#Celembrimbor reasons

[winepresswrath]

a thing I like about feanor is that he's so explicitly the best boytm of the story and yet he a) fucks up so frequently and spectacularly (normal, very Greek of him) and b) taps out early and contributes relatively little to the plot except by way of the damage he's already visited on his family and society. Enjoy that for him immensely. sorry baby your legacy is that all of your sons and brothers and nephews and nieces & let us be real almost certainly your sisters have had their personalities and worldviews shaped at least a little bit by your mommy issues.

[saturn-s-moon]

So, now that it's over here are some of my favorite pieces from tolkientober!

Day 6 - song. Maglor singing his angsty songs on the shore was all I could think abt lol

Day 9 - star. Cliche but star of eärendil + the kidnap family cuz I'm obsessed with them sorry

Day 10 - evil. Annatar & Celembrimbor !! They make me a Bit insane

Day 11 - king - Now the cliché thing would be just aragorn (return of the king is literally about him) but I love the silm too much to not include my elves so. My actual fav drawing in this entire thing !!! Colors!!!!

Day 14 - love. Celeborn + Galadriel getting married in traditional Tang dynasty clothes cuz of Reasons. Last colored one and I love this one too !!

Day 15 - tree. Coming up w something for this was hard but I had just watched fotr extended edition and thought about these parallels

Day 25 - Grow(th) . I had just read Little Bird and had feels about dad Amras w Elwing so I did this lol

Day 27 - fight. A silly joke cuz Turgon fighting his bisexuality is funny to me (the one talking is aredhel btw)

I have two more but those will be their own separate posts!

Happy Halloween <3

[ceolona]

A bad explanation of Tolkien mythology and the story of Rings of Power (Revised, Full, with Hidden Spoilers)

In the beginning, Eru (the Creator) created the Ainur. The Music of the Ainur created Eä (the Universe) and Arda (the World). The Ainur who entered that Creation as its guardians are known as Valar (greater Ainur) and Maiar (lesser Ainur).

The Ainur are beings of Ëala (incorporeal spirit). They create Fanar (physical manifestations) to house their Ëalar so that they can be physically present in Arda.

In a sense, Ainur are angels. Valar are the upper choir and Maiar are the lower choir.

Many of the Ainur who entered Creation have names. One of them is Vala Aulë (the Smith). One of his associates, Maia Mairon, eventually shifted allegiances to Vala Melkor (the Mighty).

Vala Melkor, the bad boy of the group, was cast out and retreated to Arda. He continued to misbehave on Arda, stealing three Silmarilli and destroying the Two Trees for good measure. The Elves didn’t like this, and gave him a new name: Morgoth (the Great Foe). His new associate, Maia Mairon, assumed a new name for himself: Sauron.

Details aside, a Great War was waged, Morgoth was defeated and cast out to the Void (outside Eä), but Sauron remains at large.

In response to the trouble caused by Sauron, Vala Manwë (the King) formed the Heron Istarion (Order of Wizards) to deal with the problem.

At this point, Rings of Power goes all fanfic, and everything we assumed goes out the window. Just roll with it and click through the "Keep Reading" to see all the spoilery details, both major and minor.

When Rings of Power begins, the Elves are cleaning up the remnants of the war and hunting down Sauron. As they have not found him, Gil-Galad recalls the troops. Galadriel (whose brother Finrod was killed and husband Celeborn is MIA) is on a mission of vengance and refuses orders to return, but eventually gives in. While this is going on, Adar kills Sauron. (Shut up. I know. Keep reading.)

Celembrimbor decides so to start a new undisclosed project, but needs the Dwarves to build better forges. Some rando (The Stranger) falls from the sky, making life challenging for the Harfoots. The Orcs invade the Southlands, a collection of Human (Mannish?) settlements under Elven peacekeeprs.

Time passes. Shit happens. People meet, talk, compare notes.

The Dweller and company, seeking the Second Coming of Sauron, arrive from Rhûn (the Far East) to hunt down the Stranger. Unfortunately for them, The Stranger is not Sauron but an Istar with a memory problem. (Personally, I'm guessing Maia Aiwendil)

Adar tells Galadriel that he killed Sauron. Well, he thinks he did. Remeber: Sauron is an Ainu. When Adar did the deed, Sauron's Fana was destroyed, not his Ëala . It is reasonable to assume that Sauron created a new Fana and ran off to encourage Celebrimbor with his project. Nor is it out of the question that Sauron created yet another Fana to fish Galadriel out of the ocean. (Did I mention there would be spoilers? That's on you.)

