#OC Maethril

[cassiabaggins]

Hello! A question about all of your OCs (I hope no one has asked before) : How did you pick their names? Do they have meanings?

-@midearthwritings

*cracks knuckles* WELL! I’m so glad you asked! Naming my ocs is so fun, because I love finding the perfect name for them! I use either Fantasy Name Generators or Behind the Name to help me and some I just make up on my own! Most of my oc’s names have meanings and some don’t! Lets start from the top!

Cassia got her name from a horse, funnily enough! In the summers I work for a horse ranch that rescues horses and works with children with special needs or who are having mental health issues. I was making up Cassia and trying to decide between the names Lily, Rose, and Evangeline but none of those seemed right! Then, I met the new horse at my job, named Cassia, which means cinnamon and I thought it was beautiful, so the name stuck!

Delphinia is named after the delphinium flower. They symbolize cheerfulness and goodwill, encouragement, joy, and remembrance, and I thought that was a lovely name for Cassia’s best friend and pseudo big sister!

Bluebell and Begonia, Delphinia’s mothers, (adopted and biological, respectively) are named after flowers. Bluebell symbolizes humility, constancy, and everlasting love while Begonia symbolizes caution and warning, but also gratitude!

Rhis is named to rhyme with her mother’s name, as Fili and Kili are named to rhyme with each other. I have a headcanon that all of the dams in the Durin line have names that end in “-is”. Her name is pronounced like Reese, and is a form of Rhys, meaning ‘enthusiasm’!

Mhaite is a form of the Basque name Maite, meaning “Beloved” or “Lovable” and I thought that was a good name for someone so loved by everyone, not just her parents! (Pronounced MIE-teh, a long i as in bite)

Brynja has a named meaning “armor” in Old Norse, which is fitting because she has a bit of an armor around her heart! Her mother’s name, Dagny, means “new day” and was chosen just because I liked it!

Ásdís means goddess in Old Norse and her name was chosen because she is also of the Durin line (Dwalin and Balin’s sister)

Khar means obstinate in Ancient Scandinavian which is also pretty fitting, however, I didn’t decide his name based on that, I just needed a quick name and he ended up having a much more developed story and role than I anticipated!

Brom has no meaning, however, his wife, Eir, has a name meaning “mercy” and their daughter, Sif, has a name meaning “Bride”. None of these names were picked for any particular reason beside Sif’s as she us (eventually) the bride of Fili and Cassia’s eldest child. 

Gamríth has no meaning. Her father’s name is Gamling and her name was derived from that. Her original name was Greta, meaning “pearl”

Heidi means Noble. Her daughter, Isolde’s name means “battle” and her husband, Olthon means oltha (to dream) + ron (male). Those names were mostly picked because I thought they were pretty!

Síladis means Síla (to shine white) + dis (female). Her name comes from her pale grey eyes. Maethril, her daughter’s, name means Maeth (battle/fight) + ril (daughter). Her name was chosen because she was born sickly and weak and always had to fight to live. 

Ñandellë has three names, as is typical of elves. Ñandellë (Little Harp) + ë (Woman who does) is a nickname given by her teacher, Galadriel, and is her primary name. This was chosen because of her love of the harp! Her father name is Olthadis (Oltha (To Dream) + dis (female)), given because of her foresight which comes to her in dreams. And finally, her mother name, Triwathel (Triwath (Slender Shadow) + sell (Girl)) is given because of her long dark hair, lovely dark skin, and slender build. 

My Kiliel kids are named Eydís, a dwarven name chosen because she is a lass born to the line of Durin, and means “good fortune”, as she is Kili and Tauriel’s little treasure. Her brother,  Orodion, has a name meaning “son of the mountain”, a fitting name for an elf/dwarf hybrid!

The names for Fili and Cassia’s children were chosen so the boys’ names would end in “-in” and the girl’s would be named after flowers, as is typical of hobbits. They are Thorin (after Thorin Oakenshield, derived from Thor, meaning “thunder”), Kirin (derived from Kili, meaning “wedge”), Arnin (named after Fili’s maternal grandmother, Arna, meaing “eagle”), Belladonna (”determination”, named after Cassia’s mother), Vilrin ( “will”, named after Fili’s father, Vili), Frerin (named after Fili’s uncle, “peaceful”), Corin ( “spear”), Columbine (flower symbolizing “wisdom”), Leifrin ( “descendant”), Eglantine (flower symbolizing “purity”), Elestren (, another name for iris, a flower symbolizing “valor”) and Daffodil (a flower symbolizing “rebirth” and “new beginnings”)

Thank you so much for this ask, I always love talking about my characters! I hope you enjoyed this long winded answer!

