#and mairon is all too delighted about it

[saintsilmarillion]

several forge safety violations occurring

[animatorweirdo]

Falling in love Mairon/You

(Well, this kinda turned into a several scenario analysis, so I hope you enjoy it anon) 

Requested by anonymous

Warnings: Fluff and relationship stuff at the beginning, then slowly turn for the angst. Mentions of getting hunted and shunned, sad, separation, mairon being loyal. 

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-Falling in love would have been a long progress for Mairon. 

-He doesn’t give his love and devotion to anyone, so you have to be someone really special to earn those things from him. 

-Mairon would most likely not realize he’s in love at first, but when he does – he thinks about it long and hard. 

-If this happened during his time as an apprentice in Aule’s house of craftsman — he would most likely hesitate to come through with his feelings for you. 

-His reputation being a perfectionist and unsocial didn’t give him the best image, so he would doubt you would want to be with someone like him. 

-However, if you show interest in him or that you felt the same for him. It would give him a little confidence boost, and after some nagging from Eonwe, he would finally come through and ask the question. 

-He would be delighted and crack a beautiful smile if you said yes to his proposal for courtship. 

-He’s not the best at expressing his feelings, but little gestures like finding time to spend time with you, giving you little gifts, and slowly getting into intimate acts like giving you short forehead kisses are enough for you. 

-He would still be active and focused on his projects, so if you respected his pace and found time for yourself while he was working – it would make him appreciate you even more, and he would give all of his time to you after he’s finished. 

-He would not mind if you came to his forge – just don’t bother him with unnecessary noise or things, then he won’t usher you away. He would not mind if you simply wished to observe as he worked. 

-He would love it if you asked about his latest work because he would end up rambling about it, describing the details and the future use with such passion that Mairon would worry that he was boring you. 

-If you tell him to continue and assure him you like hearing him talk, you will earn a little smile.

-It was one of the things that made him love you. You had that uncanny ability to make him smile. It was also a privilege reserved only for you. 

-You would most likely end up as his muse as you would inspire him in many of his projects, which he would later give you as a gift. 

-Mairon would feel pride if you wore any of the jewelry he made for you and feel smug about it when you praised his skills to others. 

-He usually didn’t care when others praised his skills, but the feeling felt different when you did it. There was a different kind of envy resulting from it, which he enjoyed laughing at.

-He would melt a bit from the inside if you decided to give him something in return made by your hands. 

-He would assure you the quality of your little gift was acceptable because he adored the gesture too much to judge it. He would have judged it if it got made by someone else, but since it was you – he kept it to himself because he did not want to hurt your feelings. 

-You were precious to him, so he would do anything to make you happy. 

-If this happened in Middle Earth, Mairon would have difficulties accepting his feelings for you. 

-You would most likely have a hard time, as well, if you knew his past and that he was Sauron. 

-If he used a disguise during your relationship — you would feel reluctant and maybe even betrayed to know his true identity. It would be a big secret since you most likely got raised with the stories of his evil deeds and how he served Morgoth, so you knew people would not take it kindly if they knew you courted Sauron. 

-Mairon would feel hurt, but he would understand the meaning of your rejection. 

-He would be the one who would suggest ending it since your safety would have been on the line if you remained together. 

-If you went on your separate ways, he would respect your decision and think about you for some time before closing his heart to avoid such a mistake as falling in love again. 

-But if you decided to remain with him, he would feel the warmth that you accepted him and his past. 

-He would pledge his loyalty to you like he once did with Melkor and most likely try to redeem himself and try for the better if this happened before he got the ideas for the rings and desired to conquer Middle Earth. 

-However, if this happened somewhere between. Mairon would likely face a dilemma between his desire for power and his wish to remain with you.

-It would depend on how much you mattered to him. 

-He would respect your decision to leave and end it there as there was a low chance you would want to join him and his quest to conquer Middle Earth. 

-It would have been a better solution for him. His heart might feel pain, but he would not need to worry about your involvement and pretend your courtship never mattered to him. It would have been easier for him. 

-If you decided to leave, but people learned about your relationship and began to shun you for it. Mairon would feel slightly bad about it, and if you suddenly got hunted and people were out to kill you — he would come to your rescue. He would offer you a safe place by his side if you had nowhere else to go.

-It would be a difficult and tragic position to get into, especially if you didn’t have anyone else to go to or a place where you could be safe from the rejection of the world. But if you decided to stay by Mairon’s side: he would swear by his blackened heart that he would keep you safe. 

-He would destroy and kill anyone who would dare to lay harm upon you. 

-And if you remained together, he would even offer you a place as his ruling consort. 

-In any case, Mairon would be loyal, devoted, and never tell you a lie, even if one of his names was the great deceiver. 

-He would have even given you the one ring, his life, in your hands to prove his love to you.

[rebelrebelwrites]

Fic Friday! ❤️ Rebel's Weekly Fic Recs

This week's recs are...

As always, please mind the tags on any recommended story for your own personal preferences.

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The Classic You’ve Heard Of But Somehow Haven’t Read Yet: That Which Lies Across the Sea by EisforEverything

What you need to know going in:

Mmm, this fic. Part of a larger series called Use Well the Days (also primarily all WIP) that follows Mairon's story from his fall to his days with Galadriel and beyond, this fic is the last in the series, and it sees Sauron following Galadriel to Valinor after the end of LOTR. Humbling himself before the Valar, he seeks something if not true redemption. Meanwhile, the rest of Valinor chafes at his return, and without saying too much, there are repercussions to his—and everyone's—actions in Middle-earth. This ruminative, spellbinding story is rich with lore and just rich in general; a sumptuous feast of a fic you can sink your teeth into. Galadriel and Mairon's moments together are potent, but it's not just them. Prepare for heady altercations with many of your Tolkien favorites here.

WIP, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on AO3.

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The AU You Need to Immerse Yourself In Because, Well, Wow: A Stressed Tiding by @formerlyir

What you need to know going in:

-fans self- THIS FIC, let me tell you... was one of the first I read in this fandom, and hot damn, what a way to dive into Saurondriel/Haladriel. I've recommended @formerlyir's fics before, and will again because they're stupendously written and well-realized, but this one holds a special place in my heart for its steamy-as-all-hell premise and smut. A one-shot, post-S1 in which Galadriel offers Sauron a tantalizing deal: one night and one day together if they both don't participate in their impending battle—to help her turn the tide of the war, of course. 👀 This is seriously Saurondriel at my absolute favorite: brimming with angst and enemies-to-lovers-but-basically-still-enemies and 🔥🔥🔥 smut? Burning hot.

Complete, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Twitter, Instagram, and on AO3.

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The Complete But Never Forgotten Masterpiece: Through Peril and Fire by @yletylyf

What you need to know going in:

I struggled between picking between this fic and another I'm reading of @yletylyf's as they're both wonderful, but decided I should start with this completed fic! Post-S1, Galadriel follows Sauron to Mt. Doom, and facing a threat larger than their current conflict with each other, they team up (with help from some of our other Tolkien favorites) to save Middle-earth together. What struck me most about this fic is just how damn delightful it is. Don't get me wrong, it has its moments of angst and inner turmoil for our two lovebirds, but it's also so witty, so winsome in its banter and characterization and fine-tuned plot, you can just gobble it up for hours. A damn delight, indeed.

Complete, Teen & Up

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The WIP That Will Wreck You (In the Best Way): The Lesser of Two Evils by @thrillofhope

What you need to know going in:

Another post-S1 masterpiece in the making to share! Can I ever get enough of those? Absolutely not, and I'm sure many of you can't either. In this one from @thrillofhope (another writer you'll see repeatedly on this list, I'm sure), Sauron returns to Eregion to strike an alliance with the elves and our dear Galadriel, for fear of a returned Morgoth. Grudgingly, they concoct a plan to work together against the OG Dark Lord, who's still regaining his full strength. One of my favorite things about this fic is simply how much of a smarmy little shit Sauron is—it feels so achingly in character, and makes for a biting interplay between him and Galadriel that's delicious to consume. Characterization is super strong in this fic, and not just for our favorites, but for all Tolkien characters we have the pleasure of seeing in this story. There's still more to go, but I recommend you get caught up immediately... I have a feeling this one is going to be even more of a doozy than it already is.

WIP, Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The Can’t Stop Consuming No Matter What Time It Is Fic: Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den by @demonscantgothere

What you need to know going in:

Another @demonscantgothere classic! I'd be surprised if you haven't read it yet, as I feel like it's very well-known and well-loved (rightly so!), but just in case some of you haven't, the premise sees Galadriel in the First Age, offering herself in place of Finrod when he's trapped in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, BATB-style. This fic evokes feelings of a fairytale, but with a LOT more smut, and it's spicy. All manner of spiciness here, folks. Hot Ones has nothing on Helholden (@demonscantgothere). In addition to the absolutely 🔥🔥🔥 smut, prepare for a very mercurial Mairon—sorry, Halbrand! Couldn't resist the alliteration—a younger, more innocent but no less exacting Galadriel, and other wonderful inclusions from the First Age, including werewolves, Thuringwethil, Morgoth (at least by association, so far), and more. I don't want to spoil anything, so just go read it. 20 chapters in, 80 to go, according to the current count. In other words: hell yes.

