#High Queen Ravennë

[squirrelwrangler]

Ingwë of Cuiviéven, (9/?)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Look. yes. I know. hasn’t been a real update in years. Didn’t think it was four years. Pretend it’s only been one or two. Oh god please I’m sorry just pick it back up.

Some of the delay was because this wanted to be the short pre-Road Trip chapter and I worried that it won’t be enough without starting to include Oromë ferrying to boys to Valinor. Final scene of family angst means I could delay the Maiar fun times.

Primitive elvish names and terms still left mostly untranslated, but context clues should explain them. More world-building in my mode from Klingon-Promotion-Vanyar and young bucks of Cuiviénen.

...

The earth tremors ceased, and as the duration of their absence lengthened so grew the easing of the Kwendî’s tension and fear. Such mollification was not universal. Enel, chieftain of the Third Tribe, monitored the volume flow of the waterfall beside his village with lingering trepidation, for the quantity of water had diminished in the shakes, and the song of the waterfall had altered. Nervously he awoke and listened for its roar, irrationally fearful that if the cascading water was ever silent, then he that was The-Third-to-Awake would no longer wake. In those first seconds of life, opening his eyes to see the bright stars without knowing what he saw, only their beauty, Enel’s ears had not yet opened as his eyes had. But in the irrational yet deeply emotional center of his mind Enel thought that it was music, not starlight, that woke him. He could not prove this thought, but he believed that when the first drops of water poured into the lake the beautiful sound that was created was the cue that awoke the Kwendî. He wished not to hear of logic establishing that the waterfall flowed over the rocks beside his village in a time before he awoke, because to Enel all time before his existence was null. The song of water hitting the surface of the lake only started when his lungs took in breath, and the working of his lungs only persisted with that song. Waterfall and wakefulness were one and same to him that was The-Third-to-Awake.

Enelyë, his spouse, chastised her spouse for his paranoia, dragging him away from the stakes that he had driven into the muddy bank to measure the water depth and fret over each shift in the watermark and change in color. She told Enel that he saw nothing more than the progression of tides, ignoring the evidence of the receding shore. The Great Mother Lake was eternal. Enel must be wrong. The hammer blows of lightning had not dislodged the stars from the black sky. Thus it followed that none of the earth shakes had touched the water. The shells and beads of her netted cap rattled as she shook her head. Her hand on her spouse’s arm, tugging him from the riverbank, her own ankles sinking deeper into the mud, her voice pleading with Enel to return to their village and attend his duties as leader of the Third Tribe - all noise of Enelyë, all pointless. “Something eats my lake,” Enel muttered. “Something drains it. Enelyë, release me. I must see it. See the proof. You must see it, too. My waterfall.”

Daunted by the ineffectiveness of her efforts to erode the stubborn stone that was her spouse, Enelyë returned to their village and her cold pillow.

Enel stood at that waterfall when the Vala Oromë rode out of the northern shadows atop the luminous silver Nahar. A piercing horn blast heralded Oromë’s arrival, so Enel was not startled when the rider pulled out of the mist. He did not care. The call faded into the darkness beyond Enel’s torch lamp, and silence hung over their meeting. Enel’s wide umber eyes met those of the Vala, unconsciously begging for reassurance but wary of what new missive might upend his world. Before the unseen war to capture Melkor Enel would have treated the arrival of Oromë with glad hope, most eager of the first awoken three to celebrate the Vala’s arrival and aid, but now after the earth tremors and lightning-filled skies he was chary of the Rider’s gifts. His trust had receded with the shoreline. Enel did not yet directly blame Oromë for all the ills that would follow, cursing the Valar along with their apostate Melkor, as they who would name themselves the Penni did. Those were the words of the Unwilling and the first division of the Eldar, a time that had not yet come to pass.

Nahar’s footsteps slowed, the horse reluctant to approach the waterfall, as if he sensed the doubt and coldness of Enel’s thoughts. “I know of your fears,” Oromë called above the roar of the water and the mist that hung above its churning wake, “and I bring a proposal that shall soothe it.”

Oromë’s proposal irrefutably did not.

...

Of the grave conference between Oromë and the first three elves: Imin, Tata, and Enel, little is known and details unspoken. Only Oromë’s words were recorded, his offer of the Valar’s own homeland to the elves, that the Children of Eru should relocate across the vast sea and be enriched by their protection and gifts, greatest of all being the light of the Two Trees. The reluctance of the three chieftains is known and their reasoning easy to guess at. The shores of Cuiviénen, the Great Mother Lake, was all of the world that they knew, and Oromë’s words alone would not cleave them from the site of their birth. The war against Melkor to lay Utumno to its foundations had fostered dread in all Powers that were not the familiar Hunter and his shining horse. Oromë anticipated their reluctance. “Let me choose three to bring with me to Valinor, one from each of your tribe, to see the truth of my words and return to you with their validity, as I myself tarried among you to learn your ways before I returned to my king and kin.”

It is said that Imin nodded first, and that Tata tapped his lips and agreed, and that Enel turned away to look at the waters behind them before he turned back to Oromë and said, “We know the three that you wish to take with you, the three boys that found you.”

“It is fitting,” said Tata, and Imin looked, it is said, to the stars above them as if seeing solace or sign.

“Those three I wish as the ambassadors,” Oromë replied. “They were the first to speak to me and speak on behalf of all Speakers, to inform me of your woes brought upon you by Melkor, of your lives and joys and sorrows, your needs and dreams. Let them speak again in the Maharaxë before the full council of my peers and let them see and hear of what we offer up to the Children of Our Father. They are the three that I choose.”

