and then softly began to shake his twin awake. 
“Elrond. Wake up…” Elros silently said. 
Elrond mumbled in his sleep before waking up and looking at his brother. “Elros, what is it?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. 
“We need to get going. I have an escape plan,” Elros said as he jumped off the bed and took the covers. Elrond jumped off before he could fall off the bed. 
“What are you going to do?” he asked. 
“Remember that one time when we tied our bedsheets together and used them as a rope to leave the house so we could go to the beach?” Elros asked. 
“Yes, naneth was very upset about that,” Elrond nodded. 
“Let’s do that again. We can climb out the window to one of the roofs and then use the water pipes to climb down,” Elros explained. 
“Alright, but what about (Name)? And what about the monsters that lurk outside?” Elros asked.
“They probably brainwashed her—that’s why she made no effort to help us get out of here. And there are no monsters; she probably just said that so we wouldn’t try to leave,” Elros explained confidently.
“Now, help me with this!” Elros urged.
Elrond hesitated but then helped his brother tie their bedsheets and blankets into a thick rope, which they then threw out the window.
Maglor sat near the table, slowly helping to cut the vegetables for the filling. The atmosphere in the kitchen was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You thought about the previous night and how you had acted.
“Maglor…” you began, pausing. He looked at you.
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I spoke to you when I came back from the village,” you said.
“You don’t need to apologize…” he replied, looking away.
“No, I do. You might have been responsible for the kinslaying at Sirion, but… you’re not responsible for what happened to Camilla,” you said. “And I spoke rather accusingly toward you. I don’t think that was fair, especially when you had nothing to do with it. Sirion was just… bad timing and bad luck.”
You sighed. “I guess… when I thought I had a chance to find her and then hit a dead end, it got me… agitated.”
“I understand,” Maglor said with a subtle nod.
You thought about her as you looked at him. “I miss her…”
“I’m not used to being on my own for this long. She was always part of my life, and now… she’s suddenly gone,” you said.
“She was a quick thinker and could always come up with a solution when things got complicated,” you added. “And beneath that judgmental face, vexing voice, and obsession with dark coffee, she was the most loyal and kindest person I knew.”
Maglor softly nodded.
You looked at him, tears threatening to fall. “Even after my death, she still tried to find a way to free me from this curse—or at least do something so no one else would have to endure a life like mine,”
“Perhaps…” Maglor said gently, “That was her way of finding purpose in life. She was quite broken after your death.”
“Now I'm kinda curious if she ever succeeded, but where would I look for a woman who had been last sighted seven years ago?” you questioned. 
“You could perhaps try the dwarves on the high road. They have a long memory of those they have crossed paths with, or maybe you could ask a favor of that friend of yours,” Maglor suggested. 
“Maybe, Melui did mention he had some connections,” You thought of the idea. 
You then sighed, rubbing your eyes, the tears threatening to fall from your eyes again. “fuck,” 
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you confessed. 
“Everything is upside down, and this… whole thing with the twins… just feels wrong, and I don’t know how to work around it,” you continued. 
“I feel like… I might end up making a decision that could only lead to disaster,” you spoke, the doubt thick in your voice. 
Maglor looked at you sympathetically. “I understand how you feel… but you have given excellent care to the twins. Perhaps you just need to have faith in yourself,” he replied gently.
You nearly scoffed at yourself. “Last time when I made an independent decision, and had full faith nothing was gonna go wrong, I ended up getting shot in the chest by a shotgun,” you remarked bitterly. 
“God, I was an idiot back then.” 
The twins jumped down onto the grass after climbing down the water pipe. They wore their cloaks, and Elros carried a map he had taken from your bag. Elrond looked hesitant as he stared at the dark, cold world around them.
“Elros, I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said.
“Come on. We’ve got to move,” Elros replied.
“What about (Name)?” Elrond asked.
“We’ll come back for her later,” Elros said, pulling his twin along.
Under the cover of night, the twins secretly slipped away from the fortress.
After rolling the dough into a round, flat base and adding the toppings, you slid the pizza into the oven and prepared two cups of tea. Then, you sat down with Maglor to wait for it to bake.
For the first time since arriving at Amon Ereb, your thoughts weren’t consumed by the kinslaying or everything else weighing on you.
You glanced at Maglor. 
“Did you regret any of it?” you asked. 
Maglor thought to himself, his eyes holding a distant look. “I regret everything. If I had raised my voice, then perhaps I could have prevented the death of my brothers,” 
“What stopped you?” you questioned. 
“Morgoth was winning, we had lost many of our people, you were gone, Camilla was gone, and my brothers were willing to do anything to reclaim at least one of the Silmarils. I felt too hopeless to speak out, even when I knew it was wrong. The death of my brothers was the price I paid for my silence,” he said quietly.
You felt a flicker of sympathy. He looked utterly defeated.
“And now Amras is dead too,” you said.
He only nodded as you took a sip from your tea.
“What has Maedhros been doing these past few days?” you asked, hoping to shift away from the heavy subject.
“He’s been staying in the study and his chambers most of the time, trying to maintain the fortress and what little we have left. He’s also been drinking more lately— even far enough to go into drunken stupor,” Maglor replied.
“He's been drinking himself drunk? Does he cause trouble in that state?” you asked, slightly worried.
“No. He stays in his chambers when he’s drunk, but he can be unpleasant if you try speaking to him,” Maglor answered.
“Well, people who drink away their misery tend to be either the most pitiful or the most unpleasant when drunk,” you said, and he nodded in quiet agreement.
“It’s strange…” you murmured.
“It doesn’t feel like sixty years have passed. It feels like just yesterday, Maedhros was trying to coax me into trying different wines, telling me I was too young and needed to ‘live a little’. I think he unintentionally tried to get me drunk that day,” you said, chuckling at the memory.
“Though, technically, it was my fault for being willing to try…”
Maglor smiled faintly. “He always did have a sweet tooth for different wines to savor. It’s a shame—he’s either gotten careless or simply stopped caring.”
“Or that I saw Amras only a week ago,” you added quietly, “cracking those inappropriate jokes and laughing at his own absurdity.”
Maglor nodded, his expression unreadable.
“It makes me think about our current twins. I feel for them. They’re scared. They shouldn’t be here,” you said softly.
Maglor remained silent.
Beneath the darkened sky, the twins wandered along the dimly lit road. Elrond clung fearfully to his brother’s cloak, flinching at every sound that echoed through the forest. The strange noises made him shudder and glance around nervously.
“Elros, do you even know where we’re going?” he asked, his voice tight with fear as the sounds grew louder, almost painful to his ears.
“Hush! I’m trying to think,” Elros snapped, stopping to study the map he had taken from your bag. Though his enhanced sight allowed him to see in the dark, the thick forest and moonless sky made it difficult to get his bearings. The wind tugged at the map, making it even harder to read.
“This way,” Elros said at last. “If I remember correctly, there should be a village nearby. Maybe the villagers can help us get home.”
He led Elrond deeper into the woods. Elrond hesitated. A bad feeling twisted in his gut, as if something unseen was watching them. But unable to stay behind alone, and unsure what to say, he followed his brother in silence.
You and Maglor were quietly eating slices of pizza after it finished baking. The comforting blend of spices, meat, and vegetables helped clear your mind, and for once, the conversation flowed smoothly between you.
“Not exactly how I used to make them, but it definitely helps with the nerves,” you said.
Maglor nodded in agreement.
A silence followed as you drifted into thought. What could you even say?
“Could we…” You began, prompting him to look up. “...somehow make this work for the twins?”
“They haven’t been in direct danger here, but it feels like we’re punishing them. You kind of robbed them of everything they’ve ever known,” you added.
“I don’t know,” he replied quietly.
“I’ll admit... I considered taking them and running on the first chance,” you said. “But after what I saw out there, I thought this was the safest place for them.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right about that,” Maglor murmured.
“I tried to explain they’d be safer here. Who knows what horrors they’d face if they tried to leave on their own,” you said, your voice tinged with guilt.
Beneath the forest canopy, where the darkness was thickest, the wind picked up, causing the trees to sway and cast shifting shadows around the twins. Elrond glanced about nervously as the sounds of the night grew louder. He could hear crickets chirping, flies buzzing, the hoots of owls, and the screeches of bats. Together, it all sounded like eerie, twisted laughter.
He was scared. Deeply scared. It didn’t help that he kept catching glimpses of flickering eyes in the shadows—watching.
“Elros… we should turn back. We should never have left on our own,” Elrond whispered, tugging on his brother’s cloak.
“We’re not turning back! We’re close—I know it!” Elros insisted, squinting at the map, but the darkness made it nearly impossible to read.
“Just admit it—we’re lost! We’ve been wandering too long!” Elrond’s voice cracked with fear.
Both froze as a sudden rustle came from the bushes nearby. They stared, breath held, hearts pounding.
Elros glanced down at the map again, but it was useless in the pitch black. His chest tightened with helplessness—until his ears picked up the faint trickle of water. A stream.
“I hear something—water!” he said suddenly, hope sparking in his eyes. He dropped the map, grabbed Elrond’s hand, and pulled him along. “If we follow it, maybe it’ll lead us out. Like how rivers lead to the sea!”
They rushed toward the sound and followed it eagerly through the underbrush.
But the stream ended in a small, stagnant pond—no current, no path, just still water surrounded by silence.
“No, no, no! This can’t be it!” Elros repeated, fear and despair etched across his face.
“Where even are we?!” Elrond began to sob, his voice trembling.
Elros stared down at the map, but the darkness made it impossible to see a thing. He then looked around at the looming forest, swallowing hard. He didn’t want to admit it, but they were lost—horribly lost. A deep ache settled in his chest as he wished you were here with them.
Maglor walked you back to the twins’ room after cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftover pizza slices.
“You know, this is the first decent conversation we’ve had since all the angst and despair,” you remarked.
“Well, I can’t blame you for not wanting to talk to me,” he replied.
“And I’m grateful you gave me some space to think things through. I do feel anger and disappointment for what you did, but what’s done is done. There’s no undoing it now,” you said.
“If I had known you were still alive, I would have made more effort to free you from the ice,” he said quietly.
“I was convinced I was dead too. The chances of me surviving were so low, so there was no way you could have known I was still alive,” you answered. “I’m here now, and I can only try to make the best of the situation,” you added as the two of you arrived at the twins’ room.
“Thanks for walking me back. I really do not know how to feel about this situation, but thank you for giving me company,” you said. “It helped me feel less depressed about Camilla,” you added.
“I’m glad if it helped,” he said. 
“I think I sent a letter to Melui—to see if he can find any clues about Camilla. I think for now I will focus on helping the twins settle,” you stated. 
“Would it be too big of an issue to give the twins some freedom to move around? I think it might do some good than let them stay in one room all the time,” you asked. 
“Not at all. If you think it would help the twins feel more comfortable around here,” he replied. 
You nodded.
“Goodnight. I hope you rest well,” you said as you walked into the room.
“Rest well,” he answered, and you closed the door behind you.
Maglor sighed, feeling a certain joy and relief after talking with you. The gap between you had been agonizing, and he was glad to have eased some of your pain about Camilla.
He turned around, ready to return to his chambers. 
“MAGS!” 
Maglor turned back as you slammed the door open and looked at him with panic in your eyes. 
“The twins are gone!” you exclaimed. 
“What?” His eyes widened. 
“The boys are gone! There’s a rope made from bedsheets hanging out the window, and I didn’t see them anywhere outside!” you exclaimed, pointing toward the room. Maglor stepped forward and saw the open window with the bedsheet tied to the foot of the bed, swaying slightly in the night air. But there was no sign of the twins.
You both stood frozen in horror at the thought of the twins being outside alone in the middle of the night.
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animatorweirdo · 2 days ago
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The Village of the Sick
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After getting your hands on ginger and helping Elrond get better, you set out to fulfill your promise to Itham. At his home village, you learn a few things about Camilla.
() = Quenya
Warnings: mentions of fevers, some guy being an ass, a little bit of violence, cursing, sass talk, mentions of sick people, angst, you not feeling good at the end of the day, and a tough exchange between you and Maglor.
Chapter 7
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As the two days went by, you cared for Elrond diligently. You ensured he drank enough and ate nourishing food, while also keeping his temperature steady. Elros was eager to help, making the task easier. The coneflower did its job in keeping Elrond stable while you waited for the ginger to arrive. As soon as it did, you immediately made juice out of it and served it to Elrond. 
One benefit of growing up in a family that strictly passed down herbal medicine knowledge was learning how to make remedies and juices that were good for your body.
Too bad you didn’t have honey to soften the sour taste, but Elrond was brave in drinking it, grimacing slightly at the bitterness. Still, his fever decreased, and he started to look much better.
While he rested, you decided to brew the remaining ginger root into a refined juice, planning to save it for later. Gledhril and Linnoril allowed you to use more of the ginger roots, as juice lasted longer in storage. You also chose to fulfill the promise you had made to Itham and his daughter by preparing a full bottle for them.
You had told Linnoril and Gledhril about the encounter and your promise to bring medicine. Understanding your desire to help, they allowed you to take extra medicinal herbs with you in case there were other sick people in the village.
The two agreed to check on the twins while you were away. After informing the twins about your plans for the day, you went to get Donna from the stables and packed your things into the saddlebag. Linnoril helped you pack the herbs while you explained what to do with Elrond’s fever.
“When you check on them, you want to check Elrond’s temperature. If it’s barely warm to the touch, he’s getting better. If it’s hotter, keep the cold towels against his forehead to drop the heat and give him the heated ginger juice,” you explained.
Linnoril nodded. “Alright,”
You glanced at the wrapped herbs. “Thanks for letting me take some extra stuff. Are you sure you’re fine with me taking this?” you asked.
“It’s fine. Gledhril and I believe you’ll find better use for it anyway,” Linnoril said.
“Yeah, but it’s good to have this stuff just in case, since these days have become more unpredictable,” you said, placing the wrap into the bag.
“Alright. I think I’m good to go,” you stated. 
A guard suddenly approached you. “Hey, where do you intend to take that much herb with you?” he asked. 
“Just visiting a patient. Nothing else,” you answered.
“And do you have permission to take this much?” he asked, or rather demanded.
“Sadros.” Linnoril caught his attention. “It’s okay. She has our permission to take some herbs with her. It’s not against the rules to treat a patient outside Amon Ereb,” she explained.