WIP, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and on AO3.

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🤩🤩🤩

Me at all these fics:

Don’t see your story on this list yet? Keyword: yet. Please don’t fret! I can only recommend so many each week, but I am always looking for more stuff to read, share, and generally shower with love, so please feel free to reply with your own fics or your personal faves. I have plenty more to recommend… ❤️

Until next week!

[floatysparrowthing]

When they meet him outside their eyes immediately go to Mairon.

Caleb murmurs to Essek, “You didn’t tell me the demon looks like that.”

Mairon’s ears twitch in amusement as Essek scowls at him.

Verin awkwardly clears his throat. “Mairon, this is Essek and Caleb.”

The Savior of the Damned

Chapter 5: A Father’s Echo

In which Verin faces his past, present, and future; Mairon learns what a donut is; and Essek and Caleb join the party.

It wasn’t until Verin showed he was adept with a blade that his father took an interest in him.

Essek and their father had never truly gotten along. They clashed over their different interests: Essek was concerned with magic and books and their father wasn’t interested in delving into the mysteries of the universe, or whatever it was Essek said he was doing.

Verin, meanwhile, took an interest in everything. Essek taught him rudimentary spells, and he delighted in working them, but he found the studious part of wizardry couldn’t hold his attention. That frustrated Essek to no end, so he eventually gave up on teaching Verin, saying, When you are ready to put in the work and research, we can continue your studies.

This, in turn, frustrated Verin. He watched his older brother bend space and time and do marvelous things, all while he shirked his own studies and couldn’t seem to make it through a single textbook.

Just sit still and read it, his tutors, his parents, his brother would say. But Verin would rather learn hands on: exploring the underground caverns, looking for glowing mushrooms and cave-blind fish; shadowing Rosohna’s finest metalsmiths, burning his fingers when he tried it himself; and asking everyone he could find questions about their past lives.

Then they put a sword in his still small hands and he bested Essek and the few other noble children in one-on-ones, easily. Finally, it seemed, he was being praised for something. So he took to it eagerly. It was never boring: there was always a new weapon, or stance, or method to learn. He’d eagerly show off, swinging his blades around with perhaps too much enthusiasm.

And, best of all, his father wanted to hear how his training was coming along. As he grew older, the two of them traded blows in the practice yards and Verin turned to the attention like a sunflower to the sun. It was decided: Verin would be an echo knight like his father.

Read the rest here:

[cilil]

Author's Note: Requested by my good friend Thuri🖤

⋆ ｡･ ☾ Drabble ⋆ ｡･ ✩

After a long Day of Work

The peaceful scene is interrupted when the fires suddenly flare up and a low rumble echoes through the cavernous halls of Utumno, waking Mairon from his slumber.

Pairing: Melkor/Mairon | Angbang

Prompt: Coming home after a long day "I missed you" kisses (no. 17 of this lovely post)

Synopsis: Melkor returns to Utumno. Mairon welcomes him home.

Featuring: Fluff, dork lords in love

Short oneshot (~600 words)

The fires in the forge are crackling softly, illuminating the room with a warm golden glow while everything else remains still. Tools are scattered all over the workplace, disrupting the usual impeccable tidiness, and a wild array of papers covers a nearby table, showing sketches of upcoming projects and new inventions. 

Mairon is asleep. His head rests on top of his latest notes, and his breath is slow and quiet. A few fiery locks successfully manage to escape from his braid as he shifts around and settle over his face and shoulders like rivulets of flame. His fána finally succumbed to exhaustion after many hours of work which he neglected to count–an unfortunate side effect of his tendency to get so immersed in his projects that he forgets everything around him; and of Melkor currently not being there to distract him. 

The peaceful scene is interrupted when the fires suddenly flare up and a low rumble echoes through the cavernous halls of Utumno, waking Mairon from his slumber. He blinks in confusion and lifts his head, tucking a few locks behind his ear with mild irritation, until he realizes– 

He is back.

Golden eyes light up in joy, and he immediately forgets about his messy braid and the slight ache in his back and shoulders as he jumps to his feet and hurries outside. 

It feels as if the entire fortress greets its master with many small gestures of welcome that Mairon has become accustomed to. The fires burn hotter, the frosty winds outside become more fierce, the Vala's music echoes through the very foundations of the earth and the soft pitter patter of many paws and feet can be heard in the hallways when more and more Maiar and other creatures notice that their lord has returned. 

Mairon knows Melkor well enough to know where he has to look for him–neither at the gates, nor in his throne room, but in their shared chambers instead. And indeed he finds him there, waiting for him with a grin of joyful anticipation. A strong arm pulls him close when he runs to greet his beloved, tiptoeing to wrap his arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. 

Melkor chuckles lightly as he feels the heat of his favorite Maia's lips against his, kissing him with fiery, almost frantic excitement and yearning. Mairon presses his entire body against him with shameless need, and small sparks fall from his hair, his entire fána nearly burning with passion. 

They are both breathless when he finally breaks the kiss to look up at the Vala, pouting a little. 

"I missed you," he says, cheeks flushing red upon realizing how needy he must seem right now. 

Yet Melkor appears to be delighted by his greeting, holding him like he's his greatest treasure. 

"I missed you too, little flame," he replies and starts toying with a stray lock of his hair. 

"I take it you were busy in your forge, hmm?" 

"Well..." 

Mairon is a little embarrassed to admit that he fell asleep, but Melkor doesn't bother asking about it, already one step ahead.  

"And when was the last time you went to bed?" 

The Maia's expression becomes sheepish, telling him everything he needs to know. Shaking his head, he picks him up with playful ease and throws him over his shoulder. 

"Your projects will have to wait for the moment. You are going to bed with me right now," Melkor declares, then a smirk appears on his lips. 

"Which is also a wonderful opportunity for you to tell me more about how much you missed me..." 

masterlist | tag list form

[jandjsalmon]

Fic Reading Challenge Stats Dec & 2023 Round-up

Happy New Year! I come bearing reading stats and fic recs. I hope you're able to take some time and enjoy some of the stories that kept me company this year. 🖤

In 2023, I read (or reread) over 21.7 million words (1209 stories). My goal for this year was 20 million - so I'm feeling extra accomplished. I read 577 unique authors and 114 unique fandoms and 162 unique ships! The vast majority of stories this year were from one pairing - so the fact that I read even one story from this many pairings makes me happy.

I participated in the @fanfic-reading-challenge and completed every one of the 310 tasks this year! I earned the "You're Insane" badge and I couldn't be more proud of myself. The 2024 challenge is out now (and I'll post about it right after this one) - so I hope some of you will sign up and join the fun. There is no correct way to do it and you can read a little or a lot. It's just a twist to something you're all doing anyway.

And of course, thank you to everyone who gave me suggestions for stories and pairings and fandoms and who shared their favourite stories with me. I could not have gotten through this year without you and I’m SO grateful for you. 🥰

My 2023 Stats:

I always slide in first with December numbers before I hit the pie charts for the year... I read 1,773,452 words and 479 chapters in December. Since I'd already finished the Task Challenges, I mostly reread old favourites. I finished off the year rereading Viper Radio by @lucivar - and it was a DELIGHT as usual!

I was unsurprised by the fancy pie chart below. I know I read a LOT of Wenvier - and I reread a lot of Wenvier too. Ha ha. Of the 170 fics I read more than once during the year, only 15 weren't Wenvier. One series by @drollicpixiefanfic - I reread SEVEN TIMES throughout the year. For the Rare and Radiant Maiden is an AMAZING series. You should all read it!

The only "new" pairing I read this year was Ted/Rebecca - and that was because I was so incredibly unsatisfied by the ending of Ted Lasso. Apparently there were a lot of other people also unsatisfied because there has been a LOT of really great fic for them.

My favourite stat of the year was the author stat. Most of the stories I read this year were written by a large variety of different authors. 72% of the authors wrote ten or fewer of the 1209 stories I read… but then that 28% was full of 15 authors who wrote many more than that so I wanted to single them out. All but five of them are Wenvier authors - and I adore every one of them. Extra love to @ozmathegreatand @psychic-refugee @drollicpixiefanfic @donutcats @nevinimus @leftennant @thepointoftheneedle @smc-27 @myztify (and extra love to the Anon Author who wrote three AMAZING Percy/Jenna fics that I read four times each throughout the year. Kudos to you, Anon person. You were amazing this year and I hope we get more Black Keys titled fics from you in 2024)~

Some special favourites this year:

Sweet Nightmares are Made of This (series) by the_retro_witch (Wednesday/Xavier - E - Post Canon) - I remain DEVOTED to this story. It’s huge and awesome and hot and fun and yeah. SO good.