“Who else but them?” murmured the first leaders of the elves.

...

After their discussion with Oromë, each of the three elves mounted a horse and rode towards a village, leaving in one direction whereas they had rode in from three. To the village that Rúmil founded did Tata ride, and Finwë greeted the news of his task with loquacious delight. Praise flowed like a torrent from his lips, and Tata applauded himself for his wisdom. This orphan boy with his mountain of words and ingratiating attitude was the perfect choice to send to Valinor and bring back accountings of its land. Rúmil and the other Unbegotten adults of their village watched as clever Finwë charmed Chief Tata, nervous that the clever lad would tip the scales into an unctuousness of obvious falsity or his clever tongue edge into an offense. The villagers piled gifts onto their chieftain: beautiful items of metal and ceramic and salt. With loaded bags to weigh down his horse, Tata rode home, head full of new words and Finwë’s eager promises.

Further west at the village at the river’s mouth Enel beheld tall Elwë appoint his brothers as stewards to watch over their people, officially bequeathing their parents’ hut to Elmo. “I know we promised a telu celebration to build you and Linkwînen a new house in which to welcome your firstborn child, but if I am to leave to this land of the Balî, there is no time, and our parents’ house has space,” Elwë said as he clasped his youngest brother’s shoulder.

“I will help,” Olwë added with laughter in his voice to mask his fear. “And sleep in the house of Nôwê when the infant’s cries drive me to tears.” Olwë smiled at his brother, and Elwë rolled his eyes and pointed his knowing gaze to Nôwê’s comely sister. The teasing interplay between the three brothers amused Enel. The-Third-to-Awake regretted that his own son had no siblings, thinking that Nurwë would be strengthened by the support of a brother or sister. The shift in Enel’s mood -and the return of her husband’s attention to her- pleased Enelyë. Of this thought’s naivety one should not be quick to judge, for the third generation of Kwendî were yet unborn and dynastic struggles between siblings and cousins likewise nascent. And the sorrows that this began among the Nelyar Avari, grave as they were, paled to those of other tribes.

Only to his own village did Imin return, the sprawling singular Minyar home ringed by a mighty palisade and pasture pens full of horses and sheep. His son, Inkundû, was not at the gates to greet him and turn the horse loose in a pasture. His son’s absence neither surprised nor consciously aggrieved Imin, and Inkundû was found, as expected, in the cleared circle of the dueling ring, wrestling with Asmalô over leadership of the next hunt. A minor squabble, the bout lasted only to the first ground pin, and Imin watched his firstborn win the match. Inkundû failed to notice his father’s observation, preoccupied with crowing victory as Asmalô rolled his eyes and grumbled a final time about herds moving away from depleted grazing fields. Nor did the chieftain stay to congratulate his son. The dueling ring was a sour reminder of the one that never partook in the rituals. Imin asked if the young man that would be Ingwë was inside the palisade or once more roaming the darkness far from his people. “Skarwô-iondo, where is he?”

Feinting an ignorance of the peevish tone of Imin’s question, Elnaira bowed to her chieftain and answered, “Inside, as he has been since before the Nelya messenger came for you.” Imin turned to the approaching Iminyë and sighed in relief as his wife looped her arms through his and led him deep into the village. He poured his concerns over the meeting into her waiting ear.

“The scarred ones’ son is with Elnaira’s spouse, dutifully helping him butcher and dress meat. I decreed that we roast a sheep to celebrate your return. And if Great Arâmê graces us, a lamb we shall roast.” Iminyë smiled as she walked her husband to the large campfire prepared with grilling racks and beyond to where several elves knelt over animal carcasses with various stone knives. Two elves who were butchering a young sheep carcass, carefully separating the ribs into beautiful racks, lifted their heads at Imin and Iminyë’s approach, but it was the third elf still focused on the least-desirable offal that Imin wanted. “Skarnâ-Maktê’s son, attend us.”

Ingwë raised his head. 

“Great Arâmê made a request for you and your friends. End this task and hear what you have been commanded to do,” spake Iminyë.

With blood-dried fingertips the young man answered Iminyë, “If the Great Hunter calls for me, I obey.”

Imin’s eyes narrowed. There was an insult buried in those words that he could not see, but Iminyë smiled. Imin trusted his spouse. Her judgment was his.

Judgment was not foresight.

Imin and Iminyë believed that there would be no danger to himself or his position as the chieftain paramount of all Kwendî in sending this boy to the abode of the Valar.

One person who slept in the finest house in the Minyar village was still doubtful. Inkundû returned from a disappointing hunt to learn the specifics of his father’s meeting with Oromë and the other two chieftains. He sulked through the feast repurposed into a farewell gift for the chosen ambassador. Imin’s son listened with growing alarm as his mother, already appraised of the details, saw no need to listen to a tale repeated and commentary made upon it, more concerned with the final food preparation. Iminyë’s displeasure with her son’s recent failures was subtle, but of its two most recent causes which had more weight was unclear: that his judgment on the hunting trip resulted in little quarry to show for the expenditures or that Inkundû had not been ready to greet his father at the village gate. Inkundû regularly disappointed Iminyë. This Imin knew and accepted, as he knew and accepted Inkundû’s jealous and untrusting moods. To his father alone did Imin’s son make his displeasure known.

“If to be sent as scouts to the homeland of the Powers is a task of great trust and honor, then why do we send Ûkwendô? Father, why not me?” Inkundû petulantly asked.