Elrond's adventures run in parallel with all this. Somehow, the mission to get the Dwarves' help in building new forges becomes "We need your Mithril or we will die". Celebrimbor's attempts to harness the power of the Mithril nugget fail until Halbrand makes some suggestions. Halbrand fucks off, while Galadriel suggests making four rings with the Mithril: Narya, Vilya, Nenya and Nunya. ("Nunya"? Yeah. Nunya business! Lighten up.)

And that’s where it ends. Three Rings are made, Mordor rises, Sauron disappears, and The Stranger wanders off to Rhûn.

[gi-nathlam-hi]

I just wanna say that with the arrival of isildur we now know that this show is probably going to end on the slopes of Mount Doom with an extra crispy Gil-Galad, jello sandwich Elendil, and utterly despairing Elrond and Isildur who had to watch it happen and I’m not ready.

[ring-smith]

Second Age Week Day 1 - Elves

@secondageweek

The Titles of Celebrimbor

The life of Celembrimbor through the titles and names he has borne. Not technically all in the second age, but the bulk of them are and it was inspired by this competition, so I'll keep it as such.

Gets rather long and a little abstract at times, so if you re on mobile be aware of that.

Crossposted on ao3 titled "The Titles of Celebrimbor" as TheScarletWarrior.

Telperinquar

A father name was quickly given, and so it was in the case of Curufin's son. Staring down at the child in his arms, Curufin considered carefully for a moment.

"Feanaro would undoubtedly call you Curufinwe little one." Curufin murmured quietly. They were alone, the doctor and midwives with his wife, so there was no shame to be had in talking to his son. "The heir of our house should of course have such a name. Like I do."

Yet he hesitated. Curufin had few complaints with his childhood - son of the greatest of the Noldor, why should he? And yet, there was a weight to his name, a pressure to be as great and greater than his father that he rarely liked to admit to. It was not of course, only in his name. "And yet so much of it was, wasn't it." Curufin pondered, staring into the eyes of his child. "Should you too bear that weight?"

He could, of course. No Feanorian would not rise to any weight placed on them. But looking into the babe's eyes, Curufin was struck with the thought that maybe just because he could, does not mean he should.

His father entered then, the midwives finally unable to hamper his entrance any longer. The molten gaze swept to Curufin's son, and a grin the likes of which Curufin had never seen swept across his face.

"Well, my son?" Feanaro was always shining, but happiness made him glow brighter than ever. "Have you got a name?"

"Yes." Replied Curufin. "His name shall be Telperinquar."

Let this be his own when so little else will be.

Hand of Silver

"What does my name mean?" It was an innocent enough question, one Tyelpe did not think should have earned the amused guffaw it did from Uncle Tyelkormo. His father glared at the particular Uncle before replying.

"It means Silver-fisted, or Hand of Silver. Depends on how you translate it to that barbaric Sindarin." Staring at Tyelpe, his father asked roughly "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, Maitimo said that we need to obey the Quenya ban. I'm trying to make up my new name." Pausing for a moment, Tyelpe continued before his father could interrupt like he so often did. "So it would Celebrimbor in Sindar, correct."

Anger coloured his father's expression, but it cooled minutely at Tyelkormo's warning glare. "It would be. I suppose you cannot just shorten your name like mine, so this will have to do for diplomatic reasons only. Outside of them, you're still Telperinquar, still a Noldor, still a Feanorian. Understand?"

"Yes, Father." He replied dutifully. Bowing and taking his leave, Tyelpe pondered on the name. His father clearly didn't like it. But he kinda did. "Celebrimbor. I think I could get used to that."

Heir of Feanor

"You are my heir, you are your Grandfather's heir! You would forsake the line of Feanaro? The greatest of our kind? In his legacy, you would perhaps achieve even a tiny fraction of his glory. Without it, you are no more than a murderer and traitor!"

"I am all those things whether I am of Curfinwe or not! An heir to blood and fire, glory in that there may be, but I see no good here. You know no kindness, give no mercy. And in this madness, I refuse to remain consigned."

"You would disown your own family?!"

"I do. I renounce Feanor, I renounce my blood, and I renounce you. From this point forth, your deeds have no bearing on me."

"Then you are no son and no heir of mine."

Lord of Eregion

The sparkling city shone like the moon on the water below him. A careful construction of several decades, at last Eregion had been finished. Allowing a smile to come through, Celebrimbor stood oblivious to the shocked looks he was getting from the fellow smiths for that.

"Does it meet what you wanted, Lord Celebrimbor?" One of them spoke up, a Nolofinwean Noldor he did not know.

"Well, I would hope it would, given I helped build it." He replied glibly. "It is better than I had believed we could make in such a time."

