#bird elrond

[thesummerestsolstice]

I have seen the headcanon that Elrond (+ the other Peredhel in Luthien's line) can turn into birds like Elwing. This is an amazing idea, but I don't think it gets used nearly to its full potential. Consider, Elrond in the Second Age is Gil-Galad's herald. A herald does a lot of things, including delivering the king's proclamations. You know, like a messenger. Like how humans have used messenger doves before. He's also sometimes called Gil-Galad's minstrel.

I raise you, Gil-Galad dictating his latest diplomatic letter to bird Elrond and then (lovingly) throwing him out of the window so he can fly over and deliver it. Ambassadors going to Gil-Galad's court and being very confused when a strange bird none of them can identify is introduced as the court minstrel. Also Gil-Galad being absolutely insufferable about how a "little bird told him" about all the latest diplomatic gossip. Elrond encourages all of this behavior. They're horrible enablers for each other.

[therealmairon]

this has me in tears yall 😭

[silmarillion-ways-to-die]

[southaway]

The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting

@imladrisweek : day two

No thoughts, just swans

[hannahspoonsart]

My piece for this year’s @officialtolkiensecretsanta ! Young Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir trying to sneak up on their father

[braxix]

Crow: Caw

Gil-Galad: Should we do something about that?

Galadriel: About what?

Gil-Galad: The spy.

Annatar: *Ah shit*

[tiffanyachings]

“We spoke a lot about his parentage. He’s sort of an orphan, and there are unhealed wounds that exist within him. Elrond is part-human, and his brother Elros, who chose to be human and eventually founded Númenor, were raised by their captor as children. I liked the showrunners’ ability to collaborate with that, because it became important to me that he’s an orphan and that he doesn’t belong here or there. I’d gained such passion for Eärendil and Elwing, Elrond’s parents, who appear in the Silmarillion, everything they’d achieved. It’s a lot to live up to for him!”

- Robert Aramayo on Elrond

[eleneressea]

Elrond trying to woo Gil-galad but Elrond was raised with just about every culture *but* Falathrim Sindar, so Elrond is rotating through Northern Sindar, Taur-im-Duinath Nandor, Valinorian Noldor, Belegost Dwarven, and various Edain customs trying to find courtship customs close enough to Gil-galad's that he'll recognize them.

Gil-galad is…not entirely sure what his herald is up to.

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

I’d love to hear your thoughts on what Eldritch peredhel entail

-@@outofangband

Sorry this took so long @outofangband and thank you for asking this I am! Delighted! And am preemptively putting a read more down because I cannot shut up about they <3

alright I'm just gonna put stuff and headcanons down as they occur to me so expect low-moderate levels of coherency

shapeshifting is an obvious one (gets weaker down the generations) but because my brain is Like This I have caveats!

thanks to my whole peredhil things=gender allegory that my brain spit out without my permission I've long struggled against my inherent feeling that while they can shapeshift they don't like it

but because I'm now aware of my brain's reasoning I can say it's because of ✨fantasy dysphoria✨

that's oversimplifying, obviously, but peredhil already have so much issues with working through who and what they are and compromising between body and mind and spirit that actively choosing to change into/present as something/someone who They Are Not is. Not usually their cup of tea.

As a whole they tend to have specific forms that they prefer as being closer to themselves, and distinct enough that it doesn't feel like they're faking something they're not

(changing to look like a different person, or a edited version of themself is Very Very not fun unless either explicitly for disguise or shenanigans)

(the exception to this is that Luthien can make herself look almost perfectly human without any real issue. she doesn't do it often but especially as she ages she likes to catch glimpses of her reflection and get both excited and sappy. this is in contrast to making herself look almost perfectly like an elf which makes her feel like her skin is on fire.)

(Also I'm pretty sure all of them can flip their agab presentation while only feeling varying degrees of off, and even then it's a different feeling than the shapeshifting dysphoria. Dior and Elwing are the two who I think mind it the most)

They all have the (agonizing to write) trait of feeling very distinct relationships to their species in their body vs soul/mind vs spirit/fea and they all feel it very differently! This isn't exclusive to Luthien's line but the maia blood does make it worse.