Imin framed the choice as one that the three leaders had come to independently of Oromë, and perhaps in Imin’s mind he had refashioned the decision as a debate that he had won, such that was his pride. Inkundû would have still protested Oromë’s decision had he known the truth of who made it. He would have argued that Imin should counter Oromë’s decree, as Imin had once done to a poor decision of Tata’s or his reprimands to Enel about the various Nelyar that ran free, like wandering Denweg or Awaskjapatô who lived out on rafts on the lake. Imin’s role was to rule over all elves, even fellow chieftains, and curtail their blunders.

Again the twinge of dissatisfaction with his first-born child bobbed to the surface of Imin’s thoughts before sinking once more, like one of the giant salamanders that swam in the lake.

“Ûkwendô can be spared, and if mortal doom befalls him, our tribe is not greatly harmed by his loss.” Disposable, like the Noldo orphan, the chieftain did not say aloud. Or that the third one, the Nelyar young chieftain, had two capable brothers as suitable replacements. Great Imin frowned. “I have decided that the scarred ones’ child has proven himself useful and able to fulfill responsibilities to his tribe that he has neglected. This is my test of the gift of my trust, as it is also a test of the Powers and if Their promises can be believed or honored.”

“And what if the Powers speak the truth of how wondrous their Paradise is? Do we believe then that Ûkwendô will return to us?”

Imin turned to stare across the village to where Maktâmê struggled to adjust the infant daughter strapped across her chest, shifting Indis’s head so that the small infant could nurse with ease. “He will return for his sister, even if the sullen boy has no sense of duty towards his tribe.” Inkundû scoffed at this evaluation of Ingwë’s motivation, how unbalanced the scales were if the home of the gods was half as glorious as promised. His younger sister, Ravennë, watched her father and older brother in keen, frownful silence.

...

With a leather satchel packed tightly with freshly smoked mutton, Ingwë waved a greeting to his two best friends outside the palisade of the Minyar village. To the west, under the dark shadows of the encroaching trees, Nahar shone brilliantly white. Oromë waited.

The travel kits of Elwë and Finwë were many parts: reed woven mats slung as rolled knapsacks across the hip, heavy bags full of tools, blankets, and food, belts hanging with more items like the fine pouches for flint and dried moss to quickly tinder a fire, and in their finest clothing. Everything spoke of their villages’ collective efforts to outfit these favored sons with the wherewithal to face every imagined possible disaster and a hope to impress the Valar. Finwë in particular carried the illusion that he had half his weight in borrowed beads and copper jewelry. Elwë’s hat shimmered with the iridescence of bird feathers, and this was not the only garment of his that played opalescent in the village light.

The Minyar dressed not their Ûkwendô in fancy garments. As a hunting party scout, he was given dried food and a filled water skin to carry him on the long trek. The only addition to his normal appearance was a line of ritual paint across his heart and outlining his jaw.

Before he joined his friends, Ingwë turned back around. His mother, standing a few feet away from the others at the gate, knew that her son would need this final farewell. Dried paint flaked off of her one good hand as she raised it for a gesture to beckon him towards the patiently waiting Oromë.

Strong hands caught those fingers and lowered them.

Stuttering, aware of the eyes of the First Tribe upon them, Maktâmê repeated the instructions that she had given her son before the feast started and Imin had dropped his world-shattering proclamation.

Ingwë gripped his mother’s shoulders and pulled her close to him, foreheads touching as he pleaded for the final time. “If I don’t return- if you cannot stay, Mother, if you cannot stay in the village,” and the young man could not articulate which dire outcome he feared as more likely, that his tribe force his family out by a formalized banishment or merely through the absence of communal aid or via the internal grief of his absence driving his mother to despair, “then you go to Rûmilo. You go to the Tatyar. The journey is quick. Is safe. You take the goods that I left for you, the knives, you trade. Phinwê left some pottery in your name. They will help, the Tatyar. And if you cannot settle in their village, go only as far as the river. The next village is Elwê’s. It is the closest. The braided river to the shore, the lights are easy to find, reflecting off the water. His brothers lead their village. Kind boys. Promise me, Mother. You take Indis to them. Do not stay in this place.” Years of negligence and cruelty from his people forced Ingwë’s whispered words in a cornered snake’s desperate hiss. “Go to them. Elmo’s spouse is gravid; soon their first child will be born. A new mother will welcome you and Indis. Someone to help nurse, if nothing else. They have food to share, a place at their fire. Please, promise me.”

Crying, Maktâmê kissed her son’s brow. “Stop. This fear, do not carry it with you to the land of the gods. We shall be safe, your sister and I. We are provided for. Go with hope, my son. With joy and excitement. Explore this new land that they have promised with the same wonder that filled your father and I when we first stepped away from the lake-shore. The beautiful light when we first saw the stars.” Her voice shook. “When Imin lit fire and gave us all warmth and light. The Powers promise greater than that. Go. See if it is true.” A thumb smoothed away the deep creases of his brow. The dried paint did not leave a mark. “Look forward, as a brave scout of our people. As Alakô’s son, fleet-footed light and sure, Star-beacon. A torch is for the unknown path before us. So look forward.”

Ingwë closed his eyes and willed his heart to steady and slow its rhythm. “I promise.”

[squirrelwrangler]

heget’s Silmarillion OC and Textual Ghosts Masterlist

Will continue to add to this as I go, but here’s the start. Many characters and familial relationship crop up across multiple fics of mine. Also consider this a fairly expansive if shallow highlight of many of my headcanons and general world-building of the Silm. 