Before they replied, the voice of Erenion floated up. "Now that you've finally got a bloody home beyond Wherever you fancy, maybe you shall deign to visit once in a while, O'Lord of Eregion?"

Celebrimbor laughed.

Dwarf Friend

Narvi examined the door carefully, taking it in. He shot Celebrimbor a critical look, and he merely raised an eyebrow in response, fighting down the urge to laugh. "Does it match what you envisioned my friend?"

"It supersedes anything I thought could be done with your latest obsession." He admitted, still eyeing the door. In the moonlight the mithril engravings were clearly visible, done in Sindar out of respect for it being the most common language out here that both dwarf and elf were likely to know. "Your work with the mithril is astounding. But..."

"Yes?"

"Why exactly have you put the password on the door? It's not very safe, is it?"

"Quite the contrary." Walking forward, Celebrimbor laid a hand against the cool, fine stone, facing away from his friend. "Not everyone enjoys riddles as much as your dwarves do, or my elves. The word requires one think if you do not already know the password, offering a chance for this door to be used by even people who do not know the password, if only they stop to consider."

Narvi frowned. "But why would anyone other than ours need to use it? Any travellers in Eregion or Khazad-dum can just gain permission and the password from officials."

Still facing away, Celebrimbor was ignorant to the quieter and more grieved tone his voice took. "I have lived through much and more Narvi, and all it has shown me is that nothing lasts forever. Creations of my family even more so. I know that someday, somehow, Eregion will disappear. In peace or war, it will happen. After that time has come and gone, I do not want this friendship between our races to end with us. It should endure, so long as we try to maintain it."

Softening, Narvi walked over and placed a hand against the elf's wrist. "And so it shall, my dearest friend. You have shown me the true strength of character of the elves, and that shall long be treasured after we are gone. You are dwarf friend, and that is taken lightly by none of us."

Head of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain

A rhythmic clang of hammers and the bellow of forge fires vibrated throughout the forge, a swirling confusion of heat and noise. Celebrimbor blocked it out as he focused on the ring in his hands. The sixteenith and final ring, Celebrimbor was applying the layer of script for the last time.

He trusted his people, and for that encouraged them to be the ones to make the rings under Annatar's instruction. The process had been a long and hard way, more mentally exhausting than any project most of them had undergone before. But even Annatar had been surprised by Celebrimbor's ability with mithril, his skill at writing with it, embedding it with the correct spells to make the effect desired. Annatar had taught him what to use and written the words, but Celebrimbor alone applied them to the rings.

And at last it appeared his job was done. Holding it up to the light, Celebrimbor judged it be of matching intensity and nature to its eight companions. He could feel its song, a melody of dark sun and bright night, even while not wearing it. The rings were at last completed.

Turning, he faced the waiting Gwaith-i-Mírdain. Holding the ring aloft, he turned to announce their deepest pride completed, oblivious to the golden eyes watching from the corner.

The Gwaith-i-Mírdain had created work beyond measure, and Celebrimbor had lead them there - fey and fell as that was to be, for now it felt like a triumph.

Ringmaker

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie."

The Ringmaker's song, though few knew it as such. Elrond himself had only known of all but the last three lines being Celebrimbor's thanks to their proximity to Eregion allowing him to send a final mental message. All the army had heard it, yet most assumed it from Sauron. Elrond knew otherwise, for no one felt quite like Celebrimbor.

He supposed, in his own way, Celebrimbor had been almost staking a claim. A final, defiant proclamation that he was the Ringmaker, if not the Ring Lord. A cry in the dark, that all the rings were not Sauron's, but the elves.

Staring at Vilya on his finger, Elrond swore there and then that his cousin will be right in his faith, in his trust, and in his final absolution.

[driftinglightofthewoods]

so a while ago on my other account @oneringindarknessbindthem I made a joke combining Silm characters with South Park.

And now, several months later, my brain just goes:

Maglor: God has smiled upon you, this day! The fate of a nation in your hands! And blessed be the children, we, who fight with all our bravery; till only the righteous stand!

Caranthir: This can't end well.

Maglor: You may get stabbed in the head with a dagger or a sword!

Celegorm: Ah shit.

Maglor: You may be burned to death-

Amras/Amrod: Oh for fucks sake

Maglor: Or skinned alive or worse!

Celembrimbor: WHAT?!

Maglor: But when they torture you, you will not feel the need to run for!

Maedhros: Shut the fuck up Kana.

Maglor: THOUGH YOU DIE LA RESISTANCE LIVES ON!

tagging @first-son-of-finwe because reasons