The Trials of Mairon by @jackpotgirl (Galadriel/Halbrand - E - Post Canon) - AMAZING. Finished up this year. Honestly one of the best fics I’ve ever read. Set AFTER Lord of the Rings but references stuff from Rings of Power. Galadriel gets to be Sauron’s judge and jury.

A Solitary Raven by my girl Agmo (seriously - read all of her work It's all amazing). (Wednesday/Xavier - E - Alternative Canon). Agmo really gets Xavier. And she writes this one from the perspective that he isn't going to let Wednesday slide on the "ravens must be alone" bullshit. It's so good. I reread it a lot this year.

Be Kind, Rewind by @ozmathegreatand (Wednesday/Xavier - T - Alternative Canon) --- It's a GROUNDHOG'S DAY CURSE fic! I love timeloops and this one kept me company over and over again this year. I get more out of it each time I read it. It's SO SO good.

Anyway - this is probably enough recs for now but if you every are looking for something interesting to read, hmu. 😘

Thanks for being here, friends.

Have a wonderful 2024!

[yletylyf]

10 Lines Tagging Game

Thank you for the tag, @rebelrebelwrites! This is glorious timing as I’ve published more than ten fics since last time I played!!

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway ❤️

1. Gollum woke to a black sky. He did not know where or what he was. Everything hurt, and the world was cruel. He curled into a ball, shivering and shaking, and tried not to remember anything. - Rainbow of Chaos, Sauron/Galadriel plus assorted gen relationships (Lord of the Rings, Rings of Power). I was quite convinced that opening on Gollum would turn off a lot of readers, but people like Gollum more than I realized. He is cute in his own way. He deserved better :(

2. It began with a flash of black across his vision. Gone as quickly as it came, Celebrimbor was left blinking in confusion. - Entwining, Celebrimbor/Sauron (the Silmarillion). My attempt at a long, fix-it fic for this ship. The first chapter is just a retelling of the canon moment when Celebrimbor discovers he’s been lied to, and the One Ring was forged. I’ve sort of stalled out on the writing... although I have the whole plot in my head.

3. Harry stirred from unconsciousness. At first, confusion was the only thing that registered. Last he remembered, he was sitting down at his kitchen table to eat a microwaved dinner. Alone. A quick break before he would have to be on duty for New Year's Eve. Had he fainted at his table? - Voyager, Healer, Survivor, cowritten with @maraudersaffair, Voldemort/Harry/Severus (Harry Potter). This first paragraph is so fun! It’s a time-travel with less time-travel angst than usual, because Harry isn’t thrilled about the idea of going back to his solo microwave dinners.

4. "She's not here," Celebrimbor observed. He deflated in disappointment. He lowered the scroll that he had been ready to brandish at Galadriel with a flourish. - What nourishes me, destroys me, Celebrimbor/Annatar/Galadriel (the Silmarillion). This is just porn. With my three faves. A lot of porn. I guess there is political intrigue and feelings, too.

5. There was a disturbance outside on the slopes of Orodruin. Halbrand had been sleeping. (Or passed out, whatever term was appropriate for his fits of unconsciousness brought about by overexertion.) He woke feeling deeply annoyed by the disturbance. - Through Peril and Fire, Halbrand/Galadriel (Rings of Power). I have so many feelings about this fic! I should do a long meta post about it someday. When I started writing it, I had not read the LotR trilogy in twenty years and I’d never read the Silmarillion, I just saw the season finale for the show and HAD TO write a fix-it where these two get together. You guys, I angsted for so long over whether Halbrand/Sauron sleeps. So silly of me! Maiar can sleep if the fic author wants em to, and don’t need to if s/he doesn’t. How I forgot that fundamental lesson after so many years of fic writing, I don’t know.

6. Smaug's earliest memory was of three shining Stars. They were jewels, but they were fairer than every other jewel he had ever seen put together. When he asked the Eldest of dragons what they were, the Eldest said he didn't know, but that they would burn Smaug if he touched them. - As rich as twenty seas, Smaug/his hoard (the Hobbit). A pinch hit I picked up for the Here Be Dragons exchange, because the prompt was amazing. By the time of this writing, I’d read the Silmarillion, but I had to pick up the Hobbit again for the first time in twenty years for it. A delight! Smaug is my new fave.

7. The shadow and flame at his side did not require chains to keep him in place. Maitimo was weak at their touch, as he was hauled along with his feet dragging on the ground, and he thought he would faint. He had no sense of place or the passage of time; all his mind was focused on repelling their evil touch from his spirit. - The first moonrise, Maedhros & Mairon & Morgoth (the Silmarillion). Aaah this fic. I am conflicted about it, along with its opening. You thought there were enough fics about Maedhros in Angband, did you? Well think again! Featuring a Mairon who is something more than a flat torture-robot for Morgoth.

8. "Well, it's certainly an honor to be asked by the Minister of Magic himself," Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank said, but despite the respect she intended to convey, her tone came out sounding dubious. - The Art of Preservation, Minerva McGonagall/Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank (Harry Potter). Ultra-rare femslash!! A hoggywarts exchange fic, which is a very storied event I was so happy to take part of this past year. What a wonderful community!

9. Galadriel climbed the tower swiftly, in spite of the clunky boots she was wearing, made by humans for humans. She was not the type to let a little tower of stone, or the wrong equipment, get in the way of her quest. - A means of mastering it, Galadriel/Tar-Miriel (Rings of Power). More femslash! Another (semi) fix-it where Galadriel kicks butt, gets rid of a pest, and lands herself a queen girlfriend. Written for Yuletide, a thrilling one-time thing as the fandom will never again be eligible, lol.

10. "Harrow," said the Body. She placed her hand over yours, her touch featherlight and chilly. Once again, her voice had changed—it now sounded exactly like your own. "You do not know what you ask." - your mind a shell, Harrow/Alecto (the Locked Tomb). Creepy ghost/hallucination femslash! It’s a missing scene from canon, but with smut. Harrow has a sexual awakening; Alecto (the Body) may or may not be real; Gideon fumes.

Tagging @phantomato, @metalomagnetic, @lumosatnight, @hsvh-hp, @cindle-writes, @turanga4, @perverse-idyll, @leogichidaa, @ncoincidences, and @danpuff-ao3 but only if you want to play!

[urwendii]

OC game

tagged by @crysdrawsthings THANK YOU you just made my evening with this omg !!! I have a LOT of bg OCs but these ones are the one with actual fleshed out stories:

under the cut because i wrote a lot as usual

Favorite OC | Dumbest (Affectionate) OC | OC I would be best friends with:

-> [Original Story] LUKAN. L U K A N. listen sorry, Aryn knows why, we talk abt him a lot. Luk, he's just the best, he's that dumb part of me that likes to tinker with everything and gets electrocuted because why checking if the power is still on when you can solder that component right away? he's a Prince in a fantasy world, but he has ADHD with the Hyper streak at 200%, he loves to make things but most of his inventions would end up blowing up at some point, he's totally clueless about some social situations, he is helplessly in love with Cyra but goes about it in the utterly wrong way and def has a kink in getting rejected / sassed away.

He's the type to get distracted mid-battle because Would you look at this great invention in the enemy's new catapult system!! while his poor soldiers are holding on for dear life trying to defend their Prince.

he's meme material but he's the very best and has his moments.

Newest OC:

-> [Tolkien] AMARËA !!!!! i love Amarëa she's my new Maia blorbo and I love her. Bit spoilerish but I think by now everyone interested in reading All The Fire Bright have read the Reveal so... She's Arien's daughter (andmairon's). Sung into being, and just about as annoying as a child of these two can be. Jk. she's a child. Children are of course delightful :) She however has the annoying tendency to revert to her spirit form - a ball of fire when upset. children amiright...Ossë is her favourite uncle but no one is surprised. She had a child crush on Finrod before the exile of the Noldor. I like irony as you can see. Thats a difficult conversation she will have with her dad later :)

Oldest OC:

-> [SWTOR] That would be Althia I think. She was my 1st Marauder with a terrible past (like most of my OCs ngl), young babey Jedi who got kidnapped by a Sith and raised in the academy on Korriban and ended up being the Emperor's Wrath (while still being light side because take that!)

Now I miss swtor...

Meanest OC

-> [Tolkien] I don't really have mean OCs as per say, just really sassy ones but maybe the rudest would be Aramírë, one of Aulë's Maiar. She's featured in PYL as one of the few Maiar joining Ossë in trying to bring Mairon back before he does something stupid (again). She's bold and confident and doesn't take shit from wannabe-emo-dark-lord sulking away on Númenor.

-> [SWTOR] edit: Actually my meanest OC would be Marha. She was my Jedi Knight. Jedi with a complicated relation with the Republic, was Fallen at some point, ends up as the Alliance Commander against Zakuul. Aurea's Twin sister although they grew up separately when Marha and her mother fled the invasion of their native planet by Zakuul. (Altathea - a planet of the largest community of Miraluka in this region of the galaxy.) Hates the Emperor with her whole being. Mostly a neutral Jedi, have seen too much war to be unaffected and doesn't hesitate to make the tough calls. Definitely has a cold demeanor but captivity + possession + forced leadership after second captivity by your first jailor's son will do that to you.