[lavanfalas]

inwiel (later maethril), an oc of mine !! i’m not too proud of this drawing but i spent a while on it so it’s fine

i’m still working on her story but it’s set during the time of the war of the last alliance and she makes a dwarf *friend* !

[wickednerdery]

Title: Hoarfrost Hel: Abated Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Jotun!OC, Mer!OC, Elf!OCs Rating: Explicit Summary: “Take me to him.” Notes: This is the second part of what’s shaping up to be a legit trilogy (the first is FrostBitten) - the master list is here. The story on whole is gonna be very dark, this piece - which occurs a few days after the last Ulfr one - has significant graphic violence and so much angst. For consistency and length, it gets a “Read More”.

The pain is numbing, slips Grim in and out of consciousness, as Lady Carfindel’s men carry him off. It’s no matter, there’s no option to scream, to fight, and, as blood leaks from around tattered gills, the option of survival drains from him too. He can only cringe when dropped like a sack for the men to open the large vat of salt. While traditionally meant to cure meat and fish, whatever the kitchens might need, this one’s been marked for other uses long ago. The out and inside clawed from attempts at escape, the bottom blackened with blood, from past guests.

“It reeks!” Tir complains as they dig enough to make room for the slave.

Beria chuckles. “Yeah, well, some of them die and, if forgotten long enough...”  He shrugs before joining the other to lift and toss Grim in. 

The salt fires up his wounds, grates scaled flesh, as it goes red-to-black with his blood. If Grim could roar in the pain of it, he would, yet his throat is all but gone. Gills work to close, mouth gapes open in desperation, but he chokes either way. Flakes pull moisture from within, turning him all the more into the sea creature he is at his core. Tears flow, get sucked up, as the two men work to coat him and place the cover back on. Grim watches as the light leaves, the hope fades, and the darkness comes.

Once tasked with finding the Oarnér slave, Grim, by the princess, Maethril makes it her priority. Not because she finds it especially important, but because she herself suspects the slave has information vital to the crown. Close to the man who claims to be Prince Draugluin, now hidden away by Lady Carfindel, he surely knows something. Finding him may lead her to uncovering many secrets.

It takes her moons to discover his location, but when she does she rushes to inform the princess and gather reinforcements. While certainly capable of getting a slave out of the salt bath, she does not trust the Red Lady not to have it guarded. Even bewitched.

“Your Highness! Princess Rainaiel!” Maethril calls out as she rushes towards the caves the young woman finds solace in. “Your Highness!”

“Yes?” Ulfr turns from the overlook, assuming the call is for him.

The royal guard stops short in his sight; her heart begins to race all the more as his gaze goes from curious to understanding.

“You found Grim.” Time slows, his heart holding with his breath. “Where? Where is he?” 

She looks down. For the first time since her early days of battle she’s speechless, indecisive, too wary to make a move. Any move.

Ulfr’s breath returns in a shudder, his heart rushing ahead with his mind. “Where?!” Water fills his eyes, he shakes without control as rage and terror build in equal measure.

“In a salt bath past the kitchens, by the storage house.”

A place Ulfr passed many times looking for Grim; the knowledge makes his stomach churn with acid. “Take me to him.”

“Your Highness -”

“NOW!!”

Fingers fuse first, the webbing of his kind returning, then his toes. His feet...ankles...legs....the longer he stays, the more he dries out, the more fish-like he becomes. Normally, this is not painful, it is something he can do at will, but this is not normal. This is torture. A slow drying out that cracks skin, shrivels scales. Fangs long ago unused grow out as gums recede and lips puff and curl. Skin and scales split and bleed into salt that dries him out all the more. A vicious cycle that slowly drains his life and will to have it...