“Maybe. But these are darker times, and supplies are not easy to come by these days. We are obliged to prioritize our own well-being,” he said. “So we can’t just spend supplies so casually.”
You turned toward him, annoyed. “Then you’d be happy to know that I won’t be spending these herbs casually. I’m going to use them to treat a child, one child.”
“And where is this child supposed to be?” he looked at you rather glaringly. 
“That’s none of your business,” you replied with a glare of your own.
“Then I have to report this to our lord,” he said.
“Go ahead. I’m sure your lords are very interested in the actions of one human,” you said, stepping toward him, “How one human is possibly stealing herbs and using them to treat sick people that are not in Amon Ereb. I’m sure that sounds very suspicious,” you said with a sarcastic tone. 
Linnoril quickly came between you. “Cut it out! Both of you. There is no need to fight about this.” 
She then turned toward the guy. “Sadros. If it's such an issue for you, I can explain this to our lords myself. And these extra herbs are near expiring, so we decided to let our friend make use of them before they go bad,” she said. “That way they don’t go to waste,” 
He seemed calm enough. 
“Yeah, unless it's really important to raise an issue on already expiring herbs,” you commented.  
He glared at you. “I have seen you here. Do not think you can idly do whatever you want, human,” he said. 
“Yeah, yeah, how about you go back to your post and do guarding and shit?” you questioned as he turned around. 
“(Human wench…)” you heard him mutter under his breath. 
You frowned, your temper turning into anger. He tried to raise trouble about goddamn herbs, and now he dared to talk shit about you in Quenya. You knew resolving things with violence was not a good option, and that you should just ignore and move on. But honestly… You do not feel like letting that guy get away with it today. 
Linnoril looked at you as you approached the guard. 
“Hey, asshole,” you said, and when he turned around, you sucker punched him in the face. 
Linnoril gasped when you sent the first punch. 
The guard grunted, backing away. He then looked at you, clearly pissed off, and attempted to attack. You dodged his throws and then pushed your arm around his shoulders, using your weight to throw him over your shoulder. Grabbing your feet, he caused you to slip and fall to the muddy ground with him. The people around you looked at you two as you wrestled on the ground. 
You wrestled yourself free and prepared to send another punch to his face, but then Maglor appeared on the steps of the stairs. 
“(Halt!)” His voice echoed through the courtyard, nearly piercing your ears. 
You and the guard looked at him before releasing each other and standing up from the ground. 
“Seize this ridiculous fighting,” Maglor stated. 
“But my lord, this woman was the first to initiate the fight,” the whiner guard tried to explain. 
“Well, perhaps you should not have tried to talk shit about me in a language I speak, (you long-eared bastard),” you spat in Quenya. 
“Enough! Sadron, just let her be. If there is no greater harm being done, then do not try to involve yourself in her business,” Maglor ordered. 
“Yes, my lord,” the guard, Sadron, uttered under his breath, sending you a glare. 
“And (Name). Please, do not start fights among my people,” Maglor looked at you, his tone much softer. 
“As long as your people know how to keep their mouths shut and mind their own business, I will. But if they’re gonna bark and try to get a bite out of me, I will bite back,” you replied, then returned to Linnoril and your horse. 
Maglor sighted, looking after you as the situation was dispelled. 
“Was that really necessary?” Linnoril asked after you got back to her. 
“Well, the guy was being an ass. And I didn’t feel like letting him get away with it,” you said as you got up on Donna’s saddle. 
“Still… I think it would be wiser to avoid confrontations, especially when there’s no need for them,” Linnoril said. 
You looked at her. “Alright. I’m off. I might come back in the afternoon; if not, I’ll most likely stay overnight somewhere,” you stated. 
“Very well. Safe journey,” Linnoril replied as you clicked your heels and rode through the gate.
Following the map, you traveled to the woods where Itham’s village was supposed to be located. Since you had been busy taking care of Elrond, you had kind of forgotten the exact location. It took about half an hour to reach your destination.
The forest was slightly dark and gloomy, unlike the forests of Doriath, but more welcoming than the infected woods that covered most of Beleriand. Your horse snorted as you arrived at the village entrance. The village was quite small. The huts did not look like most elven houses you had seen. Some were built around trees, while others were built on top of trees. It was interesting to see a treehouse built by elves. You also wondered what they used to heat their hearths since Sindar elves were very against harming trees — maybe fallen branches or dried-out dead trees?
The residents of the village looked at you skeptically as you rode past. Itham had said that they kept the village’s location hidden most of the time, so they likely weren’t expecting you.
An elf standing near what seemed like a pavilion, and who also appeared to be in charge, looked at you with caution and slight suspicion. You saw other elven warriors and hunters sitting at tables beneath the pavilion, so you guessed they were responsible for the village’s security.
“Who are you? And what is your business here?” the elf asked in a commanding tone.
“My name is (Name). I came to deliver some medicinal herbs for Itham and his daughter Alynna. He told me he lived here,” you explained. The elf glanced at another elf, who left the pavilion and approached one of the houses. 
Itham then stepped out of the house, looking slightly confused. When he saw you, his face lit up.
“(Name), you made it!” he exclaimed. 
The elf and the others relaxed as Itham approached you.
“Hey, Itham. How’s Alynna?” you asked, pulling out the ginger juice bottle from your bag and handing it to him.
“She’s been more stable thanks to the herbs you gave me,” he replied, taking the ginger juice bottle. 
“One bottle of ginger juice. I already refined it with extra ingredients that should really kick Alynna’s cold. Just heat it up and give it to her, “ you instructed. 
“Thank you,” he bowed his head. “I get on to it right away,” he said, and went back to his house. 
You looked around the village as the leader elf spoke. 
“I must apologize for my tone of voice. Itham mentioned of your encounter and promise to bring medicine for his daughter. I must confess that we didn’t have much hope that you would uphold your promise. Hope and genuine trust are hard to come by these days,” he explained. 
“No problem. Considering other things happening outside, I can understand why you would not trust easily,” you replied. 
“My name is Eldrin. I am in charge of the village’s protection,” he introduced. 
“Like I said, my name is (Name), (Name) (Lastname),” you replied, then looked around the other elves. 
“Are there other sick people in the village?” you asked.
“There are many who have been afflicted with fever and severe colds—strong enough to keep them bedridden,” Eldrin answered.
“Well… before I left, some friends of mine were kind enough to give me herbs for later use,” you said, showing the herb wraps. “I suspected there might be more sick people in your village, so if you want, I could take a look or prepare some medicine for them.”
Eldrin looked genuinely surprised. “That would be very kind of you. What would you want in return?”
“Oh, I want no repayment,” you replied. “Well… unless you have peppermint, ginger, or any extra herbs you’re willing to part with.”
“Like a trade of sorts,” you added.
Eldrin nodded. “I believe we have some we can give in return.”
Another elf appeared beside him. “Annael here can show you the sick,” Eldrin said.
“Excellent. Let’s get to it then,” you said, dismounting your horse.
With the village’s local healer, you checked on the sick and brewed medicine from the herbs you had brought. Annael seemed a bit perplexed by your techniques, which were unfamiliar to him, but he was also inexperienced with illnesses common among humans. Perhaps your knowledge of basic human ailments gave you an advantage.
Several hours passed as you treated the sick. You even checked on Itham and his daughter, who looked much livelier after drinking ginger juice. After caring for all the patients, you visited the pavilion, where they were willing to offer you some drinks.
“I think that’s the last of it,” you said after taking a sip and a break.
Eldrin then approached you with a couple of wrapped bags.
“We thank you for your help. Since these woods are rich with peppermint, we gathered two bags for you,” he said.
You took them eagerly. “Thank you. Having a good stock of these will help me out of many possible situations in the future.”
Eldrin looked at you. “If I may ask, where have you learned such a way of healing? It’s not the most common method,” he inquired.
“I grew up in a family that used this kind of healing practice. To them, making sure this knowledge wouldn’t disappear into history was important. It has actually helped a lot when medicine in my homeland became extremely expensive. I wasn’t blood-related to them, but they made me learn some things as well,” you replied. “I then worked as an assistant to my adoptive sister, who was the real medical genius. We even managed to create some new medicines for common illnesses.” 
“I then learned enough to become a certified healer myself,” you added.
Eldrin nodded. “This sister of yours—what was her name?”
“Camilla,” you replied.
After a few seconds of silence, he said something you never expected.
“Camilla Fawnridge?”
You stared at him, slightly stunned to hear her full name from his lips.
“You know her?” you asked. 
“She came by our village some years ago and treated our sick,” Eldrin began. “She taught us how to grow herbs known to treat our illnesses. Unfortunately, Morgoth’s stain has reached these lands, and we became sick once more, unable to grow the necessary herbs,” he explained.
“And how long was this?” you asked. 
“Seven years ago,” he answered. 
You felt down by the answer. Such a long time. But if it was just seven years ago, then there was a chance she might still be alive. 
“Did she ever mention where she would go next, or where she had been before coming to your village?” you asked. 
“I don’t remember if she ever mentioned her next destination. I do recall her saying she came from Sirion before arriving here,” he answered.
You cursed under your breath. There was little chance of finding anything if you went to Sirion, especially if there was no one alive who could have known her.
Damn… Why did Maglor have to attack the one city that might have held clues about her?
“Did she ever mention why she was traveling, or if she had a goal she wanted to finish?” you asked. 
“Let me think…” Eldrin said, seemingly trying to go through his memories before looking toward you. “I remember her mentioning something about a cure, or that she was seeking a cure for something,” he said. 
“What kind of cure?” you asked curiously. 
“I think it was something about spirits… removing a spirit from a body,” he answered, and then it seemed he had a lightbulb lit above him. 
“Now, I remember…  she had lost someone dear to her many years ago, and that this person was afflicted with a curse that had no cure. This person lost their life before she could find the solution to free them from the curse, so she decided to continue finding the cure even when this person was long gone. If not for the person, for the people inflicted with a similar situation. She said it was the last thing that drove her in life,” he revealed.
“Oh, Cami…” you uttered, your heart aching. To think she would still look for a way of releasing you from the Wendigo’s curse even after your supposed ‘death’. 
“I’m sorry…” Eldrin said after noticing your downcast expression. “That’s all I can tell you about her. She wasn’t the most talkative person. And I doubt she’s still alive—she was a human at the peak of her age,” he explained.
“No, it’s okay. You’ve told me more than I knew,” you said, getting up.
“I think I need to get back to check on some people,” you added.
“You have been very kind, Lady (Name),” Eldrin said, bowing his head.
“Just call me (Name). I’m not one for formalities—and it’s the least I can do in these darker times,” you replied, grabbing your bags and preparing to fetch your horse.
“If I can offer any clue about Lady Camilla… she did mention heading east as her next destination. There might be a chance she visited the elven settlements there,” he added.
“Thanks… I’ll look into it when I have the time,” you said.
“Take care now,” you murmured. 
“May Varda’s stars watch over you,” Eldrin said as you mounted your horse and rode out of the village.
Your mind wandered deeply as you trotted through the gloomy forest. Disappointment and sorrow weighed heavily on your heart as you thought about Camilla. You had learned so much—yet somehow, nothing at all. She might have visited other elven cities, but what real chance did you have of finding anything about her?
Despite your somber mood, you returned to Amon Ereb before nightfall. You checked in with Linnoril and Gledhril about the twins; they assured you that all had gone well, even Elros had behaved calmly.
Slowly, you began making your way to the twins’ room, exhausted both physically and mentally from the weight of your thoughts about Camilla.
As you reached the top of the stairs, Maglor appeared once again.
 “(Name)?”
“What?” you replied, standing in front of him.
“About what happened earlier…” he started.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t start fights among your people. I got the message,” you said tiredly, rubbing your eyes.
“Did… something happen?” he asked, noticing your sour mood.
“Nothing to worry about. I’m fine,” you replied.
There was a moment of silence between you.
“I… heard that you left Amon Ereb to treat a Sindar child,” he said.
“Yeah, that’s right. So what?” you asked.
“Should I not have helped them?” You frowned.
“No. No. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Maglor replied.
“Then what is it? Did Sadron or Sad —whatever fuck his name was— complain about my use of the herbs again?” you asked. 
“No. There was nothing wrong with you taking the herbs, especially those nearing expiration,” he said.
“However, he made one valid point,” he said, looking at you. “(Name), you might be free to use the herbs as you need, and I trust you don’t use them casually, but we do need to ensure we have enough medicinal herbs for ourselves,” he explained.
“Then you’ll be happy to know this wasn’t just a casual visit. I actually learned something about Camilla,” you revealed.
Maglor looked at you, now surprised and curious. “What did you find out?”
“Apparently, she visited the village seven years ago and treated their sick,” you said.
“That’s… wonderful. Seven years isn’t too long ago, so there might be a chance she’s still alive,” he said with a hopeful tone.
“That’s what I thought too, except for one issue,” you said. “I learned she went somewhere east, and the last place she visited before the village was Sirion,” you added. He fell silent.
"Considering what you did last time, I’m afraid there’s no point in me going there,” you said. “I might not have seen the aftermath of your attack, but I suppose I don’t need to doubt that anyone who could have possibly known about her is still alive," you said.
"So... I think it might be for the best to move on and forget about trying to find her. That’s better than disappointing myself,” you said, ready to leave.
"But... if she went east, there might still be a chance she’s alive,” Maglor said.
You frowned at him. “What chance does she have of surviving in a land like this?” you asked.
“Taken, she’s three years older than me, with our seven years of relationship, and my over sixty-year-long nap in ice. If my math’s right, she’s already in her nineties. Resourceful or not, she might have already passed away from old age or some illness," you said.
“She might have been stubborn, but even she had her limits,” you added and began climbing the stairs. 
“You won’t know unless you see it for yourself. You’ve never been one to quit so easily,” Maglor said, and you stopped. You weren’t sure why, but his remark filled you with anger.
“You’re one to talk,” you uttered, turning toward him. “You've never been a coward or afraid to say no to things you opposed—yet you still committed two of the most terrible kinslayings in this world’s history. And you never made excuses to protect your actions,” you spat at him.
He looked startled and, almost instinctively, cast his eyes downward, avoiding your gaze.
“So, how about you actually think before doing things that only bring grief to others?” you asked. His body stiffened, as if you had struck him with a knife.
“Goodnight,” you said, turning away and leaving him standing on the stairs.