Softest OC:

-> [SWTOR] Aurea. my Miraluka babe, part of Zakuul's Force army and Thexan's betrothed (well before Arcann rudely nuks him) She's the softest, and goes through SO MUCH emotional horrors. She's gorgeous though and a skilled Force healer. Has an unbreakable tight bond with her Scion teammate, Elhaan. Might end up in an ot3 with him and Thexan at some point.

Most Aloof/Standoffish OC | Smartest OC:

-> [Original Story] Cyra. Lukan's L.I. My autistic child <3. About the smartest person in the room at all time. She loves books more than she loves people, hates wearing shoes and loud noises, emotions are ...complicated and there are so many of them to try to guess in others. She's of dragon kin and wears some recognisable features as such. Will bite you with poisonous fangs if you try to kiss her. Princess of The Old Times(tm), has a huge memory and will weaponise it against you. Cursed. Secretly lonely.

[brynnmclean]

[in the style of Road to El Dorado] Both? Both. BOTH IS GOOD! 💬❤️

I don't know how I'm supposed to choose ONE quote from your beautifully heartbreaking Adar-origin fic awake, arise or be for ever fall'n but I will do my best!!!

Okay, it's a long-ish section, but you know I love Lenneth and her teaching Adar the names of the stars (and then naming him after a constellation when he refuses to tell her his original name):

His heart swells with a newborn sense of wonder as she guides him on this exploration of the skies. For though he knows them well, he feels as though he is seeing them now for the first time. And he remembers, with perfect clarity, the delight of awakening to the starlight, of the twinkling eyes that had welcomed him to the world with their beauty and their radiance.

A desperate yearning mingles with the wonder: for he wishes more than anything that he could speak to Erenyë, to reveal to her all he has learned, to tell her that the stars, his beloved stars, have names—names more lovely than any he could ever have dreamed.

The stars swim and merge together before his eyes as they become suddenly obscured by tears: tears born equally of rare, unbridled joy and depthless sorrow. He feels one escape, and he drops his gaze, ashamed.

It is then that he becomes aware that she is watching not the stars, but him.

“You are moved by them,” she observes. “Their light, their beauty. Your heart is touched by the stars, as the hearts of my people are.” She turns, pointing again, this time to the northeast, just above the tree line. “Do you see that constellation there—the five stars that form a diamond, with two bright ones beneath? That is Telumendil, whom the elves call lover of the skies. It has long been my favorite among all of Varda’s makings. Perhaps it will come to be yours as well.”

I love these fleeting moments of beauty and goodness in the, as you say, LIFETIME of pain that Adar experiences. They're so breathtaking. And I love Lenneth for looking for and seeing the long neglected heart of Adar.

And then for me for fell in love with the fire long ago, how can I NOT pick something from the Aulë chapter? Gotta go with Little Spark!!!

“Little Spark,” Aulë says, voice dropped low and rumbling around the nickname Mairon hasn’t heard since the world was made. “I’ve trusted you to know your own mind and your heart.”

Mairon bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes copper. Tremors run through his body like the plates of the earth shifting. He presses his brow against the cool stone floor, even though it bares the back of his neck to the grasp of a Vala. The memory of how Melkor gripped and dug his nails into the skin there wells up like an open wound. He had thought then that Melkor would try to break him apart, but that he could have withstood it. If Aulë touches him now, he knows he’ll shatter. Coming here today, he expected anger, he expected rejection—but kindness cuts closer than a knife.

“Mairon,” Aulë says again, gentle and terrible. “You didn’t go too far. You’re still my own.”

I had so much fun with this because Mairon is such a mess of complicated emotions in this moment-- and so is Aulë, trying to comfort Mairon but unsure how! AND the dramatic irony we all have of knowing that the Canon Timeline has Mairon going too far and turning into Sauron. Did Aulë chase after him? Tolkien didn't say. My heart hurts thinking that maybe he didn't!!!!

[ask me about fic quotes!]

[saintsilmarillion]

Our Antlers Tanged Interlude 2

Servants & Shadows for @feast-of-horns

Featuring Gothmog / Melkor having a little ... chat

Follow the full fic on AO3

Rating T

‘Tell me about Mairon.’

Melkor finds his Lieutenant in eyrie, one of the higher caverns of Utumno where the light of the Lamps almost reaches its depths. All it would illuminate is the many thousands of bats roosting between the stalactites. Nothing that hints at the sprawling labyrinth of chambers and halls beneath, teaming with umaia and void-creatures that await only Melkor’s command to swarm the surface. Nothing to arose the valar’s suspicion. Except the hulking valarauka currently standing at its centre, draped in several of their messengers. 

‘Mairon?’ Gothmog asks, surprise colouring his tone. He lifts a clawed hand to the cavern ceiling, gently urging the bats hanging there to shuffle to more practical lodgings. 

‘Yes,’ Melkor replies. With a flicker of thought he shifts form to something taller than the valarauka, more shadowy and blazing, jagged as the rock formations around them. ‘He is a fire spirit like you.’ 

‘Not quite alike, he is maia to Aulë.’ His Lieutenant turns to him as he approaches, but the fiery depths of his eyes are with his thoughts, not the moment. 

Melkor gently plucks a stray bat from one of Gothmog’s curling horns, wondering idly if the inspiration for them came from the Feast of Horns. An adornment he favoured in those days, perhaps. 

The little creature wiggles their large ears, feeling out the one who has disturbed their roost. Satisfied that Melkor means no harm, they dig their claws into jagged his skin, crawling up his palm in search of a greater height to hang from. No doubt he will be pulling entire families of bats from his hair for weeks to come. They are entirely too fond of nesting in it.  

He looks up from his tiny companion to find Gothmog’s attention returned. He regards Melkor with growing curiosity, a question forming around him before it is brought to voice.

‘Why do you seek to know, my Lord?’

Melkor is reminded of a similar fire spirit, his delicate finger tips raised in question. 

He takes Gothmog’s jaw in his hand, claiming a kiss he will not be denied. His Lieutenant responds obediently, drawing closer and tipping his head up to his master. It is not the same.

Melkor breaks the kiss but keeps his hold. His eyes rove greedily over the valarauka before him. His loyal vassal compared to his enemy’s faithful subject. Fire and smoke they may share, but the thrill of resistance, the bite of hatred is lacking. 

‘I believe he may be won to our cause.’ 

Gothmog makes a derisive sound. 

‘I could not think of a less likely being to join us.’ He says, laughter echoing softly from some hollow place within the darkness that wreathes him.

Melkor releases him. 

‘Why?’ He frowns. Has he truly stumbled across a challenging target? All the sweeter still that Mairon chose to come to him not only once, but twice baited. 

‘He is a creature of order, Lord. Mairon was known for his particular ways among the smiths. Very precise in his craft too. I do not believe he has ever produced less than perfection.’ 

It is clear his Lieutenant does not think Utumno would provide an ideal environment for such a maia. 

It vexes Melkor that he might not also strive for perfection. Might seek it in his servants and drive them to their best.  

‘The pursuit of fine craft is may be the very desire that turns him to alternative powers.’ Melkor says. He paces away, runs a hand over the chalky stone of a ledge a little ways from where the bats rest.

‘He revels in control. I could not see him allowing another power over him. No matter the offering.’ Gothmog shakes his head, still resolute in his vision of the other maia.

Melkor lounges back on the stone and raises a brow. He enjoys the challenge his Lieutenant poses and will delight in beating it. He summons him over with a curl of his fingers. 

Gothmog comes to him, ever dutiful. 

Melkor pulls him down atop him. 

‘Very good, you have been helpful.’ He murmurs, lazily tracing the carved muscles of his Lieutenant’s upper back, the crook where shadowed cloak moulds against shoulder. 

Gothmog murmurs pleasantly and nuzzles at his chest reverently, but Melkor's thoughts are elsewhere. He broods on more difficult prey. 

There is much he can tempt his little flame with, he need only secure the trap. Find a way to shatter the control Mairon seeks until he is on his knees begging to be ordered, begging to be mastered.

[lanthanum12]

Niennandil Advent Calendar Day 1

Happy Holidays everyone!! This year everyday including Christmas, I'm hoping to share a short story about Yule and it's celebration in Arda in my favorite AU of the whole legendarium, the Niennandil-verse! Things are pretty complicated, I will admit (I can't keep track of my own stories XD) so at the end of each chapter, I'll include some context for the different ocs and everything! I hope you all enjoy!