The vat is not guarded, but both can see its enchantment. Sealed in blue-green light Maethril halts in place, in recognition, as she extends arm to stop the prince. Her attempt goes unnoticed as Ulfr rushes past her. He knows the magic, knows he can handle it...knows it wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t. Grim’s in there.

“Your highness, no, it is freezing!” So cold it will surely burn any elf hand that dare touch it. He ignores, grabs and tosses the lid. She gasps as his hands turn azure, white-lined, before his illusion slips back into place. He is not the prince, he’s not even Ljósálfar! Yet the urge to put this mysterious, deceptive, beast down, the one she’s had since first suspecting him, only dampens...

The light burns Grim’s eyes even through lids, he shudders. His voice is gone, breathing barely there. What little water left in him leaks from the corners of his eyes as he’s lifted from crimson flakes.

Ulfr lowers with care, wincing on his lover’s behalf as the ground proves unforgiving, uncomforting. “Gr-Grim?” He looks down at the being that bears so little resemblance to the man he knows, loves. As badly as he wants to touch, to reassure, he doesn’t dare for fear of hurting.

As Maethril watches she’s at a loss for words. She’s seen death, seen cruelty, but this is something new. New and terrifying. The slave is not simply undone, he’s changed in a way that reminds her of the blackest magics. She knows why the urge to take the imposter down isn’t coming - whoever, whatever, he is, he loves just as any of them. He is in pain, he is scared, and he is in love...more than the prince ever was.

Even the drip of Ulfr’s tears on his flesh causes such pains that Grim’s breath stops. “We...We need to get him out of here.” Ulfr wipes his face quickly, both to prevent tears from falling as to hide them. He can be seen to care, perhaps, but not too much. Not in front of the guard already so suspicious of him. “Get him...help.”

“H-How? ...Where?”

“Do not ask me, just help me!!” The Jotun roars at the she-elf before taking a deep breath in. His jaw flickers in tension, the tears coming once again. “Please...” His voice softens to a plea. “Help.”

Maethril opens mouth, but has no answer. No solution. If they move the Oarnér they may kill him, but they surely cannot leave the man here either. She raises a hand in hopes of staving off more orders while she thinks. The black burns of the slave’s throat, the creature he’s become, it’s like black magic... “I...I may know someone who can, but...”

Stomach tightens in fear. “But?”

“She’s deep in the woods. I’ll have to find her, convince her.”

“Order her, tell her I order her.”

“She’s not one of your people, our people.”

“Tell her she may have whatever she wishes, if she heals him.”

“Your Highness, that is-” Not a risk to take with one such as this witch.

“GO!!” He doesn’t care, whatever warning she has for him doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that does is Grim. That Grim is alive, that he can be healed. The woman bows, heads off, and Ulfr moves to lay on the ground beside the other. He lets his façade fade, goes Jotun and freezes the ground beneath them...Grim always says too cold is better than too hot and, as the ice melts, it turns to the water that’s he so desperately needs. 

**

Rassëiel smells the she-elf the moment she steps beyond the boundaries of the kingdom and into her woods. “You are not welcome here, Ljósálfar.”

“I come with a message from...” Who? An icy imposter? “Prince Draugluin.”

“My answer will be your death.” The dragon-witch is not blood-thirsty, but protective. Her freedom, her land, her happiness was hard-fought and she’s no intention of going back - the best way to assure that is to deal with all elf trespassers brutally. Still, she is curious, so waits...

“He requests, begs, your help, my lady.”

“With what?” She spits back, knowing the type of help requested by the last like him.

“His love.”

The woman laughs. “I’ve no interest in helping the Red Lady, she’s worse than he.”

“No, not her. A fossegrim slave.” Maethril takes another step, hands up to show she’s no wish to battle. “You gained your freedom, would you deny another dark creature his?”

**

“You are not allowed to die, do you understand me?” Ulfr mutters, freezing and refreezing the ground as the Alfheim sun continues to melt it as quickly. “If you die, I’ll kill myself.” After all, what was a fugitive Frost Giant to do when, again, the one good thing in his life leaves.

Grim hears, but cannot respond save to keep breathing what little breath he can find the strength to take.