As you walked down the corridor, tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Your heart felt heavy with grief as you reflected on everything. Now, you wished you had never gone to that village.
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animatorweirdo · 5 days ago
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Question for anons and followers
I might be slightly bored, especially with real-life things going on. But I've been thinking. If the reader's character in each of my series had a name, what would it be?
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animatorweirdo · 14 days ago
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The Language of Hands
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With Elrond becoming feverish, you go on an herb hunt to get what he needs. You end up meeting an elf father and his sick daughter. Later in the day, you have a talk with Maglor.
() = Sign language
Warnings: Elrond catching a fever, some bad luck, a bit of angst because you have a rough talk with Maglor.
Chapter 6
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The day began as simply as possible, except the thing you worried about happened sooner than expected.
“(Name). Elrond doesn’t feel so well,” Elros said as the two approached you while you were lying on the couch.
“What’s wrong?” you asked as you sat up.
“My head hurts, and I feel constantly cold,” Elrond explained, holding a blanket around his shoulders. His face looked flushed, and you noticed a scent of sweat coming from his skin. 
“I also had a hard time sleeping last night,” he added.
You observed his condition, noting the symptoms. It looked like a fever. Then you placed the back of your hand against his forehead. His skin felt hotter than it should.
“Looks like you caught a fever,” you stated.
“Is he going to be okay?” Elros asked worriedly.
“He’s going to be fine. Fever isn’t deadly. But he will need plenty of rest and water to stay hydrated,” you replied.
“Elros, how about you help him onto the bed? Make sure he stays warm,” you said. “I'll go tell the servants to bring some broth, towels, and warm water to help with the sweating,” you added.
“Okay,” Elros nodded.
“Good. I’ll check the healer’s wing to see if they have herbs to make fever medicine,” you said, getting up.
After helping Elrond onto the bed and having Elros on watch, you left the room and instructed the servants to bring broth and a warm bucket of water with towels. Then you headed to the healer’s wing, where you found Linnoril and Gledhril sorting medicine bottles.
“Hey, Glenny, Linny, do you have any ginger? One of the twins caught a fever, and I need it to make a drink to calm it down,” you explained.
Linnoril looked at you apologetically. “We’re sorry, but we’ve been out of ginger for two days now,” she confessed.
“Do you then have peppermint or sage?” you inquired, and they shook their heads.
“Do you at least have chamomile?” you pressed, and again, they shook their heads.
“We’re truly sorry,” Linnoril added gently. “We’re out of them, and the ones in the herb garden aren’t in full bloom.”
“Our new supply will come in two days,” Gledhril remarked.
“Really?” you asked, and they nodded.
You let out a frustrated groan. “Just my luck,” you muttered.
Sighing, you rested your hands on your hips and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Please tell me there are some wild herbs in this region I can use for treating fevers?” you pleaded, clasping your hands together.
"Well... the common wild herbs around here are coneflowers and yarrow,” Gledhril answered.
The mention of coneflowers sparked a flicker of hope in you. “Perfect. I can make something out of coneflowers,” you said with determination.
“We must warn you,” Linnoril cautioned. “Because of Morgoth’s influence, they’ve been harder to find, and their growth has slowed.”
“One should be enough. Can you help me out?” you asked.
“Of course,” Gledhril agreed, rising to their feet. “It would be good to gather some herbs for restocking.”
After gathering the necessary tools and finding someone to watch the twins, you left with Linnoril and Gledhril for the nearby woods where the coneflowers should be growing.
For two hours straight, you scoured the woods, gathering whichever wild herbs you could find while searching for coneflowers. Linnoril wasn’t joking when she said coneflowers had become harder to find. You've only found three coneflowers over the hours. While looking, you decided to gather some nettles and pine needles. By some luck, you managed to find some yarrow and sage. 
You paused for a moment to stretch your back and legs. You really should work out more; all this crouching is starting to take an unpleasant toll on you.
At least, Gledhril promised to reserve a good ginger root for you when the supplies arrive, and if luck is on your side, you might get your hands on some honey. Brewing the ginger into a hot juice mixed with honey will create a strong drink to help with Elrond’s fever. With coneflower, you can keep him steady until then, even though you're not sure how strong the immune system of a half-elf is.
Luckily, Elrond’s fever is mild enough not to raise deeper concerns. 
You wonder if you could message Melui to see if he might help you get your hands on any lemons, since they’ve become a rarity. They would enhance the ginger’s properties and add some vitamins.
In the corner of your eye, you noticed another coneflower near a mossy hill. 
“(Name)!” you heard Gledhril call out to you. 
“Yeah!” You turned toward her and Linnoril. 
“We’ve already searched the entire area. I think we can head back now,” Gledhril said.
“Yeah, go ahead. I think I spotted one more coneflower. I’ll catch up with you,” you replied, making your way toward the flower on the hill.
When you reached it, you leaned down and pulled the coneflower from its roots—only to notice another hand reaching for it at the same moment. But you got to it first.
“Oh…” you murmured, your eyes lifting to the figure standing in front of you.
In front of you stood a male elf with a ragged and worn appearance. His skin was pale, and dark circles shadowed his exhausted eyes. Around his waist hung a collection of cutting tools and small pouches. A backpack was strapped to his back, from which a few herbs dangled on a string.
Carried on his back was also a young elf girl—no older than ten in human years—who looked frail and deathly ill. They both looked deathly ill. 
From their features, you could tell they were Sindar elves.
“Uh… Sorry. Were you also looking for this flower?” you asked, holding the coneflower you snatched from him. “Because you can have it if you need it,” you handed it to them. 
“No… It’s alright. You got it first, so I’ll look elsewhere,” he uttered, his voice quiet. 
“No. No. Seriously. You can have it. I've already found enough to make medicine for someone I know,” you insisted. 
He looked surprised and hesitant, but slowly he took the coneflower. “Thank you,” he mumbled under his breath. 
You glanced at the child on his back. “Is she your daughter? She doesn’t look so well. “ 
“Yes… “The elf hesitated, most likely having not expected a conversation. “She has been afflicted with a terrible cold for the past week. I tried everything, but the cold persists, and she has been weakening lately,” he explained. 
“The medicines have been scarce these days,” he added, his eyes nearly distant.
“Oh… “ you said sympathetically. 
“You know… how about you take these nettles?” you offered, handing him the bundle you had picked. “Dry them out and you can make a pretty effective tea.”
“You can have this sage, too. It’s great for sore throats and irritation, so it should help stabilize things a bit,” you added.
“And have you tried eating garlic? I know it sounds unusual, but it can actually help boost the immune system and fight off colds,” you explained. 
“The only side effect is that your breath will smell like garlic for a while,” you offered a smile, trying to light up the mood. 
He looked hesitant but accepted the herbs. “Thank you… I don’t know how I can repay you,” he said. 
“No need. You know— I can get my hands on ginger in a few days. I can use it to brew a drink that’s really effective against colds and fevers,” you said. “I could then deliver it to you so you don’t have to make long trips, or leave your daughter,” 
He looked surprised. “You would do that… for my daughter?” he asked, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 
“And for you, too. I mean no offense, but you look like you’ve seen some sick days yourself,” you said as he released a few coughs.
“So, what do you say?” you asked. “I could deliver it to your home, or if you’re not comfortable, we could meet somewhere else.”
“No. If you truly wish to help us… you can visit our home,” he replied.
“I have a map. Maybe you could show me where you live?” you said, pulling the map out.
“Of course,” he said, then showed you the way to his home, which was in a hidden Sindar village.
“Alright,” you said, folding the map.
“My name is (Name), by the way. (Name) (Lastname),” you introduced yourself.
“Itham,” he replied, then motioned to the girl on his back. “This is my daughter, Alynna.”
“Well… Alynna, I’m going to bring you something that will help you feel better. So hold tight,” you said, offering the girl a warm smile.
Itham looked slightly awkward. “My daughter is… deaf. She lost her hearing in a terrible incident. She only communicates through hand.”
“Oh… uh…” You looked at him, surprised and a little awkward. “My bad. Let me try that again,” you said, then turned your attention to the girl.
Maintaining eye contact with the little elf girl, you began to speak in sign language.
“(Hi, my name (Name). What’s yours?)” You asked. 
The young girl raised her hand and slowly replied. “(Alynna)”
You smiled. “(That’s a really pretty name, Alynna)”
“(I’m gonna bring you something that will help you feel better. So sit tight. Okay?)” You asked. 
The little child smiled before answering. “(Okay)”
“How do you know the language of hands?” Itham asked, clearly surprised.
“We call it sign language where I come from,” you replied. “The family I grew up with had many hearing- or speech-impaired relatives, so it was kind of a mandatory language to learn.”
“I didn’t mind, though. It’s allowed me to help a lot of people. Even if they can’t speak with voices, they still have so many interesting things to say.”
Itham nodded thoughtfully. 
“You remind me of someone I met many years ago,” he said. “She could also speak hand and had exceptional knowledge of herbs,” he described. 
“She must have been an awesome person then,” you smiled, even though that person made you think of Camilla.
“Take care. I’ll come to see you and your daughter once I get my hands on the ingredients,” you said. 
Itham nodded, and for the first time, his eyes seemed to hold hope. 
After parting ways with the father and daughter, you made your way back to Gledhril and Linnoril. A sense of quiet satisfaction settled over you. It felt good to have a chance to help someone. For once, you were grateful that Camilla forced you to learn all about healing and herbal medicine. 
After returning to Amon Ereb, you began brewing the coneflowers into tea and put most of the herbs you gathered to dry out. After you were done, you cleaned up and picked up the pot. You left the kitchen and began making your way to the twins’ room, allowing the tea to cool off during the walk. 
However, after walking up a set of stairs, you stumbled upon the last person you wanted to see. 
“(Name),” Maglor said after you reached the stop. 
You stopped and looked at him quietly, waiting for him to tell you his business. 
“I… “Maglor started, nearly hesitantly. “... heard that one of the children had fallen ill,” 
“Yeah…Elrond caught a fever. It’s mild, so there’s no need for concern. I’m just bringing him some coneflower tea to help him out,” you replied, motioning the teapot you were holding. 
“I would have made a hot juice out of ginger, but since you were out of stock of all the herbs that could have helped with fever. I went out to gather some coneflowers as they’re also good for treating fevers,” you explained.
“It should keep him steady for a time until the next supply. Gledhril promised to reserve me a ginger root once they arrive,” you continued. 
“Ginger is more effective when it comes to fevers and colds,” you clarified. “Especially since I don’t know how bad fevers and colds can be these days, with Morgoth and all,” 
Maglor nodded understandably. 
“Is there… “ he started. “Is there anything else you need to treat the children?”
You thought about it. “It would be great if I could get my hands on some honey. It can help milden the sour taste in medicines, and it's good for the throat when kept in the cold,” you said.  
“I… see into it,” Maglor said. 
“That would be great,” you replied, then there was silence between you.
You looked at him for a moment as he avoided direct eye contact. The atmosphere quickly grew awkward enough to make you want to escape.
“If that’s all… I’m gonna go back to the twins, “ you said, ready to leave. “If we’re lucky, his fever will be gone tomorrow.” 
“How is… “ Maglor started, causing you to stop. 
“... the other child?” he asked.  
You looked at him with a frown for his constant reference to the twins as “children”. 
“First of all, his name is Elros, “ you said. “And the second, he’s fine, he just doesn’t trust any of you.” 
“Can’t blame him, thought. What kind of sane person would trust their captives?” you questioned. 
“You think we are keeping them captive?” Maglor asked. 
You frown at his question. “Didn’t you literally say the night you attacked Sirion that if you took them, their mother would be compelled to give you the silmaril?” you asked. 
Maglor looked down, not answering. 
“If this isn’t keeping them captive here, then what is it?” you questioned. “Can I take them and leave this place without your interference?” you asked. 
Maglor didn’t answer. 
You stepped toward him.
“Let me ask you a fair question, “ you started. “What if that doesn’t happen? What if their parents don’t return with your silmaril?” you questioned. 
“What if they died wherever they went? Or they’re somewhere that makes them unable to return? ” you asked. 
“We don’t know that… “ Maglor looked up at you. “And no parent would willingly abandon their children. We just have to wait and…” 
“But what if they don’t come back?” you asked sternly.
“You can look and hope for that one outcome to happen all you want, but you can’t deny the possibility of the other outcome from happening,” you said. “Then what will you do with the twins?” 
Maglor kept quiet, thinking. 
“The twins staying here would then serve no purpose for you. What will you do when you can’t get what you want from them? Will you throw them into the woods like with the previous twins? Maedhros would probably be happy to get rid of the extra mouths,” you said with a bitter tone.
“Of course not!” Maglor replied, sounding appalled.
“Then what?” you pressed.
“I…I…” Maglor stuttered, a loss for words. 
You looked at him, waiting. 
He then sighed. “Do you really have so little trust in me that you believe I would do such a thing?” he asked.
“So far, you haven’t given me any reason to trust you,” you replied. “I only trust two elves in this fortress, and you’re neither of them.”
Maglor’s face tightened with a flicker of hurt, as if your words had struck deeper than he expected.
“I need to go check on Elrond, the sick twin. Goodnight,” you said, walking past him without looking back.
 As you walked away, a pang of guilt lingered over how you had spoken to him. But honestly, the bitter anger you felt was hard to contain. Sixty years ago, he never had trouble coming up with an answer, but now, it was like he didn’t know what he was doing, or he was living in such desperation that he was willing to avoid the truth at all costs. He had fallen so much from the elf you once knew. 
Shaking your head, you tried to banish him from your thoughts. Perhaps staying here had been a mistake. Maybe you should have just taken the twins and bolted when you had the chance—because if this is the Maglor you have to face, then you’re not sure you can hold yourself together.
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animatorweirdo · 15 days ago
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Things Of the Past
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You make your medicine and reunite with old work friends. They share a few things about people who no longer follow Maglor and his brother. You reminisce about the past and a friendship you once shared with the youngest son of Feanor.
Warnings: Angst, cursing, mentions of your incident, dead character, and you feeling a lot of sadness in this chapter.
Chapter 5
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The night went by more easily this time.
When morning arrived, you and the twins ate soup again. Thankfully, the servants had added some salt this time, so it wasn’t as bland. To your relief, the twins had grown accustomed to the servants rather quickly. Elrond was quick to feel comfortable, but Elros still wore a mistrustful scowl whenever he saw one of the "evil" elves. You figured he would be the hardest one to convince to trust anyone in the fortress.