Starting with the Cuivienen Era:

Imin and Iminyë (and the other 4) are separate and distinct characters from the Three Kings of the Elves and are not the parents of Finwë, Ingwë, or Elu. Overall proud, jealous of their counterparts, in a codependent relationship with their spouses that especially with Imin and Iminyë borders on a hive mind. 

Imin and Iminyë’s oldest child is a son, Inkundú. Asshole. Political problem. Indis definitely doesn’t want anything to do with him.

Their other child is a daughter, Ravennë. Proud, ambitious, smart, and more patient than her sibling. She will marry Ingwë and become the High Queen of All Elves and does more of the day-to-day ruling.

Minyë is the eldest child of Ingwë and Ravennë, a daughter born during the Great Journey.  Ingwion is their son and second child. Netyarë is their fourth child, the third daughter. Laitissë is Ingwion’s wife and they have two children, a son named Ingil and Helinë, a daughter.

Ingwë’s parents are Alakó (Alaco) and Maktâmê (Mahtamë). Both were horrifically injured by a wild animal attack when Ingwë was a boy, Alaco more so. Alaco commits suicide soon after Indis is conceived; however his bitter spirit is found and corrupted by Morgoth to become the most feared undead spirit and shows up in multiple works.

Asmalô is Ingwë’s former childhood friend, born right before him. Hunter, Ingwë supporter.

Kanatië is a First Gen Vanyar contemporary of Mahtamë, mentor of Asmalô, initially disdainful of Ingwë.

Lasrondô is another Vanyar hunter loyal to Imin.

Elnaira is Elenwë’s mother. Handë is her father, and he later in Valinor creates a business partnership with Anairë’s family to supply the skilled scribes and paper-makers in a joint manuscript-book-paper factory for Tirion, especially the nobility.

Katwânîbesê (Cantëantanissë) is a contemporary of Ravennë, a vain woman.

Nurwê is the son of Enel and Enelyë; his name is based on one of the Avari leader names. Eleniel is his wife.

Rúmilô (Rúmil) is the same Noldor written language inventor as canon, though I’ve added that he was the leader of the (mild, for Noldor) rebels against Tata who splintered away from the main Tatyar group to form a village closer to the Minyar and Nelyar, and is closest that Finwë has to a father-figure.

Istarnië is Mahtan’s wife (name is old rejected name for her daughter). Besides Nerdanel they have another child (unnamed, gender undecided but probably male) who has three children: Vénea, Lissë, and Enedir.

Sarnê is a First Generation Tatyar that joined Rúmil’s village. Is the initial main provider/’inventor’ of salt for the elves. His eldest son was Morisû, and the two were captured/killed by Morgoth’s hunting, leaving Herenvarno to raise a litter of tamed wolves and his sister, Laiquawen. Herenvarno was a good friend and supporter of Finwë but fled to the northern area of Valinor to hide out from court pressures and grieve for his father and brother. Herenvarno marries the oldest granddaughter of Mahtan, Vénea, making him related via marriage ties to the Finwëans - drama he would have rather avoided. (Strongly based on the Starks from ASoIaF.)

Herenvarno and Vénea have five children, Alcar (Aglar), Amanë, Mornaiwë (Mornaeu) nicknamed Craban aka Crow, Arë, and Sarnor. Herenvarno reluctantly joins the Exile out of obligation to Finwë, but is murdered at Alqualondë by Fëanor in the chaos of the initial attack out of paranoid fear. Also going into Exile was Aglar, Mornaeu, and Arë. Vénea stayed behind with Sanor because he was too young, and Amanë stayed because of a betrothal to a Vanya lord she later breaks off. Aglar stays with Finrod and dies at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, Mornaeu goes up with Angrod and Aegnor and dies in the Bragollach, Arë disappears after boarding the stolen swanships. Sarnor later joins as a scout during the War of Wrath.

Laiquawen ran off and married someone she never divulged the identity of whom she almost immediately separated from after the birth of her son, Annalossion. Laiquawen knew she didn’t have the temperament to be a good mother and dropped her son off with Herenvarno and Vénea who had just had Aglar so that he would have a more stable home-life, still periodically checking in with the boy but not ideal, hence his nickname of Hecilion. He joins Fingolfin.

All six had giant Hounds of Oromë; Amanë kept the ones belonging to her siblings and cousin since they refused the Exile. 

Ñalatiê is Míriel’s mother, another member of Rúmil’s village, inventor of glass beads.

Elwë’s mother and father (unnamed but jokingly named Estiriwêg and Estiriwen after the village that they founded) are again implied to exist in canon and are distinct from Enel and Enelyë. They have three sons, the canonical Elwë, Olwë, and Elmo. The third tribe due to their size and more lax attitude of Enel and Enelyë quickly splintered and spread into multiple villages and free-roaming groups. Lenwë (Dan) leads one of these, and there are also groups on floating rafts in the middle of the Great Lake. Elu’s parents’ village is unique for being very close to the Minyar and secondary Tatyar village, making their people technically the most cosmopolitan and wealthiest village, certainly the most well-connected. Not all of the Teleri who make the initial Great Journey come from this village, but it is the core of the Teleri/Sindar inner circle, and most named Sindar/Teleri come from here, like Beleg, Círdan, and the wives and ancestors of the House of Elwë and Olwë.