Not gonna lie, writing this was a wild ride from beginning to end for me, haha! Now I’m hoping that that’s a good thing and translated into a great (and wild!) piece for you guys as well. There’s still more to come - not in the least because we’ve got a new player on the board, haha! - but I’ve a pretty good idea of what. Also, no, Ulfr doesn’t realize he’s given himself away to Maethril. AND the concept of a dragon lady actually came from a character @chibiyanai​​ thought of first and I hope she doesn’t get cross at me for using the genius idea, lol!

Gifs found on Google, combined by me

Word Glossary (in order of usage):

Carfindel - Red-Haired (Sindarin) Oarnér - Oar - Child of the Sea (Qenya); nér - Male (Qenya) Draugluin - Blue (Were)wolf (Sindarin) Beria - To protect (Sindarin), used as name here Tir - Guard (Sindarin), used as name here Ljósálfar - Norse Light Elves Rainaiel - Sweet-faced princess (Sindarin) Maethril - [Female] Warrior (Sindarin) Alfheim - Home of the Norse Light Elves Rassëiel - [Female] Horn (Quenya

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If you want on or off, or your screenname’s change from what’s listed, just lemme know! (Strike-throughs are those Tumblr refuses to tag properly)

[wickednerdery]

Title: Hoarfrost Hel: Commandeered Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Jotun!OC, Elf!OCs (& Loki) Rating: Teen Summary: “What are you?!” Notes: This is going back to JUST after The Avengers, but again I’m only using canon things I want lol! This is the second part of what’s shaping up to be a legit trilogy - the first is FrostBitten. The story on whole is gonna be very dark, this piece itself - which starts Ulfr’s story - is actually pretty tame aside from the attempted striking of a kid and off-screen violence. (All translations, which come from Tolkien writings are at the end.) Still, for consistency and length it gets a “Read More”.

Ulfr lets go before they ever reach Asgardian territory; takes the risk of the abyss rather than the surety of enemy hands. There is a strangeness in the fall, he flies fast from Heimdall’s pull, then slows to a weightless swim. One that seems to last forever, reeking of gasoline and burning flesh, before he feels the familiar twist in his gut that signals what he needs. A portal. He does his best to float over, but it’s in kicking off a passing blue and gold M-ship that Ulfr makes any headway. Gets close enough that gravity takes over to suck him in, through.

Things speed up once more, the swirl of energy tossing him about until his head spins. He closes eyes, prays to the gods that this portal will not be like the last. That this one will be bring him peace, adventure, and above all, safety. Only when the pull of the vortex stops, when he feels himself falling due to pure gravity, does Ulfr open his eyes. The sky above is pure blue with silver clouds, trees hit him with sturdy wood and vibrant leaves, and the earth strikes hard, but ultimately gives way under him. He lays still, shifting in and out of his Jotun-self to test and heal his body. He only stops seeing his frost creeping across fresh lands.

Prince Draugluin feels the earth shake, a chill run through the air and then his bones. His horse threatens to throw him and he must put force behind the reins to steady the creature. They both sense something foreign in their lands, something to be wary of. “What was that?” He turns sharp to his page, who merely shrugs.

“I don’t know, mi’lord.”

“Then perhaps you should find out,” he glares. Idiot servants, they need to be told everything plain and even then they hesitate like this one. “Well? GO!!” He roars and the young boy dashes.

He wanders aimlessly, only picking the direction of ‘away’, until he feels sudden, bitter, freeze. Even the most brutal of Álfheimr winters were not so col and the boy began to huddle into himself for warm and security as he pressed on. By the time he finds the frosted crater Draugluin’s barking out to him. Has he found anything? Where is he? Answer! But he can’t find his voice as he stands before a blue giant with finger to its lips.

“I won’t hurt you,” Ulfr assures as he shifts into an appearance closer to the other. Humanoid form, white marble skin, with slightly pointed ears. He knows where he is now, there should be little risk here. “What’s your name, little elf?” Only a squeak comes from the lad and he chuckles. “I’m Ulfr.”

There’s another moments hesitation before he mutters. “Virtion.”

“Lazy, stupid, boy!” The Prince storms upon them, riding crop at the ready. “When I call for you, you answer me, understood?!”  He raises hand high and the boy flinches, but the strike never comes. A hand stops it: bone-breakingly strong as it burns with cold. “What sorcery…?!” The thing before him is a horror-show reflection with ruby eyes and skin lined in moonstone.  