His feelings were valid, and you didn’t want to force him to trust anyone from the group that attacked his home. However, it would make things easier if he trusted them enough not to cause trouble.
On the bright side, you hadn’t seen Maglor at all today. You think it's for the best because standing near him without thinking about the past was too difficult right now. For your mental health, you decided to keep your distance and focus on figuring out your next move.
Maybe, for now, your main focus should be the most important task: brewing and taking your medicine.
Finding the healer’s wing wasn’t very difficult. After finding a good workstation and the necessary tools, you began mixing the ingredients and Moonflower. You knew the recipe by heart, but just to be safe, you wrote down the amounts and steps on paper since you had to remember a lot.
Luckily, you didn’t have to worry too much about adding the wrong amounts. The potion wasn’t lethal, and you had good tolerance when it came to side effects. 
After making several small bottles of the medicine, you sat at the table, popped the cork, and drank the cold liquid. You grimaced at the cold sensation and shivered as the familiar brain freeze took over. Luckily, it passed quickly, and you felt lighter than before.
You checked your skin and saw some color returning. Paleness didn’t really suit you.
Your thoughts drifted to Camilla. It's been so long since you saw her, even though it felt like just a week ago. You hadn’t really had time to think about her these past days, though her absence was noticeable.
What are the chances she might still be alive? It’s been sixty years.
The door to the healer’s wing opened, and two elven women stepped inside. You squinted, then widened your eyes in recognition.
They stopped when they saw you, their eyes widening as they recognized you.
“(Name)? Is that really you?” one asked as they approached you like you were some kind of ghost.
“Glenny. Linny. It’s been a while,” you greeted, as Gledhril and Linnoril stood beside you.
“How…?” Gledhril started, clearly astonished. “We heard a human had come to Amon Ereb, but… we didn’t think it was you,”
“How are you alive after all these years? Camilla told us of the incident and was certain you had died at the hands of the frost wraiths that caught you,” Linnoril questioned. 
“It’s a bit of a long story… “You replied. 
“I was caught by those frost wraiths, and they froze me alive. But… apparently I didn’t die and had been frozen in ice for the past decades,” you explained briefly. “I broke free recently,”
“So… you two are still with Maglor and his brother?” you asked.
“Yes. We stayed,” Gledhril replied. “We couldn’t bring ourselves to leave even after everything that had happened.”
“Is Faye around?” you asked.
Gledhril and Linnoril exchanged quiet, sorrowful looks. It made you momentarily fear the worst.
“Faye left us after the sacking of Doriath. She had been weary since Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and after the attack, she was horrified. She could not follow our lords any further—so she left,” Gledhril explained.
“Last time we saw her, she said she was going to seek safety with Círdan the Shipwright,” Linnoril added.
You hummed, slightly relieved. “Good for her, I guess. At least she didn’t have to witness what happened in Sirion.”
You three remained silent for a second.
“Do you need me to leave? I will clean up after myself,” you said, ready to get up.
“No, it’s alright.” Gledhril shook her head. “I can see you were brewing medicine for yourself.”
“We came back from giving our mourning to Lord Amras. He had been buried at one of the hills not too far from here,” she murmured.
“Yeah, I noticed,” you stated. “Apparently, he fell in Sirion.”
“Are you going to give your peace? If I remember correctly, you and Lord Amras were good friends,” Linnoril asked.
You thought about it. Yeah, you and Amras were good friends. But… you don’t know if you could give anything, or even mourn him, since it was in kinslaying he died, an act he and his brothers chose to commit.
“Maybe some other time. I’m still wrapping my head around what had happened,” you replied.
“Are you and Lord Maglor…” Linnoril started. 
“Pretty sure we're avoiding each other. I am, anyway," you answered. “I just..." You struggled to find the right words.
“I just... can’t look at him right now," 
Gledhril and Linnoril looked at you sympathetically.
“Don’t take it too hard on him. Things haven’t been easy, and the oath has driven him and his family down this terrible path,” Linnoril said.
“Why do people say it’s the oath that makes them do these terrible things?” you asked, slightly annoyed.
“Did the oath force them to swear it? Was it the oath that made them commit the first kinslaying? Oh, and was it the oath that made them abandon the sons of Dior into cold woods to die alone?” you asked, your voice edged with quiet bitterness.
"They were children, for god's sake!"
Gledhril and Linnoril did not answer.
“No? Then it was never the oath that made Maglor and his brother do these things; it was them. They chose to do it despite the consequences. Pretty sure the oath has always been a background excuse they can blame later,” you stated coldly.
“I get that time can change people when things fall apart. But if you're going to give up and do bad shit, at least have the decency to admit it what they are, and don’t make—fucking—excuses,” you muttered, your thoughts circling back to Maglor.
You sighed. “Shit,” 
“Sorry. I think I’m still in shock — finding out I’ve somehow been alive all this time and waking up in a world I no longer recognize. I know this might not seem like much to you elves… but for me, this isn’t normal,” you said flatly, meeting their eyes.
“There’s a huge gap in my memories, so it still feels like it was just a week ago that we were in Himring,” you explained. “But now... everything is upside down.”
“Worst of all, Camilla might be dead. And I have no idea what became of her,” you added quietly.
Linnoril and Gledhril were quiet for a moment, processing what you said. Their expressions were sorrowful yet sympathetic.
“We understand,” Linnoril began. “It must have been difficult for you to handle this kind of change.”
“If you need company, you can come to us. We could use extra hands in the healers’ wing, and we would be glad to see an old friend among us again,” Gledhril said.
“Thanks…,” you uttered. “I guess it’s comforting to see some familiar faces."
You glanced at the ingredients for your medicine. “Do you have a herb garden here? I need to find a place to plant these,” you said, motioning to the seeds.
“Of course. Though fair warning— with Morgoth's influence all over Beleriand, it's been difficult to grow the necessary herbs,” Gledhril said.
“So I’ve heard. I have enough medicine to last until next summer, but I still need a way to produce the ingredients,” you replied. “Especially the Moonflower.”
“There’s a place on the south side where the moon shines brightest when the skies are clear. But I’m afraid it’s too late to plant them now. And the winters have been quite harsh these past years, so growing them in a pot might be a challenge,” Linnoril said.
“There’s a hearth in the room I share with two children. I think I might be able to grow them there through the winter,” you said. “Or… if your cooks don’t mind, I could keep it in the kitchen. Even without the oven on, it’s located where the temperature should be warm enough,” you added, recalling the kitchen you passed while looking for the healer’s wing. 
“We heard that you were brought along with two children. Who are they?” Linnoril asked curiously. 
“Their names are Elros and Elrond. They’re… “You thought about it for a moment. “... orphans from Sirion,” 
“Oh…” Linnoril uttered as she and Gledhril glanced at each other sadly. 
“I’m not sure what became of their parents. Apparently, their father wasn’t in the city, and their mother turned into a bird and flew off somewhere. But… they’re alone. And I promised to look out for them and be someone they can trust,” you explained. 
“I happened to stumble upon them hiding when the attack happened. That’s how I ended up here,” you added. 
Gledhril and Linnoril looked sad. 
“Well… if you ever need something. You are free to use anything in the healer’s wing for the children,” Gledhril stated. 
“Much appreciated. There have been illnesses going around, and I don’t want to risk them getting sick—especially now that even elves seem to be more vulnerable these days,” you said, thinking of the twins’ half-elf, half-human heritage.
“I should get started planting these. Can you show me where the herb garden is?” you asked, looking at them.
“Of course, I'll show you,” Linnoril replied.
You then picked the seeds and followed Linnoril to the fortress’s designated herb garden. Your thoughts and mood remained sad as you reflected on everything. It was nearly impossible not to think about them and how helpless you felt about doing anything. You just couldn’t shake how everything felt unreal and changed so quickly. It still felt like a week ago when you left Himring with Camilla, and everything was fine.
You could remember that day clearly. 
Camilla had heard news about a plant that thrived in cold conditions and did some research, discovering it had healing properties. She believed it could be a possible cure for your curse, so you agreed to go with her to retrieve it. Maglor was worried, as you were planning to travel far. You assured him everything would be fine and that you would be back before he could even notice your absence. To comfort him, you shared a short but sweet kiss before departing Himring.
Everything went smoothly until you reached that cave.
While exploring the icy cave in search of the plant, your senses tingled—something felt off. Apparently, Camilla’s sources mentioned nothing about frost wraiths that lived in the same conditions as the plant. They attacked when you least expected it. You ran for the exit. Camilla made it out in time, but… you weren’t fast enough.
You still remember the terror on Camilla’s face when she saw your feet frozen to the ground, making you unable to move. And you remember the terror you felt when you reached out to her, only for a frost wraith to touch you, instantly freezing your entire body and encasing you in ice.
You still recall hearing her scream echoing and the light fading from your eyes as you were trapped inside that icy cocoon before your mind plunged into darkness, which should have been your death.
In that moment, time moved without your awareness, and everything went wrong. You lost your sister, lover, friends, and you aren’t even sure what happened to Goliath, your horse.
Oh, how you miss your gentle giant.
He was already elderly when you first met him but still healthy enough to carry you when he chose you as his rider. He had suffered the loss of his previous rider but chose to bond with you when you helped him through his grief.
You can only guess how he felt after your supposed death. No doubt, heartbroken over losing his second rider. His absence in Amon Ereb was enough to tell you he was long gone. Horses raised by elves can live long lives, but even they can die from heartbreak.
You felt relieved when you reached the herb garden. Planting the seeds of your medicinal ingredients gave you something else to focus on. You planted the Moonflower seeds into a small pot, planning to take it to the twins’ room later, as it was quite cold in the herb garden.
Then you decided to visit Amras’s grave.
He was buried on a lonely hill not far from the fortress. There were other graves nearby, and the freshly covered earth showed they were recent—likely those who had perished during the attack on Sirion. Though you had heard that some were left behind.
Amras had a rather small tombstone. Its engraving told his name in Quenya and nothing else. His blade was left standing beside it. A few wildflowers rested at its foot; nothing more. Somehow, it suited him—he was a hunter, someone who spent more time in the wilderness than at home.
Looking at it left you feeling hollow, but it also made you wonder what would have happened if he had lived and met you again.
Amras was the quietest of his brothers. He often spent more time alone than with his family. But at the time, when he still walked among the living, you knew he was struggling with inner problems he kept to himself.
You had met most of Maglor’s brothers. Besides Maedhros, Amras was the second person you managed to befriend in Maglor’s family. Maglor told you that Amras preferred to keep his distance from the rest of the family, especially after what happened with his twin.
You knew his twin had died in the burning of the boats, and that elves with twins could feel the loss for a long time. But when you first spoke to Amras face to face, you knew he was hiding more than just sadness in his heart.
You’re not sure why, but it made you want to talk to him more.
It started with small talks. He was surprised by your desire to socialize. He was polite, but very reserved. Over time, he opened up more.
You found you had many things in common, which even surprised you.
His twin’s death left a deep void in his soul. He confessed that he harbored a lot of resentment toward his father, especially how his father reacted to the tragedy. That burning resentment lingered even after his father died, extending to his brothers and the oath.
He no longer saw a reason to follow the oath and resented how his brothers would follow it despite the pain it caused, and how they expected him to do the same without question.
He felt they’d never understand his feelings about it, so he kept quiet. He secretly wanted to leave but was too scared to go alone. He had lost his twin, and his home was unreachable, so he had nowhere to go. And deep down, he still somewhat cared for his family. 
You understood him well. 
In your own world, when people heard about your Wendigo curse, they always thought you were a monster, forcing you to defend yourself. Even with your adoptive family, you often felt alone and like you didn’t belong. 
You did not deny that you even entertained the idea of leaving your adoptive family, but knew you couldn’t. 
Because where would you go? You had nothing and no one.
Maybe that’s why you related to Amras. You saw yourself in him and wanted to be the friend who listens and understands without judging.
That’s how you became good friends.
He was supportive in his own way when he learned you and Maglor were together. He didn’t doubt Maglor could fall for a human—after all, Maglor was a hopeless romantic.
He was also one of the first elves to share your dark sense of humor. Whenever he visited, the two of you would enjoy exchanging jokes, even though you often received looks of confusion and concern from the unfortunate souls who happened to be nearby to hear them. But you didn’t care.
Maglor was happy you got along, even if your humor sometimes puzzled him. Camilla joked that you two might be long-lost spirit siblings.
Now, looking at his grave, you felt empty. He opposed the oath, so you wondered if he participated willingly in the kinslaying or if he was among those who opposed it and fell at the hands of Maglor’s and Maedhros’s followers. You don’t think you’ll dare ask Maglor how he died.
When you thought about him, the tears came before you could stop them. You wiped them away, then stared at the damp spots on your sleeve.
You felt heavy. The emotions tangled in your chest like a bag of rocks — confusion, sorrow, and anger, all mingling into a mix that made you feel sick.
You’re not even sure if you're crying because he’s dead. You feel sad because you once shared a friendship with him… but now, you’re also angry and confused — not even certain if you should be shedding tears for him.
You don’t know if he died as a willing kinslayer, or if he fell trying to oppose the very thing he hated.
Why couldn’t his fate have been different? Why couldn’t he have died in a way that didn’t make you feel ashamed for mourning him?
Then maybe… you could have just mourned him as the friend you once knew.
You got up and turned around, walking back toward the fortress. Crying was pointless now; he was gone, and that’s it. Maybe it would help if you just keep looking forward and move on. That’s what you have always done.
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animatorweirdo · 16 days ago
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Pinky Promise
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You leave Amon Ereb to retrieve the rest of the ingredients for your medicine. You reunite with Melui and tell him everything that happened.
Warnings: Elros being mistrustful, some fluff, some angst, Melui not liking the idea of you going back, and some angsty emotions.
Chapter 4
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Fortunately, crying was an easy way to fall asleep. 
The tension and the emotional release took a toll on you as you couldn’t help but let out everything you had been holding in for the past few days. You don’t exactly remember when you fell asleep; you only recall lying on the couch in the twins' room and then waking up to someone knocking at the door. 
You groaned as you woke up with your neck and shoulders aching like they were made out of stone. You partially regretted not taking the chance to have your own room. The couch was not one of the most comfortable places to sleep, especially without a pillow and blanket. But again, you don’t really dare to leave the twins out of your reach. At the moment, you prefer to be nearby and be able to do something in case of an emergency. 