---------------------------------

        Nienna’s gift list grew longer every year. New children were born and new elves sailed to Tol Eressa. This year, however, there were even more. Olorín had returned and with him came two hobbits and one being, named Sméagol, who was not truly a hobbit anymore but she loved him just the same. All of them, besides Sméagol, had received a keg of her famous lemonade. Sméagol got caviar. She had planned on giving him an outfit, but Vairë and Fíriel had supplied Sméagol, Bilbo, and Frodo with fifty outfits each. They were so delighted by the little ones.

        There was of course the Ainur she worked with. They were to have a party tomorrow as they did every year. Mairon would be joining them for the first time ever along with his friend Lómion. She was a little bit worried about how everything would go with Mairon as many were wary of him. Though she was planning on doing everything in her power to make it a success. It was the first Yule he would be celebrating with them after all!

        But right now she was going to visit the elf family she was closest to, the House of Nerdanel and Fëanor. When she came to their house for their annual Yule feast, she was met with a cheer and a tight hug from Maglor. Despite her seeing him earlier this morning. Soon much of the family joined in and she was rather crushed and crowded in amongst Fëanor, Nerdanel, their seven children, six spouses, five grandkids, one great-granddaughter, and a dog. Celebrían and Fíriel stood on the edge, laughing.

        “Can we have presents now?” Niennamírë asked. They were Gwindor’s and Maedhros’s little orcling who had been recently reembodied and adopted into the family.

        “We must wait until Lady Nienna is ready,” Niennarille, Mírë’s older brother, hissed. Nienna leaned down next to the orclings and handed them each a package.

        “It’s a little early but these are for you,” Nienna said. Mírë eagerly ripped into the paper of theirs and unwrapped a stack of books.

        “I’m going to learn how to read! I’m going to read all about ada and atto!” Mírë squealed, hugging their books tightly in their arms.

        “We do not know this yet,” Rille cautioned.

        “Of course you will, Mírë, you as well Rille,” Maedhros assured, “Rille, why don’t you open your package?”

        Rille turned his parcel over in his hand, sniffing it and feeling every corner, “I don’t know.”

        “I can tell you what’s inside it if it would make you feel better, or we can open it together,” Nienna assured him.

        “I want to know what’s inside,” Rille said.

        “Okay, I got you a plush of a warg as I know those are your favorite animals,” Nienna explained. Rille ‘s lips turned up as he slowly undid the wrapping paper. Sure enough inside was a warg with silver fur made of the softest silk and an emerald bow. 

        Rille stroked the warg’s fur, “Thank you…”

        “You are so welcome,” Nienna wiped away some tears that came at the siblings’ joy. This is why she gave gifts. It was another way for those she loved to be able to know that.

--------------------------------------

Lanthie here! Thanks for reading day one!

Okay so this one takes place in the fourth age and here are some of the changes: Sméagol lives! Mairon/Sauron gets reembodied and is now living in the halls of Nienna. I'm a big Gwindor x Maedhros shipper (and the one that I know of off the top of my head (I'm so sorry if you ship them too and I forgot >.<), I might even be one of the very first?!) and in my verse they get married and adopt two orclings. Orcs get reembodied in my verse, as orcs. Mírë and Rille have no clue who their biological parents are, Nienna and the rest of the Valar are trying to figure that out in case Mírë and Rille want to meet them someday.

Anyways this was some really fun fluff, I love Mírë and Rille! I wish I paid more attention to them tbh.

[eggxeggxegg]

The Anti-seduction of Mairon

***

Melkor waited anxiously at their secret spot. He didn’t think he’d ever become immune to the fear that Mairon wouldn’t show. It was only a matter of time, he thought, before Mairon woke up and realized their clandestine meetings were all a big mistake.

But to Melkor’s delight, he saw Mairon coming his way, and they seemed to be light of heart. This was an uncommon mood, as they were always so solemn in manner and often stern in actions.

“What brings such a happy state of mind?” asked Melkor.

“Why, I have broken the glass ceiling and now the world is my oyster,” Mairon said with a laugh. “I have left the service of Aule to accept your offer.”

Melkor went cold, unable to believe the words that were too good to be true. His voice was small. “Is this a cruel trick of the Valar?”

Mairon was bewildered by his grave reaction. “No. They know nothing of me and you. I literally resigned without notice just now. Aule doesn’t even know I left.”

Melkor couldn’t understand these sudden turn of events in his favor. “This doesn’t sound anything like you, precious. To just up and run away? That isn’t you. In the cold light of morning I think you’ll feel different about this.”

Mairon closed the distant between them and Melkor melted into their embrace. “I’ve made my decision, Melkor, and I want to be with you.”

[lemurious]

Tolkien Secret Santa 2021: In the Beginning

My @officialtolkiensecretsanta​ gift to... ???... to be revealed on December 24th! 

Read on AO3 here. 

Chapter 1: Notetaking Is Serious Business

Meeting #1 of the Valinorean Governance Committee for the Care and Stewardship of Arda and Aman.

Chair: Manwë of the Valar, Lord of Winds.

Deputy: Varda of the Valar, Star-kindler.

Notetaker: Mairon of the Maiar, Admirable in Penmanship and Other Important Qualities, to be Detailed Later. I’ll transcribe a clean version of the notes for them, and I doubt anyone will read them anyway. At least now I can have some fun while appearing to scribble most assiduously.

Also, has anyone noticed Manwë’s blatant favoritism? Making his own wife his deputy. I can practically hear Thuri hissing in rage from where she is stuck in the back of the room with the rest of the Maiar. Myself, I get to sit in the front row, in plain view of the Valar.

I’m glad I’m wearing all my jewelry, Olórin’s advice be damned. That prude. “You can’t pile on a golden necklace and arm rings, Mairon. The metal plates in the skirt are too much, Mairon. Fur collars are gauche, Mairon, at least do remove the ears and tail to make it a bit more stylish.”

Sorry, but this wolf pelt makes me look fierce. Especially after lining my eyelids with some coal from the brazier, and an hour with brushes, gels and sprays to achieve just the right kind of “I woke up like this” hairdo. And guess what, now I am the one who gets to introduce this uptight bunch of the Valar to the latest fashions. Seriously, Manwë, the feathers are so last year.

Speaking of which, I really need to tell Eönwë to stop imitating his boss. I know the poor dear is infatuated beyond all common sense, but Manwë has eyes only for his own wife. I guess I could take Eönwë out for drinks, commiserate on our permanent bachelorhood, gossip about the love lives of the less prudish Valar to take his mind off his predicament… (I am all but sure that Yavanna secretly lives in a threesome! Aulë and Nienna. Some Valar have all the luck). Anyway, that’s not going to be much of a chore, these new Dwarves of Aulë’s are excellent brewers.

Right! Back to notes.

Item 1. Of Light and Darkness. And, if I may add, of multiple stress injuries from hammering mithril into those tiny leaves and stems that form the lampposts.

Not that anyone will ever see them up close, the blasted Lamps would blind anyone except perhaps the hardiest Vala long before then. But, of course, Varda needs perfection, and whose job is it to make her wishes come true? Got it in one! That would be us, also known as dutiful forge-Maiar, generally forgotten by everyone else but Aulë, who, granted, at least works just as hard as we do.

Apparently, Varda has noticed that the Eastern Lamp is not quite a perfect mirror image of the Western Lamp, and desires the entire Eastern lamppost to be remade. Suggestion accepted by Aulë, though at least he has the sense to not look exactly delighted by it. As if Varda could even pretend to care that she has just put the entire forge to slog through another year without any properly creative work.

Hey, this is interesting! Melkor is asking, could we lift the Lamps high enough to shed light on Arda as well?

Everyone looks nonplussed, as if, why would they even care about Arda?

In response, Melkor is mentioning plants and animals, and apparently, something or someone called The Firstborn. Manwë is shushing him for speaking out of order, since The Firstborn seem to be listed farther along in the agenda.

Melkor’s voice is really most commanding, though his attire distinctly lacks jewelry. Though I agree that basic black is a good fallback in any situation.

A rolled-up piece of paper just hit my head.

You look like you’ve been whacked on the head with a hammer. May want to stare at Melkor with a bit more subtlety.

Thuri, of course. Who else. Love and desire don’t do anything for her, so she thinks she can torment her poor forgemate now. Also, I only briefly described his outfit. Surely that’s subtle enough. That voice though, makes one’s insides turn to liquid.

Oh no.

An objection from Yavanna officially recorded and a wolf pelt removed from the Notetaker’s shoulders, to be given a suitable burial. All Greater and Lesser Ainur reminded to avoid killing Yavanna’s creations. Official objections by Oromë and Tulkas recorded. Following, two hours of discussion of the difference between a hunt and a murder.

At least quarrelling has made them forget about me. Also, I swear that Melkor swallowed hard when he saw me removing the pelt, which left my pecs bare to the world. All that hammering of fancy lampshades was not for nothing! But, they seem to have reached a truce. Back to notes.

Chapter 2: Beings of Variable Intelligence

Item 2. Of Intelligent Beings.