Olwë’s wife is Hwindië, sister of Nowë (aka Círdan). Aside from Eärwen, they had at least three sons. One of the sons is named Elenyálenér or Elentulwë in honor of his uncle (and Olwë’s guilt at having argued with Elmo about staying to fruitlessly stay to search for Elu), who aside from physical appearance isn’t too much like his missing uncle in personality but was secretly Olwë’s favorite - and is among those killed in the First Kin-slaying. Another of Olwë’s children, Airesarë and a grandson, Uilon, were also killed. Elwing hears of how he was recently restored from Mandos and, mishearing the name because of the close meaning, thinks that one of her brothers had been restored.

Eredêhâno (Eredhon) is a second generation member of Elwë’s village, between Elwë and Olwë in birth order. A natural constant worrier and a skilled weaver -first of reed cloaks, then of cloth in general- he is one of Elwë’s lieutenants and becomes the overall leader of the Northern Sindar of Beleriand/Mithrim, a regional governor under Elu’s king with not quite as much autonomy as Círdan but almost. Highly trusted. His younger sister, Linkwînen, married Elmo, making Eredhon Elu’s brother-in-law. Tragically captured and turned by Morgoth, used to kill his own sister and almost kills Elu. Had two sons, the elder which inherited his position as lord of Mithrim, the younger of which was named Ereglas stayed in Doriath. Both sons had at least one daughter. The older son’s daughter was Meril, Lady of the Mithrim. She marries Fingon out of lukewarm affection, pity, and political calculation to protect her people and keep them from losing all political power to their new Noldor overlords. She is the biological mother of Gil-galad. Ereglas has a daughter, Eregiel, who falls love-at-first-sight for Orodreth. They marry in Nargothrond and she becomes lady of Tol Sirion and mother of Finduilas. They all escape the fall of Sirion (Meril dies in the Nirnaeth), and Eregiel escorts her nephew Gil-galad to Círdan and stays with them. Originally she meant to return to Nargothrond, but the war strands her on the Isle of Balar and she lives through the First Age and into the Second Age as Gil-galad’s surrogate mother and the most senior noble lady of the Noldor of Gil-galad’s court. Thus confusion arises on Gil-galad’s parentage. She sails eventually to reunite with her family late in the Second Age, only to learn what happens to her adopted son.

Elmo (canonically the youngest brother of Elu) and Linkwînen have three children. Following Tolkien’s habit, they are two older sisters and then a son that was named in canon, Galadhon. The older of the two sisters, Ilsë, is named for her silver hair the exact shade as Elu, as she was born during the period when Elwë first went to Valinor. (Yes, about a third of Elu’s nephews, nieces, or great-grand-kids are named for him; it also happens when you have the most generic and popular elven name possible except for Finwë). Ilsë sided with Olwë against her father in the great ugly debate that permanently split the Teleri, leaving her parents and siblings behind to sail to Valinor. She becomes the Grand Fleet Admiral of Alqualondë; her wife is one of the primary sailcloth weavers and said wife was murdered in the First Kin-slaying along with a nephew, Marillo. Ilsë carries the righteous anger against the Rape of Alqualondë longer than most, understandably.

The middle child is Égnith, and she stays with her parents and brother in Beleriand to search for Elu. She marries Bao, a Tatyar that decided halfway to join the Eldar on the Great Journey and who stayed with the Eglath. They have one son, Eöl. During the search for Elu, Égnith and Bao are captured by Morgoth’s forces and turned into proto-orcs. Their young son, Eöl, is nearly captured and killed by his turned parents, only saved and adopted at the last second by a dwarf.Understatement to say this traumatized Eöl.

Galadhon marries Dan’s daughter who joined her brother, Denethor, in travelling over the mountain into Beleriand. Danaril and Galadhon both died with Denethor, Denethor’s family, and other Nandor at the battle of Amon Ereb, orphaning their two sons, Galathil and Celeborn. (Note: one of Denethor’s sons was in tentative courting with Lúthien, as the most logical match. They had only met a few times and weren’t opposed to the idea though there was no romantic attachment, and since Beren is more woods-fey than any elf, the Green Elves of Ossiriand are half-convinced he is the reincarnation of Denethor’s son). 

Among the Nandor of Ossiriand is Orothaiben, an outlaw leader and bowman who went a little bloodthirsty and wild after the Kinslayings and loathes the Fëanorians as much as the orcs. Also famous for wearing crowns of bright pink cherry blossoms. Finds and rescues Elrond and Elros when they run away from Maglor and Maedhros and return the twins to Círdan and Gil-galad on the Isle of Balar. (There is no canon to debunk the idea that the twins successfully ran away from their captors a few months or years after).

Galathil marries a relative of Oropher, possibly Thranduil’s sister or aunt, making Oropher a regent candidate for Elwing. He and his wife die in the Second Kin-slaying trying to save Eluréd and Elurin.

[squirrelwrangler]

Ravenne/Ingwe or Borte/Elros

Ravennë/Ingwë

I adore Bortë, but I haven't focused on her relationship to Elros and any of their interactions (with her family, with the elves that raised her, with her subjects, yes). Whereas I have written Ravennë and Ingwë together, I know how their relationship starts and grows, how they work together at first and later, and I even have different AUs plotted out where their relationship doesn't follow the canon I've set out.

[squirrelwrangler]

Survey: Who is you favorite OC? Why/when were they conceived? Is there a song you really associate with them? What kind of stories would you like to tell with them? Which hogwarts house do they belong to?