“Who is it?” You called out as the twins woke up from their sleep. 
“Breakfast, my lady. For you and the children,” The voice called out behind the door, most likely belonging to a servant. 
You thought about it and glanced at the twins, who looked skeptical and reluctant to let the servant in. However, since you three had not eaten a properly made meal for some time, you gave in to the thought and allowed the servant in: “Come in!” 
The servant opened the door and walked inside with a trail in hand. 
The servant placed the trail on a table in the room. On the trail, you saw three bowls, and from the smell, you guessed it was soup — a regular dish nowadays. 
You sent the servant away and then began to dine with the twins. 
Elros was suspicious that something had been put into the soup, but you convinced him when you took a sip and showed him it was safe. Elrond found it challenging to eat due to its blandness. He was more used to tasting herbs and fish in his food when he still lived in Sirion. 
You did not blame him. This soup had to be the most flavorless soup you had ever tasted. 
Luckily, you managed to remedy that problem by adding some nettles you picked up during your travel to Sirion. 
“Boys, I need to leave for a time. I need to visit a friend and tell him I’m okay,” You started after finishing your bowl. “I also need to fetch some stuff — important stuff,”
“Will you be back?” Elrond questioned.  
“Don’t leave! What if they do something while you’re gone?” Elros exclaimed. “Maybe they’re just waiting for an opportunity for you to turn your back and then strike when you’re not looking,” he said, his voice full of mistrust toward your host. 
You took a breath before answering. 
“Yes. I will come back,” You glanced at Elrond. 
“And don’t worry. These elves will not go as far as to hurt children. At least, the one named Maglor won’t. I can promise you that,” you looked at Elros, trying to sound as assuring as possible. 
“I need to retrieve ingredients for a medicine. I have an illness that needs a special kind of medicine, and I only have one of the ingredients, “ you explained. “My friend has the rest.”
“How long will you be gone?” Elrond drank some water.  
“Perhaps a day. I might come back before nightfall. My friend’s home is pretty far from here. But I will try to be as quick as possible. Will you two be alright staying in this room till then?” You questioned, looking them both in the eye. 
“I can tell the servants not to come in without your permission,” you added. 
“We’ll be okay,” Elrond nodded while continuing to eat. “Fine…” Elros uttered under his breath. 
“Good, “ you nodded. 
“But you better come back,” Elros said rather demandingly.  
You smiled, then offered him your pinky. “How about I give you a pinky promise?” 
Elros looked at you, slightly confused. “A pinky promise?” 
“It’s when you hook your pinkies like this,” you explained, gently taking his small hand and hooking his pinky with yours. “And make a promise I can't break,” you added, looking him in the eyes. 
“I pinky promise that I will come back,” you vowed. 
“What if you break that promise?” Elros asked curiously.  
“Then I will--- be cursed with bad luck for the rest of eternity,” you said. “...and my pinky falls off,” you added, smiling humorously. 
Elros looked slightly startled. “That can happen?! I… don’t want you to lose your pinky, or get cursed with bad luck,”
His new concern was enough to make you smile. 
“Then I better not break it,” you said, giving his head a short and gentle ruffle. Elrond giggled. 
“Now finish your breakfast. It’s gonna be a long day,” you said, unhooking your pinkies and finishing your meal. 
The breakfast went smoothly. After dressing and gathering your bag, you left the room and told the servants to knock before entering during mealtimes. You figured it would be best to take things slow and let the twins get used to the servants first.
Then, you headed to the courtyard. Luckily, it wasn’t too hard to find. Maglor’s people were busy with their own things in a calm manner, despite the recent kinslaying. It almost seemed like just a regular day.
Reaching the stairs, you paused to catch your breath. Honestly, you didn’t feel comfortable leaving the twins, especially after what happened. But you needed those ingredients, and maybe some time to gather your own thoughts about everything. 
Your mind drifted back to Maglor and the things that were said. It would probably be proper to let him know what you’re up to. But honestly, you didn’t want to see him. You were still pretty angry about what he had done and how he tried to excuse it. The servants can let him know if he wants to find out where you are, and you already told him you needed to get the ingredients.
After that pause, you walked down the stairs.
As you approached the stables, to your surprise, Seastar was saddled and seemed to be waiting for you. The white mare was calmly sipping water.
“Are you Lady (Name)?” an elf, whom you assume is the stablemaster, asked.
“Yeah?” you replied.
“Lord Maglor ordered your horse to be ready for the trip,” the elf said, untying the reins from the post and handing them to you. Then he went back to his stable duties, leaving you feeling a little puzzled.
You didn’t know what to think. A small part of you was glad that Maglor had informed his people and wasn’t trying to make things difficult.
You looked toward the fortress windows to see if he was watching. Your eyes scanned several windows until one caught your attention—there was a shadow, but it disappeared quickly. You stared at it for a moment, then shook your head and climbed onto Seastar. 
After settling on Seastar’s back, you clicked your heels and rode through the gate. After entering the outside road, you clicked your heels again and started galloping away from the fortress, and away from him. 
After reaching the city, you let Seastar rest her legs and walk her back to Melui’s house. When you finally reached his place, you found him talking to some guards at the steps. He looked distraught, and you had a feeling his worries were about you. When Seastar released a whinny, Melui snapped his attention toward you. 
“(Name)!” Melui exclaimed in relief as he approached you. 
“Where have you been? You have been gone for days!” Melui asked after checking on you. 
“I heard that the sons of Feanor attacked the havens of Sirion. When you didn’t return at the agreed time. I feared the worst. “ Melui explained. “What happened? Did you end up in the middle of the attack?” He bombarded. 
“Well…” You felt unsure how to start explaining the whole thing. “No, but I did face some complications on the way.”
Melui frowned as he looked at you, confused. 
“We… might wanna step inside. It’s a long story,” you added. 
After returning Seastar to the stables, you and Melui retreated into the safety of his home. Inside, you told him everything that happened during your trip. You told him about the twins, Maglor, and how you had travelled to Amon Ereb. 
 Melui bore a troubled yet thoughtful expression after you explained everything. 
“To think those kinslayers would go as far as to attack a haven for refugees. Some of those people were survivors of Gondolin— their own people,” he stated. 
“I heard some of their own even tried to fight back and stop it, so this was perhaps the messiest kinslaying they had ever done,” You mentioned. 
“And these twins…. they are Elwing’s sons?” Melui questioned. 
“Yeah. I didn’t dare leave them there, especially when I was reminded what happened to the Doriath twins,” You replied as he nodded. 
“Which is why I will be going back,” You stated. 
Melui looked at you with slight panic and deep concern. “(Name)! I can understand your worry for these children, but I don’t think it would be wise for you to return there! Your lover might not do anything to you, but there’s no guarantee his brother and followers won’t cause you harm!” He exclaimed. 
“It was the sons of Feanor’s followers who left Dior’s sons to die in those woods,” He added. 
“I know. I know, but I made a promise to those boys that I would come back. That’s a promise I’m intending to keep,” You revealed. 
“I would have brought them here, but considering what’s happening outside, I fear Amon Ereb is the safest place for them right now,” you continued. “That’s why I think it’s best I stay there as well. That way, I can keep the twins safe from dangers both outside and inside,”
“(Name), please. I already lost the love of my life to them. I don’t want to lose a dear friend too,” Melui said, and you noticed tears starting to well up in his eyes.
It was a bit surprising to see him so emotional, but you grabbed his hand and held it to try to comfort him.
“I’m not planning to die,” you said softly.
“If something does happen— well— rest assured that I will put up a fight. Who knows, I might end up going full Wendigo on them,” you said, offering a small smile.
Melui dried his eyes. “You don’t use your curse lightly as a threat. I do not wish to let you go back there, but… I want to trust you,” he said.
“What’s important to me is that those boys will be safe,” you stated.
Melui was quiet for a moment before exhaling and relaxing his shoulders. “Promise me that if something happens—you value your life and come to me when you need help. You may bring the children as well,” he said.
“Thanks, Melui. Though I don’t make promises that could one day be broken. I promise I will do my best to hold on to it,” you said.
“I will trust you on that…” Melui then turned toward the stuff on the table.
“I found the rest of the ingredients for your medicine. You’re free to take them with you,” he said, motioning toward the table where you saw the wraps of the ingredients needed for your medicine.
“Thank you, Melui,” you smiled gratefully.
“I’m not one to wish curses on someone, but… if your former lover harms you, may Eru curse his existence and shall he never find peace,” he said as he started preparing food.
“I think he will behave himself with me around. He knows the full extent of what my curse can do,” you chuckled as he focused on making dinner. 
You thought about what you had just said. Never in the world would you have imagined that you would use the beast to keep things safe, but if it meant protecting the twins, then maybe that was for the best. Maglor was smart enough to take it seriously; hopefully, you wouldn't have to reveal your secret to everyone. That would not end well.
After packing the necessary ingredients for your medicine and eating dinner with Melui, you were ready to return to Amon Ereb. Melui walked down the stairs with you, then handed you a money pouch.
“Here. This should be enough to buy you a horse,” he said.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine. You’ve already done more than enough for me,” you replied, shaking your head at the money.
“No, I insist. Besides, it would be safer for you to travel on horseback than on foot. The roads have become treacherous, and I’d prefer that you be able to move quickly. So take the money, and buy yourself a horse,” Melui explained, pushing the pouch toward you.
“Okay… thank you,” you said, taking the pouch and feeling the coins through the fabric.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Melui remarked.
“Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing. But what else is there to do?” you said as you tucked the pouch into your bag.
“Stay safe. I pray that Eru will watch over you,” he said.
“I will. Take care of yourself. I’ll send you a letter to let you know I arrived safely,” you promised, and he nodded subtly.
“Now get going. You’ll want to be there before nightfall,” he said, and you nodded in return.
You two then bid farewell, and you left to buy a horse for the journey. It took some time to look through the stables, but you eventually found an elf who trained horses and was willing to sell one. You bought a brown and white paint mare, whom you decided to rename Donna, and then began your ride back to Amon Ereb.
The roads were familiar to you, and you managed to reach the lonely fortress before evening. Fortunately, the guards and other elves at the gate did not give you any trouble as you rode through and reached the stables. Maglor had probably told them to let you pass, which you were slightly grateful for. It would have been troublesome if they hadn’t allowed you through, and you didn’t want to make your previous threat a reality.
You reunited with the twins, who were glad to see you back, and began trying to settle into your new living situation. You could only hope that things would stay the same for now—and not spiral into a bigger disaster somewhere down the line.
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animatorweirdo · 18 days ago
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Funny enough, one of my old fic ideas entertained the idea of an android reader in Middle-earth. It never got written because I couldn't decide which timeline it should happen in. (I thought about somewhere in the First Age, but I didn't know how to execute it.) But the main idea was that android reader is a caretaker unit.
Reader's world was dying from a deadly virus or had become inhabitable. The humans of reader's world figured out a way to travel through space and time, so in an attempt at survival, they tried to send their children through a portal that would take them to another habitable world with android units to care for them and protect them from danger. But when it was reader's group's turn, something happened inside the portal, and reader and the children placed under their care were sent to the wrong world (Arda).
Unable to gain contact with the previous world, reader tries to adapt and help the children survive in this strange world. Then maybe they meet an elf, or some stuff happens. Maybe a story about the challenges of raising kids.
This mention really brought that idea back to mind 😂. Now I keep thinking android reader ready to do anything to keep the kids safe, and the kids and elf trying hard to keep reader alive.
WHAT ABOUT AN ANDROID READER IN MIDDLE EARTH!! hear me out plz
You get reader who is such a well-built/futuristic android it is impossible to tell whether they are human or not. Except for one little thing, they have creases/slightly visible joins where things connect (like their limbs for example). I'd imagine the android would know a great deal about humans and elves and understand them too. Until one of our wives accidentally catches sight of when of these creases and realizes something is up. I wonder what their reactions would be at the grand reveal lol
That’s such a cool idea 😯! I think the elves would be super curious but also respectful. Like, they’d definitely notice the creases and probably have a mix of awe and confusion. They might get a bit startled at first but then try to understand what the android really is. Knowing the elves, they’d probably be fascinated by the mix of magic and technology and maybe even protective once they realise the android means no harm. Definitely a bit of awkwardness and curiosity 😆. We got an R2-D2 walking around Middle Earth
For some reason, I can see this idea coming to life in the hands of @animatorweirdo spectacularly 🤔, since they’re expertly known for their sci-fi tropes 😁
Let’s just hope android reader doesn’t one day go all “this world is filled with evil, all things must be destroyed to bring peace” like Ultron 🥲
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animatorweirdo · 23 days ago
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Gilded Feathers
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You and your fellow maia Aerwil are tasked to escort two Vanyar noble ladies to an important summer festival. A little incident happens on the road, and now you and your friend are forced to attend the festival as the noble ladies.
(Author's note: I rewatched the White Chicks movie and was hit with an old idea. Enjoy this crack-headed madness. I address my oc Aerwil as they/them because I couldn't decide which gender they should be. )
() = is when you speak through osanwe
Warnings: the twins being a bit rude, a bit creepy bird, mild injuries, and you and your friend forced to go through a gruelling dress-up.
-------------------------------------------------------
*You and your friend Aerwil get summoned by Manwe to Taniquetil*
Manwe: (Name), Aerwil, it is good to see you. I hope you have been doing well. 
You & Aerwil: *Bow to him in respect*
You: Greetings, your highness. We have been doing well. Thank you for asking. 
Aerwil: We are curious, though. When Lord Thorondor explained that you require our assistance in an important matter. We have been wondering what this matter could be that you would need help from us, eagles. 
Manwe: I'll be happy to explain.
Manwe: Are you two aware that the elves are hosting an important festival this season? To celebrate summer and enjoy the fruits of Yavanna’s gift. 
You: *nodding* Yes, we are aware. 
Manwe: Well, this season we have noticed an unusual activity of dark creatures lingering at Aman’s borders. Orome and Tulkas had taken upon themselves, along with their maiar, to guard the borders so those creatures would not cause trouble, but it has caused some concerns to rise among the elves. 
Manwe: Ingwe had requested that we send guards to make sure the representatives of his house would be escorted safely to Tirion, where the festival would be held. He was worried some creatures might slip through or something else might happen during the festival despite our reassurances. 