“Most would think the Ljósálfar above it…” Ulfr smirks, yanks the prince from atop his horse to the ground. “It’s almost comforting to know it’s the same everywhere.”

“I am Prince Draugluin, son of Aranwë, ruler of this realm!”

“Always those above beating those beneath them further down, always the masters cruel to the meek.”

“What are you?!” Draugluin half commands, half begs, as he kicks out in attempt to regain footing.

“...An avenging angel?” Ulfr offers in jest. “Wait, do your people believe in those? Perhaps vengeful god’s better? Ah, doesn’t matter.” Fists turn to ice as the prince claws at them. 

“Unhand me, Helegan!” Draugluin orders him, then his page. “Anno dulu enni!”

“Shut...UP!!” The frost giant’s had enough of this. Of the prince’s fear after being only too keen to whip a little boy, of his demanding nature, of all those things that remind Ulfr of Loki. He’s lived under shitty princes and cruel kings, he’s had enough of them and the universe could certainly do with one fewer. And, with a flick of his wrist, there is.

Virtion jumps, muffles the yelp with his hands, before looking up into red eyes as his own tear.

Hard to imagine, but Ulfr forgot about the boy and immediately drops the body to crouch before him. “Shhh, shh shh shh...” he quickly works to sooth, silence, the child. “Hey, no no, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not, just...”

“Prince Draugluin?! My lord...where’ve you gone?!”

Ulfr’s hand flies over the boy’s mouth as he gives a stressed smile. “He really was the prince?” The boy nods. Oops. “You’re a slave, yes?” The boy nods again. “I killed your master, yes?” Another nod. “Good, now you’re mine, understand?” Nod. “Close your eyes and do not open them again until I say so.”

The page does as told, closes and even covers eyes. He listens though. Without understanding why he hears the growls of a beast, the tearing of flesh and crunching of bone so terrifying he begins to shake, bite back sobs, praying to the gods that someone will come along and find him. Save him. Protect him. End whatever bizarre nightmare he’s in.

“Sire?” Maethril’s eyes scan the area, but only finds his horse, his page boy, and mass of gore between the two. She supposes she should at least be grateful the gore isn’t the boy...it wouldn’t be the first time Prince Draugluin ‘accidentally’ lost a servant while hunting. “Where is he?!” The page merely shakes his head with eyes still covered. He doesn’t know and can’t look to see. “Boy!” It’s a warning snap from the she-elf, but Virtion is held by the orders of his strange new master.

“Calm yourself...” The prince appears from within the woods, spattered with blood but otherwise his usual haughty self. He looks down at the youth, smirks. “Virtion, open your eyes, foolish boy.” The words are correct, but the tone far too kind.

The page opens them cautiously, they go wide at the sight of his former master before him. He jumps, trips and falls, at the mass of death before him. He looks up at the narrow-eyed she-elf, one of the royal family’s personal guards, then to Draugluin. He thinks he knows, but surely it can’t be...

“I told you the wolf would not get us,” the man states firmly before a hint of smile and flash of crimson eyes show to the lad. “Your lord and master is much too clever to fall prey to such a dull creature.”

So...this is what Ulfr’s up too, haha! While this initial switch is relatively easy, I doubt all things will be so for him...This realm is one Ulfr’s read about, but not been to and the prince is a very different person from Ulfr so it’s certain he’ll have issues keeping his cover and such, haha! (Ulfr can speak Allspeak though, so he’ll understand what’s being said aside from, maybe, certain cultural phrases.) Ljósálfar are the Norse Light Elves, Álfheimr is their realm, and I’m obviously going to use the concept of Tolkien elves (at least in part) to represent them, lol!

Word Glossary (in order of usage):

Draugluin - Blue (Were)wolf (Sindarin) Virtion - Virt - Slave (Qenya); -ion - son (Sindarin) Aranwë - Kingly Person (Sindarin) Helegan - Heleg- Ice; Lavan - Beast (Sidarin) Anno dulu enni! - Help me! (Sindarin) Maethril - [Female] Warrior (Sindarin)

(Gifs found on Google, then combined by me)

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