Sometimes I hate my job. I know, I’ve only had this particular job since this morning, but I do hate it already. It just hurts. For whatever reason Manwë decided to go full Ilúvatar Mode on this item. Perfection of all aspects of body and mind (I am counting seconds until Thuri goes ballistic), all beings created and blessed by Eru Himself and none other…

I see Yavanna and Aulë are looking uneasily at each other after that proclamation, and Melkor is positively tossing lightning bolts out of his ears. They do look rather intriguing and give him a certain air of danger, zipping around his head like a crown.

Recording an interruption by Thuringwethil, a Maia of Manwë’s.

Truth be told, I hate to call her one of Manwë’s. He only remembers her when he feels like doling out some more punishments. Thuri spends all her time in the forges with us, and fortunately Aulë doesn’t give a broken nail about whom she officially responds to. Also, she, as a flightless, nearly voiceless Maia, has a few words to say every time she hears of the Divine Perfection. Usually, the kind of words that are not repeated in polite company.

Recording Thuringwethil’s removal from the premises.

At least Olórin followed Thuri when she was thrown out of the door. There may be something decent about him after all. I would have come, of course, but I am rather stuck taking these notes. I’ll have to talk to Thuri, she should just go and switch her allegiance to us, if that’s even doable. She’s wasted at Manwë’s.

Also, the whole sorry picture of them dragging her out was accompanied by most distracting zapping noises from Melkor’s lightning crown. Which really brought out the ice blue shade of his eyes.

Oh look, another message, inside a lovely origami frog this time. Manwë has no right to control our creativity. We need to stand up to injustice. I don’t even need a signature to tell that it’s Curumo’s, it only differs from his typical missives by not signing off with a call for general strike.

I don’t exactly disagree with the standing up part, either. I think we could count on at least a few Valar to support us, though this will be a matter of strategy and not of ideology. I hope Curumo can see it, and will let me take care of what I do best. Organizing.

Recording Manwë’s announcement of a new Kindred soon to be born, on the shore of Cuiviénen in the East of Arda. The first ones to awake with a mind of their own.

Aulë and Yavanna are looking at each other most suspiciously. Also, what do they mean first? We woke up a long time ago, the Dwarves were somewhat delayed, but they have a veritable underground network of mines and beer-halls by now, and I’d hazard to say, Oromë has his opinion about whether Nahar “has a mind of his own” too, despite being a (very bad tempered) horse.

Somehow, neither Aulë or Oromë seem particularly keen on voicing their concerns. Instead, here goes Melkor again, and I swear that Manwë is trying his hardest to avoid rolling his eyes. Brothers, I suppose.

He is calling for all of us to go down to greet those Firstborn and guide them, and again to raise the Lamps to shed some light on Arda, so that they would not have to wake up in the darkness. Very reasonable suggestions!

Predictably, Varda disagrees, saying that her starlight is quite sufficient, thank you, and the Firstborn (who will technically be called Elves) will worship her stars to the end of their days. Does she actually care about making those days a little more, well, livable?

Ooh, Melkor just asked exactly that. Seriously, he’s the only Vala with some sense. And, apparently, a strong enough opinion on not leaving the newly intelligent beings to fend for themselves, that he now is directly threatening to go right over to Cuiviénen, whether he is allowed to or not.

Recording Lord Melkor being unfairly removed from the premises.

Another paper frog has just hopped on my desk. It feels a little weird to unfold them, but that’s Curumo for you. He couldn’t care less about living (OK, I admit, paper) creatures. We should go find these Firstborn. They’ll call us kings! the message in the frog says.

I literally turn around and hiss at Curumo for about half a second. Not that I haven’t dreamed about being a king of my own realm, but pretending to be superior just because the other folks are, for all intents and purposes, a bunch of newborns, is no basis for kingship. I may have to talk to him about that more. Still, the suggestion is intriguing. I wonder if Melkor will be going there too…

Which as of right now is irrelevant. It is all completely irrelevant, because, oh, Void and Darkness, this is bad. Very, very bad.

Recording: Lord Manwë speaks with the Voice of Eru Ilúvatar to remind everyone that He alone has the power to create new intelligent kindreds on Arda or Aman, and demand that Aulë destroy his feeble mockeries of creation, the so-called Dwarves.

Destroy. I feel I cannot even make myself write this, but I am required to take notes. My chest is burning, I can’t see straight, it’s like I got a hot blast in the forge.

The feeble mockeries of creation. I just had a beer over at Durin and Sons yesterday, fine lads, settling very well under the local mountain.

Aulë doesn’t look much better than I feel, Nienna is sobbing already (though she generally is at this time of day), and Yavanna has just attempted to jump up to say something, but Aulë dragged her down and told her to keep quiet. Nobody has ever seen him go against her wishes, so this must be something major.

I suppose, Curumo would know. A new paper frog hops up as if right on cue.

Yavanna has her own Intelligent Beings, or whatever they’re called. They call themselves Ents. At least as smart as the Dwarves, and only drink water. Think we could blackmail Yavanna in return for some poison recipes?

I somehow manage to scribble the response straight onto the frog. No.

Because that would make us just like them.

That is all I can manage. Would Curumo, truly, tell Manwë about Yavanna’s Ents if he did not get his poisons? I feel I have never really known him. I wish he still called for strikes and uprisings. I could join one. Because Aulë, the same terrifyingly brilliant and unceasingly kind Aulë, my boss, is now offering to crush all his Dwarves if they do not please Ilúvatar, while tears are running down into his beard.

I find that I cannot look him in the face... I turn my eyes away, and focus on the notetaking.  

Recording: the Dwarves are spared, though they will only be reawakened on Arda, and only after the Firstborn.

(I bet the Firstborn would be perfectly delighted not to be Firstborn, if that meant someone else was around who could take care of them during those early days, show them around a bit. Let them get used to the Arda life. But Manwë, for whatever reason, likes the name and wants to make the story fit.)

I don’t have heart for any more jokes, however feeble they might be. This is the verdict. Back to sleep for all our Dwarven pals. Almost, back to ground.

Recording: Lord Aulë and Lady Yavanna have left the premises. On their own accord.

I should come over, offer some comfort to the Dwarves. Perhaps even to Aulë, I know he’d expect me to. But I just… can’t. I know Aulë is suffering, I know he regrets everything he’s done, and I just can’t do it.  Because he has done nothing wrong, and now, thanks to Manwë and Ilúvatar, he is so sure he has that it is tearing him apart.

Recording. End of Meeting, with the next meeting scheduled in four weeks precisely.

Chapter 3: Worlds To Be Explored

I walk past Curumo, past Olórin and Thuri huddled right outside the door, discussing some philosophical idea, and go to the forge before anyone else gets there. Methodically, without any trace of sentiment (as if, my mind insists, but I ignore it) I collect all my tools, put them in a bag, lug it all the way to my chambers. At that point, Valinor feels like it’s squeezing my chest, and I can hardly breathe. I know I am supposed to be magnanimous and understanding, and a true follower of Ilúvatar. But I can’t. Because Aulë would rather let the Dwarves die than challenge some arbitrary rule.

After a couple of days of languishing at home I go out for a walk, which turns into a trot, until I leave Tirion and go straight into the surrounding forest, not bothering with trails. This is Oromë’s realm, and judging from his face at the end of that last meeting of the Valar, he was not going to be paying attention to anything but his hunt for the next few days.

If I won’t be returning to the forge – but - I won’t be. I have made my choice – then I need to decide whether I want to remain in Valinor at all. Should I go ahead and steal a lamp to bring those poor Firstborn, whoever they might be, some light? But I hardly have strength for that… I hardly have strength for anything, even thinking, except the bitterness in my chest.

In the future I will probably describe my emotions as rage, righteous anger and a touch of rebellion. What I feel instead is betrayed. I thought I found a misfit family in the forge, both the other Maiar and the... the Dwarves. I tried to approach the Maiar, but Thuri shrieked that she was going back to Manwë’s (I will have to find her, soon, she can refuse to acknowledge how they treat her over there, but I know how much it hurts her), Olórin sashayed straight off to Nienna’s (to mourn over the Dwarves, I suppose?) and Curumo…

Well, Curumo decided to go look at Aulë’s notes while Aulë was away, putting his Dwarves to sleep under the rocks of Arda. That forgemate of mine is only too curious about forging another breathing, thinking being like a fancy trinket.

And when he asked me if I was interested too, I said yes. What was there to lose? I don’t know what either of us will do with what we have learned, but I, for one, am not going to forget the technique. Nor the punishment that it would bring.

Aren’t forests supposed to look peaceful? This one is all obnoxious crows and fir trees. And apparently, a random Ainu out for a stroll. I hope he won’t notice me, but my luck hasn’t exactly been the greatest recently, so, of course, he walks straight towards where I am trying to blend into a tree trunk.

“Would you like some company, or would you prefer not to be disturbed?” says the newcomer, and I, I would recognize that voice anywhere. The last time I heard it I was taking notes in the Valarin council until the voice’s owner was kicked out for disturbing the peace.