Manwe: I felt like granting his request. Unfortunately, Eonwe and many of his warriors are busy assisting Orome and Tulkas. Thus, I had asked Thorondor to pick his finest warriors to take forms and accompany Ingwe’s representatives. And he had seen you two fit for the task. 
Manwe: But just to be sure. Are you two willing to take this task? 
You: *nodding* Of course, your highness.
Aerwil: Absolutely. If King Ingwe feels there would be danger to his people, then we shall look after their safety. 
Manwe: *smiles* Excellent. 
You: But if I can ask… who are the representatives we will be watching over? 
Manwe: They would be two of Ingwe’s nieces, twins, I might add. Ingwe holds great fondness for them and thus would like to ensure their journey will be safe. 
Manwe: I do warn you… Ever since they were young, they might have been a bit… how do I say… pampered. 
You & Aerwil: *glance at each other cautiously *
You: How… pampered are we talking about, your highness? 
---
*Waiting at the gates of Ingwe’s home*
Aerwil: *walking left and right anxiously* Oh, I hate this already! 
You: *hand them a bag of baked goods* Calm down, it might be less bad than you think. 
Aerwil: It’s the Lelyavainë twins! They’re known to be the snobbiest noble ladies in King Ingwe’s family. Worst of all, they’re his nieces. King Ingwe is known for spoiling his family members. You can only guess what kind of spoiling they got. They’re like swans of Alqualonde, except golden and most likely worse!
Aerwil: *start eating the baked goods* Oh, what was Lord Thorondor thinking! We are not up for the task! 
You: I think you might be exaggerating a bit. 
Aerwil: You don’t know what we’re dealing with. But I’ve seen it. Trust me. The moment you meet the twins, you’re going to believe that Lord Thorondor picked us for this task to punish us for a mistake unknown to us. 
Aerwil: *looks at the baked goods* Uhm... did you make sure that these don't have any of that cheese?
You: Of course I did. Why would I feed you cheese when I know your body can't handle milk?
You: And you might wanna slow down, you'll get a stomach ache if you eat too fast.
Aerwil: Okay, good. Because last time when I tried that baked creamy puff thing, I barely made it to the bathroom in time. And bug off, you know, eating is my way of getting through stress and frustration.
You: I think they’re here.
*Ingwe and two identical but beautiful Vanyar ladies walk out of the house. Servants carry their luggage into the carriage. One servant was carrying a golden cage with a cockatoo in it. * 
You: *bow your head respectfully* Greetings, King Ingwe. I am (Name), and this is my friend Aerwil. We will be escorting your nieces to the festival by King Manwe’s orders. 
Ingwe: Wonderful. I am glad he has decided to grant my request. Let me introduce you to my nieces. This Calamírë and Lótariel. They have just come of age, and their parents have convinced me that this would be an excellent opportunity for them to represent our house in the coming festival of summer.
Ingwe: Who knows, perhaps they will meet suitable suitors there? 
Calamírë: *smiling sweetly* We’ll be sure to make you proud, uncle. 
Lótariel: *giggling*
Ingwe: *smiling softly* I have no doubt about it.
Ingwe: You two better get going now so you'll arrive in Tirion in good time. Remember to be respectful toward your guards. They will handle your requests, but in case of danger, do as they say.
Ingwe: Now, safe journey. *leaves*
You: Alright. I’ll drive us to the city and – 
Calamírë: *walking past you* Yes, yes, yes. Can we go now? I'd rather not be late.  
Lótariel: *follows her sister*
You & Aerwil: *glance at each other*
You: *shrug your shoulder as you follow them*
You: *as the twins get in the carriage, you sit down on the driver's seat, taking the reins*
Aerwil: *walks to the other side of the carriage but stops upon seeing a golden cage with a cockatoo inside, placed beside you, right where they were supposed to sit.*
Aerwil: What? Who is this? 
Lótariel: Oh, that’s Prince. He will be coming along. I hope you don’t mind him taking the front seat. He likes the fresh air. 
The cockatoo “Prince”: *looks at you* It’s not that I enjoy fresh air. I just can’t stand their constant jabbering. 
You & Aerwil: *stare at each other*
You: *shrug* Sorry… seems like your spot’s taken. 
Aerwil: Then where am I gonna sit? 
---
Aerwil: *sitting on top of the twins' luggage* Oh, I hate this. 
Calamírë: Don’t be so broody. Someone has to make sure our baggage doesn’t fall during the ride.
Aerwil: Is this really acceptable? 
You: *shrug* Our ladies' orders...
You: Alright, let’s get going. *snaps the reins, making the horses move*
Aerwil: *releases angry bird noises on top of the luggage as you drive off from the city*
---
*On your way to Tirion* 
You: So… Uhm… If I can ask, what are the summer festivals like? I have seen you elves have them before, but... what do you like to do in there? 
Calamírë: *scoffs* What? You have never been to a festival before? 
You: Uhm... no...That’s why I asked. 
Lótariel: Oh, I heard that you maiar of Manwe can understand other birds. Is that true? Can you tell what Prince is saying? I talk to him a lot, and he often signs to me. We have a deep connection, you see.
The cockatoo “Prince”: Actually, I just sing about what a big head she has. Honestly speaking, I would rather fly myself into a window and break my neck and listen to her empty-minded jabbing. 
You: *awkwardly looks at him* Yeah... we can understand other birds. 
The cockatoo “Prince”: She just goes on about princes and happy marriages, and will stomp her feet when reality isn't like how she imagined it.
The cockatoo “Prince”: Like, hello, the world doesn't spin around fantasies, you single-minded goldfish.
The cockatoo “Prince”: And the other one, oh, she’s just the worst. When she wants something, she will either demand it or take it. And guess what happens when she can get that thing? She gets high and nosy, losing interest when it's something that doesn't meet her expectations.
The cockatoo “Prince”: Luckily, it’s not all bad. Sometimes I get to see them undressed when they take a bath. Those golden heads are as empty as hollow trees, but at least they’re pretty to look at. *giggles*
Lótariel: Ooh, what is he saying? 
You: He’s just… expressing how much he enjoys the fresh air. 
The cockatoo “Prince”: Hey buddy, do me a favor when we get there? Release me from my cage so I can ditch those chicks. I would really appreciate it if I got a chance to have some action with the local cockatoo ladies. 
You: *ignore the bird* How are you doing up there, Aerwil? 
Aerwil: *on top of the luggage* Could be better. *snatches bugs in their mouth* 
Aerwil: *munching on them* but at least I get a free snack up here. 
Calamírë: *disgusted* Gross... 
You: So… King Ingwe mentioned possible suitors. Are there any particular people who pique your interest, my ladies?
Lótariel: *giggles* What do you think the festival is for? 
Calamírë: Valinor’s finest noble bachelors will be attending there. Like nobles from the house of King Olwe and King Finwe. 
Lótariel: And they're so good-looking. Oh, I really hope Prince Finrod is there. He’s so handsome. 
Calamírë: Lottie. Haven’t you heard that he has taken a fancy to Amarie? And besides, he's our distant cousin.
Lótariel: Well, it hasn’t been said they’re officially courting. So, technically, I still have time. And we're distant cousins, so I don't think that will be an issue. Or maybe I could go with someone from Prince Fingolfin's house. Who are you gonna go for? 
Calamírë: Who else, than Maedhros? He hasn’t been with a wife for a while. 
Lótariel: I thought his father did not approve of Vanyar. 
Calamírë: He’ll change his mind. How can he say no if his son marries one of King Ingwe’s nieces? 
You: *awkwardly silent* 
The cockatoo “Prince”: See? Twisted little gold raccoons. And those elf lads have like zero interest in them. 
You: *look at him, annoyed and unintentionally pulling the rein* Can you shut up?
Aerwil: (Name), watch out! 
You: *Yank the reins sharply as your carriage nearly crashes into another, forcing the horses into a sudden maneuver that sends the carriage lurching off balance.*
The cockatoo “Prince”: *shrieks as his cage stumbles over the edge*
You: *lunge over the seat, grabbing the cage just in time. Straining to pull it back while still holding the reins, you struggle to steady the carriage as it veers erratically down the path.*
Lelyavainë twins: *shriek*
Aerwil: *screams as they hold on to the baggage with their dear life*
You: *pull Prince’s cage back and then pull the reins, making the carriage come to a stop*
Aerwil: *Gets thrown off with the luggage as the ropes snap from the sudden stop, tumbling down the hill in a chaotic roll.*
You: *exhaling after stopping the carriage* Aerwil. Are you alright? 
Aerwil: *holding their back after getting up* Yeah. I’m fine. I really wish I could use my wings. This form is so restricting.
You: How are the twins? 
Aerwil: I’ll check. *opens the carriage door* Are you two alright?
Calamírë: By the valar, Lottie, your nose. 
Lótariel: *has a cut on a nose* By the valar, Callie, your lip. 
Calamírë: *feels the cut on her lips* 
Calamírë & Lótariel: *shrieks*
Aerwil: *close the door*
You: So? 
Aerwil: Yeah... we’re doomed. 
You: *whines sadly in bird*
The cockatoo “Prince”: *chirps*
---
*after getting back on the road and making a stop in a nearby town*
Calamírë: This is your fault!
 Lótariel: We can’t appear like this!
You: Calm down. Those are easy to fix. Luckily, we know healing magic. Just one touch and they’ll be gone. *your hand glows*
Calamírë: No! You screwed up enough! Don’t you dare touch us with those hands! 
You: *pull your hand back* Okay. 
Aerwil: Well… I’m sure no one will even notice. Those little scars are barely eye-catching.
Lótariel: *horrified* Scars? 
You & Aerwil: *flinces*
Lótariel: *ready to cry* So, you’re telling me we’re gonna be disfigured forever? 
Calamírë: *cries* No! 
Aerwil: *looks at you* (What are we gonna do?)
You: (I don’t know! This has gone completely out of hand!)
Calamírë: *starts heaving*
Aerwil: Woah woah. What’s happening? 
Lótariel: Oh, Eru, she’s gonna have a BF! 
You: A what?
Lótariel: A bitch fit! 
Aerwil: No no no no, please don’t have a bitch fit. I’m sure we can figure something out. 
Calamírë: How! We can’t go back home! Uncle Ingwe would be disappointed that we did not attend the festival. 
Lótariel: *crying* But we can’t attend the festival like this either.
Calamírë: *takes deep breaths* Alright, Callie. You can think of something to salvage this.  
Calamírë: *looks at you and Aerwil* You two can shapeshift, right?
You: *scared* Uh...Yes? 
Calamírë: Then you have to go in our stead. 
Aerwil: What? We can’t do that?  
Calamírë: Yes. You can, and you will. You shapeshift into us, attend the festival, or we will tell our uncle that you damaged our faces!
Calamírë: Or better, we tell King Manwe, how you screwed up our faces! 
You & Aerwil: *panic* No! 
Calamírë: Then do as I say! Attend the festival in our place, or face the consequences!
You & Aerwil: *glance at each other *
You: I don’t think we have a choice here. 
Aerwil: *whines in despair*
___
*preparing under the twins' instructions*
Aerwil: *shapeshifts*
Lótariel: No. No. No.
Lótariel: Do I really look like that to you?
Aerwil: *in Lótariel's form* Please, my lady. This is the most accurate I can get.
Lótariel: You look nothing like me?
Aerwil: WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DON'T LOOK LIKE YOU I'M LITERALLY MIRRORING YOU???!!!!
---
You: *wheeze as Calamírë is tying a corset on you* My lady, does it really need to be that tight?
Calamírë: Well, you need to look good. And I have an excellent waist, so suck it up.
You: *gasp as you feel the corset becoming tighter around your ribs* Manwe, have mercy.
Calamírë: *finally stops* Now, which dress should I go with?
Calamírë: *shuffling through her wardrobe* No. No. No. Oh, absolutely not.
You: *whine painfully as she is taking forever*
---
You & Aerwil: *wince and frown in pain as the twins are doing your hair while talking*
Aerwil: *winces as their hair was getting pulled hard* (Auh! Oh! This is torture!)
You: *grimace from the same pain* (Hold on, my friend!)
*After hours of doing your hair*
Lelyavainë: *Steps back to admire the new hairstyles.*
You & Aerwil: *Sit stiffly, silently praying as your scalps burn with pain.*
Calamírë: Nope. Let's do something else.
Lótariel: I agree. I wouldn't go there either.
You & Aerwil: *Exchange a look and nearly burst into tears.*
---
*Arriving at Tirion*
You & Aerwil: *step out of the carriage, after many gruelling hours, you were now perfectly disguised as the Lelyavainë twins*
You (disguised as Calamírë): Okay, you ready? 
Aerwil (disguised as Lótariel): This is a really bad idea. *frowning*
You: What’s wrong? Why are you making those faces? 
Aerwil: These braids on my head are killing me. It feels like a hundred needles stabbing my scalp.
You: I feel you. But honestly, I’d take that over this death trap squeezing the life out of my ribs. *shift uncomfortably in the corset*
The cockatoo “Prince”: *in the cage held by Aerwil* Well, let me tell you ladies. I wouldn't mind getting a piece out of you two right now. *gigles*
You & Aerwil: *glance at the cockatoo disgusted*
Aerwil: You think Lottie would notice if I eat him?
You: Let's just go inside and get this over with.
You: *take a deep breath* The faster we get this done, the faster we can go back to our true forms and forget this ever happened.
You: Let's go.
You & Aerwil: *Enter the palace where you will be staying for the festival*
(End of Part 1)
Taglist: @edensrose
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animatorweirdo · 1 month ago
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Alright y'all. I watched the movie The Call of the Wild (amazing movie). And now a new concept has been spinning around in my head. In this story, you are a new livestock guardian dog that came to this farm as a new addition with your sibling. Naturally curious, after settling in your new home, you get permission to look around the infamous wildland of Beleriand.
You meet the reserved but honorable wolves of Megeroth woods (the Sindar clan). You meet the wise and powerful wild horses. And then you meet and befriend a wolf, whom you begin to feel drawn to. But then, troubles arise when a new pack of wolves appears and attempts to hunt your farm's livestock (your new wolf friend being one of them). Later, it's discovered that the pack is one of the original wolf clans (the Noldor clan) that departed from the Beleriand wildland in the great Wandering. Now they had returned.