Aie, you’re asking me which of my precious children I like best! ;)

Hmm, I think if I were to break it down in the Silm OCs (which are the ones followers care about. If we talked original characters from any of my numerous stories, we’d be here all month) I’ve created and written at least something for, it becomes a race between Bortë, Kreka, Ilsë, and Ravennë. Bortë for the innovation of her concept, Kreka and Ilsë for their voices as I wrote them (and that their fics were both basically Fuckin’ Noldor… AHAha um yes *awkwardly clears throat*).

But for novelty and to answer the rest of the questions, let’s go with Ravennë.

Conceived of her character as something more than just “Vanyatari, placeholder Vanyar Queen and textual ghost Wife of Ingwë” when I had the brainstorm that Ingwë wins power and the leadership of the Minyar from Imin (who Ingwë is not the same person) in a duel. Because that clearly means there would be some supporters of Imin that Ingwë has to reconcile with and some political maneuvering to solidify his rule. Marrying a daughter of the ousted old ruler is the tried and true method, so Ravennë as Imin’s daughter was the natural thought, even before she had her name.

Song-wise there’s probably a few  I associate, but in particular I listen to the ‘Lioness Hunting Chant’ from the Lion King Broadway musical for inspiration for the Minyar of Cuiviénen and their culture, for Ravennë named after the lioness.

I want to fully tell her story of the rise of Ingwë to power and the Great Journey - and how Ravennë factors in everything. When/if she first notices him during the period he’s an outcast, when he brings back Oromë, how thinks change during the period while the Valar are fighting Melkor before the Three Ambassadors are called to Valinor, what her feelings are during the wait. Definitely when the Three return, and while Elwë and Finwë are proselytizing to other tribes, that Ingwë goes to the more direct method. Watching him challenge the rest of her family, her parents’ deaths, that she immediately chooses to act right afterwards by declaring Ingwë king - and that he recognizes her act, while motivated to save herself, is also an act that gives him his power and acceptance. Ravennë on the March interacting with Maktamê and Indis, uncertain of her position. That everyone else in the tribe assumes that she and Ingwë will wed, are the new Imin-and-Iminyë, so their mostly unspoken dance around each other. Her image of him as the great warrior that defeated her father, the strongest person she knew, this inscrutable and relentlessly driven leader - and then how he becomes this very gentle and soft person with his sister and mother, this hesitancy (surely not! she thinks) around her. That he gives her the agency to decide, and that their declaration of marriage/Ravennë as the new Inimyë/Queen as the Minyar understand it is very simple - one ‘night’ Ravennë walks up to where Ingwë lies on his sleeping mat when the tribe is lying down for sleep and stretches out next to his side. And the Minyar watching from their beds collectively sigh in relief, because it was assumed but not solidified, and it’s best to have things set out, and the Eldar has always been ruled by the first couple among them - it has always been a pair: Imin and Iminyë, Tata Tatië, Enel Enelyë, so the return to the tradition they have always known reassures them. 

The births of their children, setting up their new lives in Valmar, Ingwë retreating to monastic repentance and meditation in the mountains while Ravennë rules the Vanyar as their Queen. These are her stories.

Or the two AUs I have already for her based off divergences of this head-canon: First is where Ravennë takes a liking to Ingwë before the whole Oromë game-changer, back before Indis is conceived and born. Ravennë corners the outcast loner Ingwë in the woods, they have the minimum wedding according to LACE - aka Ravennë instigates sex because she likes the look of Ingwë and the chances of passing down strong genes. I know LaCE is very unpopular, though there are some bits from it I like - that elves are monogamous and really don’t do adultery, and that all a wedding needs to the be recognize is the two to consent and consummate to each other (and tell Eru “We’re getting married, m’kay?”) and that because of spiritual mind-powers they can tell someone is married. And that my ideas for Cuivi. early elf culture is that while no, their still isn’t any causal sex because no, these are Eldar, and they don’t know Eru by name yet, there is still the recognition of spousal bonds by seeing them in the eyes. And that thanks to population pressures/dangers and that they really haven’t lived long enough to know they’re immortal, there is a very strong emphasis on starting families and growing the tribe, and only after the move to Valinor with the sense of safety and security of having all the time in the world literally does the concept of single child families and that children are a choice more to show off one’s creative outpouring develop. So Ravennë returns to the village and her parents can tell she’s gone ahead and found a husband (tired of waiting for someone her parents would pick, wanting to move onto the next stage in life) and demand to now who. Other side at the fringes of the village, Maktamê and Alako going through their own motions of panic over what their son went along with. Cue the very awkward elven version of the shotgun wedding meet-the-parents family dinner, with King and Queen Imin and Iminyë inviting the village pariahs to their tent to dine. Ravennë proudly introducing her new husband (a bit like a haughty person showing off their new prize dog, with this very forceful and bragging attitude to hide any feelings that she should be ashamed or regretful of her choice), Ingwë still in his stoic personality that refuses to show weakness or emotion, still very anger at his family’s low position due to their misfortune, trying not to feel too hopeful that now they are being accepted back into the tribe, anger at himself for wanting that acceptance so bad, still befuddled by Ravennë’s desire for him, not sure if he’s embarrassed by her praise of his skills or concerned that his secrets are being told to Imin -like how he thinks of himself as Ingwë (equal to Imin) instead of Ukwendo). Imin and Iminyë are classic disapproving parents. Mahtamê’s pride is just as prickly. Alako is quiet; Ingwë helps him eat. (Ravennë gives pointed looks to her mother that translate to ‘look how attentive and gentle he is, perfect father material, you will approve of how wise my choice was, you will have so many strong and well-tended grandchildren, now get Daddy to stop insulting him’). Ravennë’s brother stays the same as main ‘verse - he’s there as the arrogant and annoying one who Ravennë works to make sure he never has as much power as her and Ingwë breaks his arm. (He’s a punk, basically). There’s some discussions of Ingwë using his connections in the other villages (aka Elwë and Finwë) to get fine furnishings like pretty woven things for the newlyweds’ new house, so the plot really isn’t more than this awkward dinner and than this will head-off and stop the deaths not just from Imin and Ingwë’s duel, but that because this rehabilitates Maktamê and Alako’s standings with the other villagers, Alako doesn’t die before Indis is born. It’s my fluffy AU, but does cause problems for how I see the three meeting Oromë and everything else. I think I can squeeze the characters back into canon, though the whole Ingwë as king of the Vanyar becomes difficult with Imin still firmly in power…