“Lord Melkor,” I say with respect, doing everything I can to smother an entirely inappropriate grin. I am supposed to be mourning my sad fate and disillusionment with Valinor in general and Aulë in particular! “You are welcome to join me. Plenty of space among the roots.”

“Are you hiding?” he asks me next, and all my joy evaporates.

“Yes,” I say, and, I don’t know where I get the courage, but I ask him next: “Are you?”

I don’t think Melkor is easily surprised, but he looks at me like he’s never thought of paying attention before.

“To an extent,” he agrees. “I don’t think I will stay around for much longer…”

“Where will you go?”

“Arda. Where else?”

“But... It’s all dark there?”

“And? There are no windows in your forge either, to let in Lamplight. Is it exactly dark there?”

“We have fire!”

“And Arda doesn’t,” he says confusingly.

“No?” I’m trying to figure out what he meant.

Oh. Oh right. I practically jump to show him that I understood the hint. “Not unless we bring it.”

“That’s a start,” Melkor grins, and I am a fool and a half, but I have to admit to myself, I am gone. I’ll go on whatever madcap adventure he’ll take me.

“One could… learn so much there,” he continues, and isn’t it entirely unfair how he already knows what I desire the most? Knowledge. Learning.

“And you can have a kingdom.” It is just as obvious to me what he truly wants.

“With what subjects?” Melkor asks morosely.

“I am sure we can manage…” I say, trying not to tell him outright what I have learned from Aulë’s notes.

“We,” doesn’t sound half bad, does it?” the Vala finishes and stretches out his hand to me. Judging from his shaky grip, I am not the only one turned to jelly by the fact that we are Having a Conversation.

“Not at all,” I agree. “I found a few notes on the creation of Dwarves. I think, as long as we could keep it secret…”

Melkor’s eyes are positively aflame now, brighter than the Lamps.

“We could meet the Firstborn once they come out, too. Perhaps we don’t need to make subjects of our own. The ones already there will suffice.”

“As long as we won’t demand perfection.”

I think of Thuri, and of all the misshapen creations that Yavanna had cast out of her gardens over time, all of her experiments, and I know that unless Melkor agrees with me I will not be going with him. Not even if he offered me all the jewels on Arda, and himself besides.

“Never.”

Good, we are of the same opinion here. “So, when do we start, and how do we get there?” I never believed in long conversations politely skirting the actual topic.

In response, Melkor takes my hand and launches into the air, straight through the treetops and up into the sky, until the air gets freezing cold and we are above the Lamplight.

For the first time since the Music began I see stars, spilling out in a path across the sky, arrayed in constellation beyond constellation, far deeper than my sight can reach, stars in the faintest shades of blue, white and red, just a hint of color. Stars singing to me in their glory and majesty and wonder, calling my heart to them.

Melkor’s arms are around me now, and I am not afraid to fall.

“There are worlds uncounted,” he whispers, and my heart skips a beat.

“Worlds to be explored,” I answer.

It sounds like flirting, but it is only the truth. For both of us. I know I will never be able to rest and be content under the lampshades while there are stars above. And judging from how he flies me over the forest and far away from the city, towards the ice-capped mountains looming in the distance, neither will he.

[selenite85]

Never Miss a Star

Stars, stars everywhere. Glittering, uncountable, like a handful of sand thrown against the light of the day.

There was the Milky Trail, right overhead, splitting the sky dome in two. And then, behind it, another giant cloud of stars, tilted just perfectly for everyone to see its structure: A beautiful, flat spiral with a blazing bulge in its core.

Watching the heavenly scenery as a whole, as an image imprinted on a giant canvas, he felt as mesmerized as all the incarnates who had ever looked up at the nightsky of Arda Healed.

Only after he opened his third eye, Mairon's experience changed. He was no longer a watcher. At that moment, he became a traveler reaching into the heights, past the dividing darkness, through the rays of starlight, right to the countless worlds lit by it.

Somewhere out there his former master was now, reunited with his kin, discovering new territories of the never-ending, remade universe.

But what about Mairon himself? Did he feel lonely? Had he ever?

In fact, in his previous life, he had prefered being alone. It was an old habit, avoiding others (namely his master), for his own sake.

Now there was a difference. Apart from the lights in the sky, there were lights on the ground shining, too. Down there, under the rocky mountain range, was the location of a multitude of artificially lit cities and villages. Yes, he had helped build those.

Apart from taking delight in the creative process itself, Mairon also felt an obligation to the inhabitants. Who were they? Well, one would mistake them for elves, yet these creatures were considerably shorter and active predominantly during the night time. In their previous life, they had been called orcs.

As of now, Mairon did not quite understand why these creatures did not hate him, why they wouldn't jump at him and just tear him apart. It would be a logical thing to do, he deserved it after all. And they were not afraid anymore. But somehow, these new elves were still reluctant with their vengeance. Instead, it seemed that the only things they truly cared about were frequent celebrations. And that certainly would not do. Thus Mairon took himself away from them and their joyous gatherings. He felt he should be alone, live separately. This time for the sake of the others.

Because...

“You fool. Golden fool.” closing his third eye, he muttered towards the constellation he could not avoid, however he tried. The Victorious. The Golden. The Army of Light. He himself had been among them. He had joined them in the middle of the Dagor Dagorath.

“Oh yes, what a moment!” Another voice commented, accompanied by a rustle of feathered wings. “What else to imprint into the starlight itself than this particular scene?”

Mairon did not even have to look. “Be quiet, Dove.”

“Have I disturbed you? I know you do admire both the view and remembrance.” Eonwë sighed.

Mairon closed his eyes. “What do you want?”

“That time of year is coming again. You know what my message is.”

“And you know what my answer is.” Mairon said in a tired tone, rubbing his eyes, although there was no need.

“As far as I know, it could have changed.” Well, Eonwë was persistent. Now even more than in the previous life.

“Please, go home.”

Another rustle of feathers. Eonwë came closer, stretched his wings, then folded them gracefully and sat down beside his former enemy.

“King Ingoldo would truly like to see you.”

“A fool's wish.” Mairon retorted, looking up again.

Silence settled between them – long like all the words that should have been said.

Mairon shifted in his position. “Let's imagine I come.” he said at last. “What will I do there? Try to stay out of sight? What good will that be?” Exactly. And what good are all these celebrations? As if there was nothing else to do.

“His little daughter wishes to see you, too.”

“I would only repeat myself.”

“Alright.” said Eonwë quietly, raising his eyes to the nightsky as well.

Finally, Mairon bowed his head. “I have something to send though. What do you think, will they let me be then?”

…

“Carefully.” Mairon commanded. He felt nervous. After all, this was the first time another Maia visited him in his new home, which was unsurprisingly a mountain cave again.

“Of course.” Eonwë replied as he held the gift – a telescope inlaid with gold. “Should I pass any words, too?” He asked and returned the item to Mairon so he could wrap it up.

As for the answer to the question, several statements ran through Mairon's mind at that moment, but none of them he voiced. None of them felt right.

But then, finally:

“I shall aid your eye

Just take me to a mountain high

I'll let you see into the distance, far

Never again shall you miss a star.”

Strange. When he finished, there was an unexpected tug at the corner of his mouth.

Eonwë noticed, too. “A smile?” he exclaimed. “Now you have to show up and display it yourself, or no one is going to believe me!”

“You talk too much, Dove. And you're seeing things.” Mairon dismissed the topic, trying to focus on packaging the gift properly.

“I know what I saw.” Eonwë was importunate. Who else would stretch their feathered wing to touch Mairon's face?

Of course, Mairon felt infuriated (or did he, really?). He shoved the tip of the white wing aside, lifted the package with the other hand and pushed it to Eonwë's hands.

“Here. Be gone!”

“As you wish.” the winged Maia tilted his head and then turned to the window. Mairon moved to see him out, but then he stopped abruptly when Eonwë, for whatever reason, chose to turn back. “And before I forget,” he said just by the way, “Olórin boasts he's unmatched when it comes to fireworks.”

“Ha!” Mairon laughed at first, perhaps even sounding intrigued, but then he just shrugged. “That was lame, though. What else do you have?”

Eonwë's smile was way too smug. “Sounds like someone doesn't want me to go.”

“No, no.” Mairon crossed his arms before him. He too could be smug enough. “I merely wait for the moment you say the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That it is you who wants me to come to the celebration.”

“I thought it was obvious.” Eonwë stated as a matter of fact, tucking the gift under his arm. To Mairon's dismay, the other Maia did not look dumbfounded at all, definitely not as much as he should.

“Well it's... It is. Obvious.” Mairon had to admit, slipping into somewhat defensive tone.

“So will you come or not?”

“I still have to decide. Now get out.”

The smug smile was back on Eonwë's lips. “You know you will miss me.”

“Out of here!” Mairon shouted, jumping after the other Maia. But even though his cheerful laughter still echoed throughout the chamber, Eonwë was gone already. Then the echoes faded away, and the merriment, too.

Mairon was on his own again.