After the misunderstanding, their king had promised to honor the rules that had allowed the wolves of Menegroth, the wild horse herds, and the livestock guardian dogs to coexist. However, many wolves in the Noldor clan do not seemingly intend to do the same.
Relationships become complicated. You are forced to defend yourself and those you are meant to protect from wolves who want nothing more than to eat to their hearts' content. Will peaceful coexistence be established, or will everything fall into ruin?
(I have so many ideas for it. I kinda started concepting the characters. But I really need to get going with my ongoing projects😭)
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animatorweirdo · 1 month ago
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A Dragon who is a... Booknerd?
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There had been a rumour about a dragon of Morgoth making its lair somewhere in the elven lands. Fingon gets the task of investigating and chasing the dragon away. However, the dragon was not what he expected.
(Author's note: I'm really sorry for not posting as often. Life has been busy 😭. Hope you enjoy this crack fic.)
Warnings: A lot of assumption making, some mentions of dead people, and Celegorm gets called a pedo.
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Fingon: *stands before the entrance of a cave where the dragon was rumored to live.*
Fingon: Dragon! I demand that you come out here right now. 
*Silence fills the air* 
Fingon: *sees eyes looking back at him from the shadows of the cave*
You: *Slowly walk out of the cave, standing before the elves in your glory. Your eyes were golden and sharp. Your scales glimmered in the light of the sun, and you stretched your wings, making yourself look bigger.* 
Fingon: *Looks at your razor-sharp claws and glances at your teeth. He also takes notice of the faint smoke rising from your nostrils. He was slightly intimidated, but kept his composure.*
Fingon: *pulling out his sword and pointing it at you* You and your kind are not welcome on these lands. I demand that you leave at once. 
You: *Look at him intently* 
Fingon: *sweats lightly and prepares himself for a fight* 
You: *relax and shrug your shoulders* Okay. 
Fingon: *Baffled.* Wait… what? You will actually leave? 
You: *raise your paws* Hey, you and your people were on these lands first, so it’s rightfully your turf. I won’t fight you for it, and if my presence is such an inconvenience, I’ll leave. 
You: I just need you to give me a few days to find a new home elsewhere and move my books. Would that be too much to ask? 
Fingon: Oh, no! That’s not too much to ask. Take the time you need. 
Fingon: Wait, did you say books? 
You: Yeah, my hoard of books. And before you assume anything, no, I did not steal them. I collected them when no one else wanted them. You’ll be surprised how many good books people throw away these days. 
Fingon: No… it just. Since you are a dragon, I would assume you have a hoard of gold and treasures. Isn’t that what you dragons usually collect?  
You: *frown* Now that’s just a stereotype you people created about us. We dragons actually have different preferences when it comes to our hoards. 
You: Some dragons like gold and treasures, some dragons enjoy collecting uniquely shaped rocks, and believe it or not, some of them like collecting pillows because they’re comfortable to sleep on. 
You: And some even like collecting and taking care of animals. My cousin Larry has quite a wide hoard of frogs, because he finds them fascinating and likes to dress them up in funny little hats. 
Fingon: Uhm… 
You: I happen to enjoy good stories, so I collect and hoard books. I have even managed to preserve a few good classics written by your people. 
Fingon: Yeah. yeah. You made your point. I’m sorry. I did not mean to offend you and your kind. 
Fingon: So… how long do you think you will be able to move your hoard?
You: I think… I will be done in a week. 
Fingon: A week? I heard you haven’t been on these lands for longer than three days. How big is your hoard of books? 
You: You… might want to come inside and see it for yourself. 
*Fingon follows you inside your cave. *
Fingon: *astonished by the piles of books that cover each corner of your cave. It was like you had an entire library for a cave.*
Fingon: How… did you manage to acquire all these books? 
You: Like I said. I collected them when no one else wanted them. 
You: By the way, I borrowed some books from your city’s local library. So, would it be too much to ask if you return them for me? 
Fingon: You… borrowed books from our library? How? 
You: I have a library card. *Hold a tiny card between your talons.*
Fingon: How… never mind. If you have a library card and have been borrowing books from our library. How come we never noticed you? 
You: I can shapeshift. I turn myself into a regular person whenever I visit your library because common sense tells me you would not let me borrow anything if I came as a fire-breathing dragon. 
Fingon: I… good point. *sighs* Okay… I guess I can return the books for you. 
You: *turns around to go through your books* Thanks. I will be very busy moving my hoard, so I appreciate this.
You: Here. *Drop a pile of books next to him*
Fingon: *looks at the book pile next to him, as it was the same height as him*
***
*One week later, after you moved out of Fingon’s lands* 
Fingon: *on a relaxing ride in another land* Finally. I can relax from my duties and enjoy some sights. 
Fingon: *thinks of you* I wonder how that dragon is doing. Compared to their other kin, they weren’t that bad. 
Fingon: *stops when he hears a sound and sees you fly over him. * Oh, there they are. If they are here, they must live somewhere close by. Maybe I could visit and say hello.
Fingon: *sees you fly toward a human village* Oh no… It could’t be. Harmless or not, it seems even they can’t resist the temptation for destruction. I must warn the people of that village. 
Fingon: *kicks his heels, making his horse gallop toward the village* 
Fingon: *sees you hiding beneath a tree* Great, I have time to stop them before they can wreak havoc. 
Fingon: *takes out his sword and jumps off his horse* Halt! I won’t allow you to cause harm to these — 
Fingon: *stops when he sees human children sitting around you, listening and looking at a book you were reading to them. *
You: Then the knight drew his sword against the ferocious dragon, slaying the mighty beast, and saving the princess. After returning the princess to her home, the king allowed the knight to marry the princess, and they lived happily ever after. 
You: The end *close the book.*
Little boy: Read it again and again!
Little girl: Nuh-uh! It’s my book's turn now.
You: *chuckles* Now, now, let’s not argue. Remember our little deal. Now, try to pronounce the letters of the characters that appear in the book. Follow my lead. 
You & The kids: D-R-A-G-ON, K-N-I-G-H-T, and P-R-I-N-C-E-S-S! 
You: Well done! You are already so good. I’m afraid you’ll be fluent readers before the end of this week, then you’ll have no need for me. *plays hurt*
The kids: *laughs* No, we do. 
Little boy: You are the best storyteller. I want to hear you read more awesome stories with knights and dragons. 
Little girl: Yeah, you are also the nicest dragon we know. We don’t want you to stop telling us stories. 
You: Oh, goodness, are you sure you aren’t knights in disguises because you are slaying me with your kind and thoughtful words. 
The kids: *gigles*
You: *laugh with them before noticing Fingon*
*You both stare at each other* 
You: What? 
Fingon: You’re… reading to these children and teaching them to read? 
You: Yeah, so? 
Fingon: Sorry, it’s just…when I saw you flying toward the village. I thought you had… other intentions. 
You: *deadpan* Let me guess, you thought I was gonna burn the village to the ground. 
Fingon: No, no, not at all. 
You: Oh, save it. You thought I was gonna burn the village to the ground. Isn’t that why you have your sword unsheathed? 
Fingon: *quickly sheathes his sword*
Little girl: Who’s that?
You: Oh, just a very rude person. He assumes I’m mean because I’m a dragon. He kinda chased me away from my last home, even though I did nothing wrong. 
Fingon: Wait, hold on. That’s not how it went. 
Little boy: That’s so mean! 
Little girl: Yeah, (Name) is the nicest dragon we know!
Little boy: *points at Fingon* You’re a meanie! 
The Kids: *chanting and pointing at him* Meanie! Meanie! Meanie! 
You: *grins mischevously*
Fingon: *slightly glares at you* 
***
*After sending the kids home, you and Fingon walk to your new cave that was some miles away from the village*
Fingon: You enjoyed that, didn’t you? 
You: I might not be like most of my kin, but I do enjoy making someone’s life just a tid difficult when opportunity comes, especially if that someone did something wrong to me. 
Fingon: You’re still onto that chasing you out of my people's lands? You left willingly. 
You: I know, but it doesn’t mean I can’t feel a bit resentful for that. You did demand me to leave simply based on the fact that I am a dragon, even though I was minding my own business and caused harm to no one. 
Fingon: Well… your kind don’t exactly have a good reputation. There are some dragons who willingly serve Morgoth and cause destruction at his orders. So, can you really blame me for assuming you might be like those dragons? 
You: No, I don't. You’re right about that, but still, perhaps investigating if I’m actually doing something bad rather than assuming I am bad would have been much appreciated. 
You: Like today… You thought I was gonna burn down an innocent human village, even though I caused no harm to you and your people the last time we met. 
Fingon: That was a bit different. What else was I supposed to think when I saw you fly toward it and release a fierce roar? 
You: I was letting them know I was coming. Would you not let people know you were coming to visit their place, or do you like to appear unannounced?
Fingon: Anyway… how did you end up teaching those children how to read? 
You: When I was settling down in my new cave, one of the village kids happened to stumble in and find me. I read them a story or two, and then news spread, and other kids started visiting me, wanting me to read them stories. 
Fingon: And their parents are okay with that? 
You: Oh, they were the ones who asked me to teach their kids how to read and write. Apparently, the village doesn’t have anyone who could teach those skills, and hiring a teacher has become impossibly costly these days. So, when they found out I knew how to read and write, they pretty much begged me to teach their children. 
You: I pitied their situation, so I agreed. They actually give me delicious pastries and books I might want in my hoard in return. A fair payment, in my opinion. 
Fingon: Oh… that’s understandable. But I’m surprised they’re fine with you being a dragon and all. 
You: Well… they told me they judge people by their actions, not by appearance. So, I can say they’re less judgmental than you are. 
Fingon: *glares at you*
***
*Fingon’s second visit to you*
Fingon: So, do you just read books most of the day? 
You: *reading a book* I sometimes go hunting, but with the village now paying me with pastries and food. I get to spend more time reading. 
You: Why do you ask?
Fingon: Just curious. I have never seen a dragon be more interested in a simple activity like reading. 
You: What? Are you telling me a dragon can’t be interested in reading? Are you being judgmental again? 
Fingon: No. That’s not what I meant. I’m not being judgmental. 
You: Sounds to me— you are. Since you are so baffled by the sight of a dragon liking to read instead of burning cities to the ground and being an evil incarnate, like you expected me to be. 
Fingon: Will you let that go already? Besides, don't tell me you dragons aren't judgmental? Don’t most of you think you’re better than most creatures? 
You: Well, I heard that you Noldor attacked a group of boatmakers once and stole their boats, and then you burned them like it wasn’t enough salt in the wound. But you don’t see me judging you for it or assuming you’re going around burning boats, now do you?
Fingon: That was… 
You: *look at him expectantly*
Fingon: Never mind. 
You: How about you try reading a book and see why I like reading so much? 
Fingon: No, thank you. I’m not much of a book person. Never found the interest. I like staying outdoors and traveling around places. 
You: You can read books outdoors. And when it comes to books, you just need to find a book that kinda goes with your hobbies. I think I have a book that might interest you. *look around your books* here *hand him a book.*
Fingon: *reads the summary* That’s nice, but books don’t really interest me much, and then I have difficulties staying put. 
You: Just read the first chapters, and then give me your opinion. Like that one saying goes – don’t judge a book by its cover. 
Fingon: *opens the book* Okay, but I highly doubt that I would be – *reads the first lines* 
Fingon: Oh, that’s a strong opening. 
Fingon: *continues reading*
Fingon: *sits down beside you* I guess… I could sit down for a moment. The first chapter is surprisingly interesting. 
You: I know, right? 
***
*Fingon’s tenth visit*
Fingon: *reading the book while leaning on you* Hey, (Name), I have a question. What was your first reading experience? 
You: I was a little hatcling back then and lived in my birthplace in Angband. There was this one elven thrall who worked in taking care of the well-being of the hatchlings. He was carrying this little book with him, so I asked him about it, and he told me it held stories.
You: Stories he used to tell his children.
Fingon: Awww. 
You: I was fascinated by them, so I asked him to tell them to me. In return, I promised to protect him from other violent hatchlings or orcs who wanted to cause him harm. 
You: He also taught me how to read and write. So, I can thank him for those skills. 
Fingon: What happened to him? 
You: *frowns* Let’s just say one adult dragon I hated felt too lazy to hunt or wait for his food, so he decided to make a meal out of my elven friend. 
Fingon: Oh… 
You: And to add salt to the wound, that dragon purposely burned the little book in front of me, taking the last thing I had from my elven friend.
Fingon: I’m… sorry to hear that. 
You: Don’t worry. When I got older, I got my revenge. *grins* Can you guess what I did? 
Fingon: No. What?
You: When that dragon went on a hunt, I sneaked into his lair where his treasure hoard was located. I hid a load of warg excrements under the piles and covered them with enough coins to hide the smell. 
You: I got the orcs to help me out. They’re easy to bribe when it comes to dragon’s gold. 
You: *giggles* Let’s just say, the face that dragon made when he came back and laid on his hoard was priceless. His chest was stained with the brown stuff and his coins. 
You: And that's not all, I hid some of his hoard in a lair of another dragon I hated. Keep in mind that these two dragons hated each other. I hid some of the warg's excrement there too, making it look like that dragon was responsible for the whole thing.
You: The fight that broke out was violent. There was blood and fire everywhere. The first dragon got both of his eyes gouged out, and the other dragon lost one of his wings. It literally took several trolls to get them off each other.
Fingon: That’s... quite a revenge. 
You: Hey, when it comes to those we consider friends, we will make sure those who wrong them do not go unpunished. 
You: And guess what– they never traced it back to me. 
You: *exhales* After I got older, I realized how toxic the environment I was living in. So, I ditched my birthplace and never came back. 
Fingon: Woah… You are a type of booknerd no one should piss off. 
You: In truth, most of us dragons want to mind our business. We only strike back if you threaten us or do something bad. 
Fingon: I keep that in mind. Wound’t want to be a target of your revenge? 
You: That’s the first time you made a wise statement. 
Fingon: Hey, would you avenge me if something happened to me? 
You: I don’t think we’re there yet. But if someone gives you trouble, let me know and I'll give them a scare. 
***
*Maybe Fingon’s 22th visit. He went to get some pastries from the village, and someone had followed him to you.*
Celegorm: So, you’re the dragon? 
You: *looks at him while the kids are seated between your arms* Eh? Who are you? 