AU #2 of course is the Sauron traps Ingwë in the woods right before the elves cross the sea, Ravennë takes control of the tribe when he goes missing, juggles her infant daughter Minyë, her mutinous brother, the question of what to do on to search or wait, and what her relationship and feelings to Ingwë are and what power does she have - with her mother and sister in-law helping her. Where Ravennë wants to honor Ingwë’s instructions that the Minyar go to Valinor - she firmly believes in his reasons why the elves need to go to Valinor for safety, for the strength of the Valar who fought and defeated the Dark Hunter, for this glorious light that is greater and more nourishing that any bonfire. That she worries if she can stay in power without Ingwë’s presence, if she can accept abandoning him, that she can feel through their bond that he isn’t dead yet, so unlike her parents she won’t be reunited with him if she goes to Valinor and waits for Mandos to restore him. That a very strong part of her wants to find the thing she can feel he is fighting against, and fight with him- and that the Minyar hunt in packs and none of them are cowards. That’s the one where Melian helps Ingwë as a giant talking nightingale, where the Lindar all go to Valinor and the Minyar all stay, where eventually the Minyar make it to Valinor by crossing the Helcaraxë to find Finwë still married Miríel- who still gave birth to Fëanor, died, and refused re-embodiment. And that Indis is no longer pining after him, nor does Minyë find her new royal peer remotely attractive in personality. That Elwë is the bachelor uncle to an army of his brothers’ many children, and that he runs ragged between the various Teleri settlements in Aman in forest and the shore. (Olwë in Alqualondë, Elmo in one forest, Dan’s group in another. Círdan may have gone or stayed to ferry…) And that when, reunited with his good friend and introduced to the one that helped him, Melian the Maia nightingale transforms into an elven form and her and Elwë have their flabbergasted love-struck moment of meeting (with Valar snarking and outraged in the background).

Ravennë values and admires (worships) strength and power in a person, and is driven by having power herself. She is brave, but her courage comes from her determination to do what she sees as best for herself. Slytherin by any method of divination.

[squirrelwrangler]

Ingwe/Ravenne

[squirrelwrangler]

Ingwe/Ravenne

• when or if I started shipping it.

Okay, Ingwë isn’t Imin; he kills Imin to take his place as leader. So that means….ah of course Imin had a daughter that Ingwë marries to secure and unify power and he needs a wife anyway. Oh wow that marriage must be all sorts of interesting warrior culture power struggles

• what makes me happy about them:

Lot’s of things, but mostly that they are strongly existing characters and give life and color to my Vanyar. Also, smoking hot ruling couple with a turbulent beginning dynamic. The semi-retired warrior doing yoga and philosophy, the fierce and proud princess a queen without equal when she feared she would lose everything.

• what makes me sad about them:

Ravennë is only my personal OC. Technically so is my interpretation of Ingwë. So I’m the only shipper.

• things done in art/fic that annoys me:

well, am only writer/artist for them. But in general, Ingwë isn’t a cardboard cutout next to Manwë’s throne. And there does exist a wife and Vanyar queen.

• things I look for in art/fic:

Dammit, heget. Get to writing more of them. So many elements to their story, regular head-canon or AU.

• my happily ever after for them:

They have it. All their family is on Valinor with them, even the formerly dead. They live happily. Periodically they go enjoy retreats up the mountainside where Ingwë gets inspired to write really raunchy but beautiful poetry about lovemaking with his wife. Ravennë demands it is read alone to the court as she lounges back in the throne and smiles smugly. Their children silently wait it out.

[squirrelwrangler]

? lions

Ah, this is easy, what with the #arrogant golden-haired lions of Valmar.

Though the son of Imin and Iminyë is named from the term kundû meaning prince, their daughter is Ravennë the lioness. Prides of lions (and not just the saber-toothed tigers but probably animals that most closely resembled the cave lions and american lions of the late Pleistocene) hunted around Cuiviénen and was one of the hunters that the Minyar learned to mimic. Ravennë loves and feels honored by her namesake, and when she was considered mature enough to go on her first hunt, afterwards she painted designs of lions and lionesses on her body. (I definitely have the Minyar/Vanyar obsessed with body paint, though I’m not sure about elves with tattoos -or if they would last several thousand years without degradation. Aie tangent~) But that Ravennë has a lot of lion-motif jewelry and belongings, and Ingwë and the rest of her family indulge in presents with those themes. And that is a pet name for her and they both call Minyë ‘kitten’ and there is a lot of poetry and offhanded remarks from the king of all the elves about how much he loves cats and their graceful movements and soft fur and playfulness but also strength and *bedroom eyes in his wife’s direction*