Alone and lonely.

So this is how it feels, he thought.

[jengajives]

Partner suggested I write about the seduction of Sauron. What a great idea

When Mairon touched the chilly granite with the palm of his hand, it began to bubble. The yellow glare of molten earth sent a warmth through his body that rushed right back to his weathered hands, as he rose through the layers of stone and melted a channel for the boiling rock to follow, up towards the surface.

When he squirmed out into open air again, his body a breath of hot fume and dust, he made sure to draw back a fair distance before he raised an arm and called the bubbling liquid up after him.

Magma burst from the earth in a dazzling shower of molten orbs. It splashed down against the slopes he’d built for that exact purpose, and with a deep-rooted satisfaction he watched the softening red lava begin to flow lazily down the cone, cracking stone beneath its heat.

“It works,” he said faintly, wrapping himself in a form that could properly sit down and watch. “It actually works.”

As soon as he plopped down on the ground to get comfortable, a voice behind him made him fly back to his feet.

“Incredible.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Defiler standing there, but he was. Melkor was never supposed to be any concern of his. Why would he be? Mairon had nothing to offer, no power to give, and he loved the Valar too much to be of service anyway.

But Melkor stood there nonetheless, in the tall, pale form that always smiled, his gleaming eyes glued to the flowing rock.

A panic jolted Mairon, and he put his arms protectively in front of his work, letting the silver hammer materialize in his hand; it was the closest thing he had to a weapon in case Melkor tried anything.

“What are you doing here?” Mairon spat. Slowly, Melkor turned his eyes downward, and when they fell on Mairon his smile went funny- warmer, somehow, even though it felt more cold.

“Did you make that?” Melkor asked. His voice was as deep and tranquil as could be expected from one of the Valar, but there was an added silkiness to it that Mairon had never heard before. He deepened his frown.

“If you’re here to break it-“

“Break it?” Melkor swept a hand to his chest as if offended by the suggestion. “Why would I destroy something you labored long to build? Something so beautiful?”

Mairon scoffed. He still hadn’t lowered his hammer and didn’t mean to.

“That’s what you do. You break things.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Aulë’s mountains. Ulmo’s rivers. All Yavannah’s seedlings. You destroy them over and over!”

“Ah.” Melkor nodded in sudden understanding. “Yes. I see where you might have been confused. I’ve removed some of the Valar’s things, yes, when they cross into my domain. But you aren’t a Vala, are you?”

Warily, Mairon shook his head. Melkor clapped in delight.

“See, then. We’ll have no problems whatsoever. I only came to see this wonderful creation of yours. What do you call it?” He motioned past Mairon to the mountain of fire, and Mairon only frowned deeper. He did not step aside.

“It’s a volcano.”

“A volcano. How marvelous! Tell me, how does it work?”

Mairon looked at him with nothing but suspicion in his eyes, and turned his back.

“You need to leave.”

“Apologies, Mairon. I overstepped. I have no right to ask your master’s secrets.”

“Go away.”

“I’m really more interested in what it does. From here, it really doesn’t seem to have many uses besides an interesting show.”

“Of course it has uses!” Mairon spun again, offended now that Melkor would even suggest he was building things for spectacle alone. “It’s going to be very important someday!”

Melkor again gave that toothy smile and settled down on a stone, prim and stiff. “Do tell.”

Mairon narrowed his eyes. The stories he’d heard of Melkor’s deceptions ran wildly in his head, but above it all he heard him slimily suggesting it was an “interesting show.” It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Pretty Mairon, good for draping with fineries and shining in the firelight. Too delicate for proper smith work. Too beautiful to risk marring.

No, he wasn’t like Osse and the others. He loved the Valar. He was not weak. He was not a traitor.

“It can make new earth.” Mairon stepped slightly to the side so Melkor could see where the lava cooled and turned to black stone. “The soil it leaves behind is extremely fertile. It will grow things for Yavannah. And if I made one in the sea, it would build an island with beautiful new plants that the Children could discover and explore. They’ll use the heat for cooking or smithing, and the soil for growing wonderful crops. See, it makes things. It’s not just a show.”

Melkor straightened and took a step closer to the slopes; frost crackled from his feet and spread greedily outward. Mairon grabbed his arm.

“Stop!”

The skin was cool to the touch and smooth. He could feel muscle shifting underneath.

Slowly, Melkor looked down at him, apology in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re too cold.” Mairon pointed at the icy ground. “You’ll ruin it.”

“Ah. So sorry, Mairon. I was just thinking... It... Well, no, I shouldn’t...” He looked away, almost bashful. Mairon twitched suspiciously.

“What?”

“It just looks rather dangerous, don’t you think?”

“Dangerous?” Mairon repeated incredulously.

Melkor hastily went on. “I’m sure Aulë was aware of this when he designed it, but-“

Mairon bristled. “Aulë didn’t design it.”

“You mean...” Realization dawned slowly across Melkor’s face. “You created it. All by yourself?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Mairon huffed. “I’m not delicate, you know.”

“I never said anything of the sort!”

“And Aulë is going to like it. He’ll be proud.”

“Well, I...” Melkor bit back whatever he was going to say, then took a deep breath and tucked his hands together. “No, it’s not my place. I couldn’t come between you and Aulë like that. The bond between father and son is sacred, you know.”

“He’s not my father.” Mairon crossed his arms, impressed by the mighty Melkor’s stupidity. “Eru is.”

“Ah,” Melkor smiled sadly. “Of course. Is that what they’re saying now?”

Something within Mairon faltered. “I... What?”

“Mairon, I like you. I really do. So I’m going to have to be truthful.” Melkor knelt down and put a hand on Mairon’s shoulder. “The Valar aren’t going to like your volcano. They’ll destroy it.”

The confusion Mairon had been nursing shifted to something more urgent. He looked up and met the depths of Melkor’s frozen eyes. “What? Why?”

“It’s dangerous, Mairon. Will it not burn Yavannah’s things? Wither her seedlings and turn her great trees to ash?”

Mairon frowned. “Well, yes, but-“

“And will it not boil Ulmo’s seas, and divert his rivers?”

“Yes, it will, but it-“

“And it will burn the Children.”

Finally Mairon’s defense faltered. He stood silent for a moment, trying to understand, and then he shook his head.

“No, of course it won’t.”

Melkor’s face became a mask of pity. “They’ll come live on its slopes, as you said. They’ll build cities and grow crops and create great smithies. But what happens when the lava runs again?”

Mairon glanced at the smoking crater of his volcano and swallowed, some of the defensiveness bleeding from him, though he still tried.

“The earth will shake and smoke will rise. They can leave before it erupts.”

“Then they will leave, and it will destroy their homes, and their culture, and those too frail to flee it.”

“I-“ Mairon faltered again. “That’s not what I-“

“Don’t misunderstand me, Mairon, please. I think it’s a wonderful creation, and I think the Valar would be blessed by it. But I just don’t think they’ll see things the same way.”

The cool, velvet touch against his arm. Squeezing gently to reassure him it was there.

“They care more for the things the Children might make than for the creations their own little ones dedicate wholly to them. No matter how beautiful.”

Fingers sliding down to press gently to Mairon’s own.

“You’re very talented, Mairon. I truly hope they will see that. I know you made this for them. You’re a good son, and a loyal servant. But the Valar can be blind to loyalty.”

Mairon shuddered when Melkor pressed the ghost of a kiss to his cheek- refreshingly cool and familiar.

“Protect your creations, Mairon. They’re a part of you. Beauty like that deserves to endure.”

With a whisper of cold wind, Melkor was gone, and Mairon stood alone watching the molten earth bubble, and wondering how much of what the Deceiver said was true.

[child-of-hurin]

Could I also ask about 4 and 6?

-@outofangband

I actually love #4, it's fully finished but it's all in Portuguese! I had published it on FF.net at some point, the only thing I ever posted there haha. It happens like this: Sauron finds Míriel at the tallest balcony of whichever palace they're staying at; I was (still am!) unsure where Pharazôn's armada departs from, but they're in whatever city, because I imagine they'd be there to see the king off.

Anyway, Sauron finds her there, watching the ocean, where you can still see the rear of the armada in the distance. She's shaking and he delights in his triumph/ her torment, decides he wants to torment her a little more and see her crying face up close. Turns out she is laughing, though.

I mean to translate it but I have been second guessing my characterization of Sauron yk? Anyway, here's a quick, if awkward, translation of a passage I like:

Mairon knew madness as a doctor knows illness: from a respectable distance, manipulating and studying without ever contracting it. Utilitarian, familiar but not intimate. Seeing it like this, up close, out of his control and influence, in the face that had always seemed as if carved from stone, deeply unsettled him; he stepped back. He scolded himself immediately, but it was too late. His confusion quickly turned to anger. - So you find the spectacle of war amusing, madam? A haughty look met his, but Miriel still grinned. No, not Miriel! Zimraphel. Ar-Zimraphel. That's it: she looks at me like a queen looks at a servant.