Celegorm: Oh, you should know, I’m one of Beleriand’s greatest hunters, and you will make a fine hunting prize. 
You: I… have no idea who you are. 
Celegorm: Let’s just say I am the predator when it comes to hunting all living beings. 
You: A predator? 
You: *goes through the word encyclopedia in your mind before a lightbulb lights up in your head. *
You: *fear in your voice* Oh no… I know what you are. 
Celegorm: That’s right. I’m — 
You: *points at him* A PEDO!!!
Celegorm: Wait, what? 
You: *picks up the children* Quickly, children, we must get back to your parents. You must stay away from this man!!! 
You: *flies to the village* A PEDO!!! 
Fingon: *walking back with pastries in hand*
You: *Unexpectantly land in front of him, letting down the children* Quickly, hide your children! There’s a dangerous man here! 
The villager & kids: *hide in the houses*
Fingon: *confused* What’s going on? 
Celegorm: *appears in the village* 
You: *stand over Fingon, keeping your paw protectively in front of him* Stand back, Fingon! That freak of nature just admitted he’s a pedo! 
Fingon: A what now? 
You: A pedophile! A person who has a concerning sexual interest in children and other living beings.
Celegorm: No, that’s not what I meant! This is a huge misunderstanding! 
You: He called himself a predator. That is also a term for a pedophile. 
You: *puffing smoke out of your nostrils* So, stand back, you fiend! 
*heavy silence*
Fingon: *snorts*
You: What? 
Fingon: This is the first time you mistakenly made an assumption. 
Celegorm: See! This is just a misunderstanding. When I said predator, I meant as in apex hunter, not as this person with a sexual interest in children! 
Fingon: *patting your paw down* He’s telling the truth. You can calm down.
You: Well, he still made a concerning threat to me. 
Fingon: What kind of threat?
You: He said he was gonna make me his hunting prize. 
Fingon: *silent as he looked at Celegorm* 
Celegorm: *sweats nervously*
Fingon: You know what? Burn him if you want. 
You: With pleasure! *your chest glows as you prepare to fire*
Celegorm: *already running away* HEY!!!
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animatorweirdo · 2 months ago
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Oh, Sunny, I really had to take breaks while reading this because of how hard I was laughing 🤣🤣🤣 This really made my day.
Being A Modern Reader In Gondolin And Ending Up As Turgon’s Therapist
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A/N: I felt like I was drunk when I wrote this yet hella proud at what I whipped up. Decided to give something humorous for our dear King. I rarely ever write for him. I hope you all enjoy this for Turgon!
Warning: crack, modern reader in Middle Earth, humour, a teeny bit of dark humour
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˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t mean to fall into Middle-earth, obviously. One minute you were lying in bed reading The Silmarillion and judging the characters’ decisions with crisps in your lap, the next minute you were standing in the middle of Gondolin’s great square in your hoodie and socks, blinking at a bunch of impossibly pretty elves aiming spears at your face.
˚₊‧꒰ა After the initial panic, miscommunication, and someone declaring you a ‘Maiar of questionable attire,’ you got bundled up and dragged before King Turgon like some kind of weird little cryptid. You weren’t even allowed to finish your sentence explaining that no, you weren’t a threat, just very confused and maybe a bit chilly.
˚₊‧꒰ა They didn’t know what to do with you. You were clearly mortal, clearly odd, and very obviously not from around here. And by the time you were brought to Turgon, you were muttering things like, “Am I in some Renaissance fair simulation?” you’d already convinced three guards that you were a travelling jester, a wandering scholar, and someone named ‘Dave.’
˚₊‧꒰ა But when Turgon tried to question you and you started rambling—a chaotic mix of sarcasm, panic, and unsolicited psychoanalysis of his family issues — he sat there like you’d slapped him. Then nodded slowly and said, “Thou speakest...strangely. But perchance...wisely?”
˚₊‧꒰ა You laughed. Right in his face. “Dude, I have no qualifications for this.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “I have known many with qualifications who have spoken far less sense,” he’d replied dryly.
˚₊‧꒰ა Thus began your absolutely absurd new role in Gondolin as the king’s unofficial therapist. You got a cushy room in the palace, daily food deliveries (even if you missed chocolate and cheesecake terribly), and a schedule that consisted mostly of Turgon showing up unannounced at weird hours with what he called ‘matters of import’ and what you called ‘your weekly emotional constipation’.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Are you certain this is wise?” he asked once, after you interrupted one of his lengthy metaphors about destiny and doom with “Bro, just say you’ve got trust issues and call it a day.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Absolutely not wise,” you said, “but it’s either me or that stone you’ve been brooding at for the past hour. I’m cheaper and marginally more entertaining.”
˚₊‧꒰ა You had zero training in psychology, but you did survive an apartment with a compulsive liar and three philosophy majors, so you considered yourself mentally prepared.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Thou art unlike any healer I have known,” he muttered once as you handed him a mug of herbal tea and told him to sit the hell down and stop monologuing like a Shakespearean ghost.
˚₊‧꒰ა You spoke with modern slang and didn’t bother adjusting it, which confused everyone, especially Turgon. You’d say things like “Bro, that’s a red flag if I’ve ever seen one,” and he’d nod solemnly and ask if red banners were a sign of ill fortune in your realm.
˚₊‧꒰ა Your sense of humour didn’t help either. You told him straight-up that his entire family needed therapy, a good punch-up, and maybe some hugs (though you weren’t going to provide the last bit personally because you had boundaries).
˚₊‧꒰ა “Have you ever considered that maybe your obsession with secrecy and control is rooted in unprocessed grief and inherited trauma?” you asked him once while playing with a fidget spinner you’d had in your hoodie pocket the whole time.
˚₊‧꒰ა He blinked slowly. “What…is that device?”
˚₊‧꒰ა “An artefact of my homeland. Helps me not scream.”
˚₊‧꒰ა He genuinely called you “Wise Counsellor” in public once. You choked on your tea and told him if he didn’t stop, you were going to have a full existential breakdown in front of Idril.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Then would that not be an honest expression of thine inner torment?”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Man, I swear to God.”
˚₊‧꒰ა He would spend hours pacing while you lounged sideways in an oversized chair, biting into whatever Gondolindrim pastry you’d nicked, nodding thoughtfully and going, “Sounds like a classic control freak scenario to me. Have you tried...not bottling up every emotion until you explode and ruin everyone's lives?”
˚₊‧꒰ა “I am the King of Gondolin,” he once said with great dignity.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Yeah,” you replied, “and kings can cry too. It’s character development.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Your slang confused him but delighted Idril, who started repeating your phrases with a weirdly accurate tone. You once heard her tell Maeglin “Pipe down, drama queen,” and felt equal parts proud and terrified.
˚₊‧꒰ა Of course, because of that, Maeglin did not like you. You called him “Captain Red Flag” once and he’s been glaring ever since.
˚₊‧꒰ა “You mock what you do not understand,” he sneered at you during one particularly tense council.
˚₊‧꒰ა “No, I mock what needs mocking, and mate, you’re about five bad decisions away from an evil monologue.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Turgon did take a strange comfort in your irreverence. You didn’t grovel, didn’t put him on a pedestal, and instead talked to him like someone who just happened to be in charge of an entire city and probably needed to calm down before he gave himself an aneurysm.
˚₊‧꒰ა Sometimes he’d get really intense, talking about the Doom of the Noldor and his burden as king and the weight of fate and prophecy. You’d just squint and say, “Right, but when’s the last time you slept?”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Sleep is a gift the weary may not always claim.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that or else I’d smack you with this pillow right to sleep…Your Majesty.”
˚₊‧꒰ა You once started writing down some of his problems on a piece of parchment just to map things out, and when he saw your modern shorthand and diagrams, he genuinely thought you were some kind of prophetic scribe.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Why are there tiny arrows drawn between ‘uncle trauma’ and ‘overcompensation’?”
˚₊‧꒰ა “It’s a flowchart, Turgon. Get with the programme.”
˚₊‧꒰ა He didn’t understand your dark humour at first. When you said things like, “Yeah, if I had to run this city I’d simply launch myself off the tower and call it a day,” he’d look vaguely alarmed. You had to explain you weren’t actually suicidal, you were just a bit ‘normal’ and fundamentally tired.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Thou hast a most perplexing way of making light of thy suffering,” he once remarked.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Yeah, it’s either that or scream forever. You’re lucky I’m funny.”
˚₊‧꒰ა The guards got used to you wandering around in odd clothes muttering to yourself and asking things like “What’s the elvish equivalent of a panic attack?” or “If I wanted to prank someone with glitter, where would I find glitter in Gondolin?”
˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t try to sound wise or mystical. You gave blunt, practical advice that was shockingly effective. When he stressed about Maeglin being weird and secretive, you just said, “Maybe stop being cryptic yourself and just ask him what’s eating him before he grows into a fully-fledged villain.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Thou thinkest he might turn to darkness?”
˚₊‧꒰ა “I mean, his name literally means ‘sharp glance’ or some edgy nonsense. He broods like it’s his job.”
˚₊‧꒰ა At one point you got into a row with Salgant who thought you were a disgrace to the court. You told him his shoes were ugly and his trumpet playing sounded like a dying goose. You were nearly exiled until Turgon calmly said, “If thou removest my counsellor, I shall be left alone with my thoughts. I do not wish that.”
˚₊‧꒰ა You found out about the whole “Doom of Mandos” situation and yelled at Turgon for about fifteen minutes. “Why is everything in this realm so bloody doom-laden? Haven’t you lot considered just…not dying tragically for once?”
˚₊‧꒰ა “It is not within our power to escape fate.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Have you tried therapy? Oh shit wait, that’s me. Guess I’m doing a shitty job.”
˚₊‧꒰ა You once gifted him popcorn—after you snuck into Galdor’s kitchen and showed the cook how to take kernels and turn it into tiny puffs of goodness—and told him “Here’s a treat and a weapon. Throw it at the heads of people who annoy you while munching on them.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Glorfindel was mildly obsessed with your vocabulary and kept trying to use modern phrases incorrectly. You once heard him call Ecthelion “a total babe magnet” and nearly choked on your tea.
˚₊‧꒰ა Turgon became oddly attached to your honesty. “You never bow to me,” he said.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Yeah, I’m allergic to kneeling. I look young but I got old people joints. Hear that crack? Good, I’m old in my youth.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “You are not from this world, so very peculiar, and yet you offer comfort as if you know mine.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Yeah, that’s called trauma bonding. Happens when you hang out with enough emotionally repressed people.”
˚₊‧꒰ა He genuinely thought you had powers for a while because your advice, despite being phrased like Twitter memes, tended to be eerily on point. You told him it was just years of reading fanfiction and overthinking relationships that made you an expert in elf drama.
˚₊‧꒰ა One night he came to your room after a nightmare about the fall of Gondolin. You let him sit there quietly while you poured him a drink and said, “Listen, I don’t know how all this is gonna go down, but worrying yourself sick ain’t gonna stop it. Just means you’ll be fretting when it goes wrong.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Thy words are…bleak.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Yeah, but they’re not wrong.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Idril liked you a lot because you make her laugh, referring to her as “the only sane person in this whole glittering nonsense of a city,” and she’d smirk knowingly and say, “You’re not wrong.”
˚₊‧꒰ა You made Turgon take breaks. Actual breaks. You told him he had to have at least one day a week where he didn’t talk about doom, walls, or hidden kingdoms. You’d go on walks and point out birds and say things like “That one’s got main character energy.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Eventually, you stopped correcting people when they referred to you as the king’s seer or counsellor. You figured if the shoe fit (and the pay was good), you might as well run with it.
˚₊‧꒰ა You never forgot where you came from. Occasionally you’d sit alone and mutter things like, “If only Tumblr could see me now.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Turgon once asked, “If thou wert to return to thy world…wouldst thou miss this?”
˚₊‧꒰ა You stared at him, deadpan, and replied, “I’d miss the drama. And the elves. But mostly the food. Sorry.”
˚₊‧꒰ა He actually laughed. A proper, unrestrained laugh. And you knew in that moment you’d accidentally become something of a friend to a man no one else could really talk to.
˚₊‧꒰ა You were still convinced you were going to get someone killed one day with your “advice,” and you told him so regularly. “One day you’re gonna do something I said and it’ll go so wrong, and then it’s on you, sunshine.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “Then I shall accept the blame. But I would still hear thy counsel.”
˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re all mad, but at least you’re funny about it.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Somehow, absurdly, you became a part of Gondolin. A strange, mortal voice in a city of legends, blunt and sarcastic and completely lacking in reverence—but exactly what Turgon needed. Even if he’d never admit it in public.
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animatorweirdo · 2 months ago
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Hey there 🌍💙
I hope you're doing well. Today, I’m reaching out with a heartfelt request. My family is going through an incredibly difficult time, and I need your help to make our story heard.
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@nasr-daher
Even the smallest act of kindness can create ripples of change. Your support means the world—thank you for standing with us! 🙏✨
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animatorweirdo · 3 months ago
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Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍
I hope you're doing well. 🌿
Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻
💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.
Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿
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animatorweirdo · 4 months ago
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💜✨send this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. keep the game going, make someone smile!!! ✨💜
Aww, thank you. This put a smile on my face 😊❤
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animatorweirdo · 4 months ago
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*An orc appears*
Maedhros: *taking out his sword* (Name) step back I'll handle this beast.
You: *hands him Estelle* Here hold her.
Maedhros: *confused but taking your baby into his arms. the babe giggling at the sight of him* (Name) what are you---?
You: *rolls your sleeves up* I handle this.
Maedhros: No. (Name). As a warrior with a sword, I am should be the one to handle this beast.
You: Which is why I can place my baby into your safe hands because with you, she's in the safest place possible.
You: And besides... your brothers have been pissing me off this week, and I really need something to let out my aggression.
You: So...
You: *pull out a burning molotov coctail* ... do you mind?
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He stared at the flaming bottle in your hand, then at the giggling babe in his arms. His lips parted as if to protest, but then he exhaled sharply, a defeated expression marring his face. “…Very well,” he said, adjusting his grip on Estelle as she reached for his braids. “Just don’t set yourself on fire…like last time, please.”
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animatorweirdo · 4 months ago
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You know when you get one of those readers who comments on every chapter of your fic, pointing out their favorite parts and quoting lines that really resonated with them?
Yeah, as a writer, this is an absolute gift. ❤️
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