So, lions and Minyar. After Oromë’s first visit, his partnership with Nahar is the final push for livestock domestication. This I’ll go into detail for the Ingwë story, but with the fear of Dark Hunters constraining the hunters to the villages and shores of the lake, the idea of doing the same thing that the Nelyar are doing with not just going out and gathering plants but taking the seeds back and planting them next to the villages, is being tossed around. Oromë and Nahar prove it, so the Minyar go out and wrangle up a bunch of deer and goats and cattle (do have primitive elvish for sheep) and begin the process of domesticating them. Plus early attempts at horseback-riding, which should be fun. (Oromë has to set in and help with this). By the time Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë return from Valinor, the elves of Cuiviénen has shifted from hunter-gather to livestock and early cultivation. It’s not a complete shift, and the streams that feed Cuiviénen have been damaged and blocked thanks to the War against Melkor, so the lake is beginning to dry up and diminish, though those that will be the Avari refuse to acknowledge that.)

And with the husbandry of livestock comes more conflict with predators, and why the Minyar really become the lion-hunting culture that one sees in this snippet. Of course, by the time the great farms and ranches in Valinor are worried about lions and such, Yavanna steps in. Still, the Vanyar make it a sport to hunt- but not injure- lions as a right of passage. Tulkas thinks lion-wrestling is a *great* idea, and Meassë often incarnates as a giant lioness. (somewhere is a post I rebloged about Sekhmet and Meassë).

[squirrelwrangler]

I can't reblog this, but I went back and edited a few typos and re-read the notes for this post with general information and universe building for Ingwë, Ravennë his wife, and Indis.

Les Thoughts

Yeah, my brain is heavily over-loaded with ideas for my Vanyar recently, be it Ingwë at Cuiviénen, Ravennë's struggles in an AU where her husband instead of Elwë goes missing, or the various Vanyar soldiers during the War of Wrath - the half-Noldo son of Nerdanel's niece  who teaches Bortë future Queen of Númenor to speak Quenya, of the Vanya kin of Elenwë - Ellowen who has a counterpart in Akallabêth-era Númenor and another in the original SF canon she's borrowed from - and her secret affair with a Noldo survivor from Gondolin, of the teamwork between the Vanyar, Falmari, and Faithful Noldor. And most of all poor Ingwion, would has enough on his plate already before the Valar decided it was time to re-body Grandpa Imin and send him to help fight in the War, and the oldest of all elves and former leader of them is basically Patton to Ingwion's Eisenhower. Fun times.

recently?

[squirrelwrangler]

A quiet moment during the March. Ingwë singing traditional Minyar song-poetry listing the deeds of an individual (each member has a song or a line in the hunting songs, and want deeds and glory to add to them). He sings the song of Alakô, swift as the wind, his father, sings only of the deeds and glory before the accident, of when his father was happy and praised. Sings of the father Indis will never know, and the man who the tribe forgot in their horror of what happened. He adds in now the fact that the winds are from Manwë. That the King of all Arda delights in all wind, from the puff of breath to the fastest strongest gale. Deliberately he sings, drawing the connections. And Ravennë listens. And then Ingwë sings another praise song, one that is more familiar, one that has been sung commonly until recently. He sings the glory song for Imin, first elf awoken ever on the earth, first leader of the elves. Ingwë does not brag of Imin’s final and only defeat, only the strength and undeniable position of the one Ingwë has replaced. Partly because it does go unstated, that the greater his opponent, the stronger Ingwë is, that he needs not to remind anyone. And that he respected Imin as much as he resented him. And Ravennë listens.

[squirrelwrangler]

The rough beginning to the AU I can't write

Back, oh terrible thoughts. No AU where Ingwë is snared in the woods by Sauron (it ain't a love at first sight thing, betcha that)and his wife Ravennë, with his mother, sister, and daughter hold together the Minyar as the other two tribes abandon them to Valinor. Though do need to get into more with the messed-up beginning to the marriage of Ingwë and Ravennë. Because a fic that does focus on the shifting ways Ravennë relates to her new family I must write.

The warriors come to tell Ravennë that the Chieftain has not returned. They do not meet her eyes when they speak this, but it is not disrespect, for Ravennë has mastered the detection of disrespect towards her, sensitive to its presence or lack. Nor is it terror, not yet. Fear, concern, but still some disbelief, some hope. The Chief of Chieftains is the strongest of men, unbested and untouched. The warriors believe the Chieftain will return soon. Well-worn and smooth are the stories told in the tribe of how their leader hunted alone since before he became a man, always one apart. As a boy he had walked between all camps, found food on his own, taught himself the skills one should know. Independent where all his peers had each other, and yet who could claim to be his peer? He is the equal of none, needs not any bodyguards or helpers. Such a thought would be laughable. No, the Chieftain would return, and mock their worry for silliness. In expressing disapproval he is still and efficient, with a face as immovable as a wooden mask. Ravennë knows the mask-like face, the hard search for any hint of expression. She has not mastered the detection of its moods, its imperceptible changes. But she knows the face with confidence. He would stand silently, and the warriors that stood now before Ravennë with down-turned eyes would be before him. They would hang their heads in shame and fill their Chieftain's silence with stammers of how they had been foolish to doubt him, how they misjudged the time that passed, how they should not to question if the Chieftain chose to wander away from the camp unannounced. He was the Chief of Chieftains. Who was he beholden?

  They tell her that her husband has not returned.

  Ravennë wonders what her feelings should be.