Oh! This is a new headcanon of mine actually but!

They all have faces that are very very hard to capture in image. They are the bane of portrait artists (and, to a degree, sculptors) everywhere because the art never looks accurate to life

It's not blatantly off it's just. missing something? Or something was added? maybe it's a little too wide, or narrow, or long, or short, in one place or another

It's not unrecognizable but if you've ever seen the subject in real life you can just tell

It's especially bad with Luthien (and Daeron) and Dior (to a lesser extent) because everyone literally sees them differently, as in their features will be slightly different depending on what each person finds attractive/aesthetically appealing and beautiful

(not a lot, again, it's not unrecognizable, but there has never and will never be any accurate depiction of Luthien as she was as a person)

(as a concept, though, as the most beautiful creature to have ever existed in Arda, a little of her image exists in every portrait lovingly made of a beloved spouse, every child's drawing of their family, in biological sketches of songbirds and field mice, in a sculpture of a stranger's face. Daeron remembers his sister perfectly, but he collects these regardless)

(Arwen, Luthien come again, isn't described as such by her grandparents. Galadriel and Celeborn both knew Luthien, and while Arwen and her father both look as closely to her as genetically possible, to those who actually know them both it's nothing more than uncanny family resemblance. Luthien was to most a concept personified, Arwen is a person with concepts imposed on her.)

The list of people who have seen Luthien how she actually, physically, defaultly is, essentially consists of Melian, Daeron, Beren, and Dior

Beren doesn't see her as she is right away because he doesn't know her right away, but they learn about each other and she shows herself and he sees her and by the time she rescues him from Tol-im-Gaurhoth there are no echoes on her face

(He's always a little bit haunted that he nearly died without realizing he'd never quite seen the truth of her before)

Neither Thingol or Beren can quite see their own features on their children's faces. They clearly take after their mothers, after all!

(This leads to much affectionate eye-rolling on Melian and Luthien's part)

Hair stuff!

It's alive! kinda! it's definitely not normal hair!

It moves a lot on its own. Sometimes like a breeze is blowing where there isn't one. Sometimes more like tentacles. It depends on its mood.

They've got some very pretty traditional cosmic horror vibes swirling around on their heads. It's very sparkly and colorful but in a Forbidden Shrimp Colors that your brain is unable to comprehend way so it reads as iridescent black mostly, or holographic white, where applicable

Luthien's hair actually is a glimpse into space, Daeron's is a glance at a star

(Luthien's magic hair cloak survives, I think, into the 4th age and beyond, though if anyone/anything has found it they certainly don't know the origins of the beautifully intricate living star map. It has seen the reign of countless north stars, yet the lines always point to the same coordinates- where the ancient, sunken, ruined remains of what once was Tol-im-Gaurhoth lay)

Speed round!

Fangs and talons and horns oh my! Are they tooth and keratin and bone, or are they petrified wood and gem and stone? Yes!

They all smell a little like ozone and a lot like petrichor, flowers, and Green. If you've smelled green you know what I'm talking about. Also, unfortunately, like bird. Birds don't smell great, especially wet bird.

Weird Foresight Powers++

(Most of them don't have actual foresight, but all of them are more in-tune with the Song than is natural for an incarnate)

Their eyes glow, most notably in the dark, unless the irises turn black as they sometimes do. They are also all unnaturally bright versions of the less-spooky parent's- Dior's are gold, Elwing's are blue-green like a tropical sea (Elured and Elurin split the color between them- ultramarine and emerald), Elrond and Elros have pale star-gold, Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen all have silver.

(Daeron and Luthien being the exception again, because I decided they have Melian's eyes before I decided this, and I don't know what color eyes Thingol has. Watsonianly: Melian's spooky genes overwrite a lot. Luthien's genotype is probably much closer to his than her magically overwritten phenotype)

Their sclerae turn black and their pupils white, on occasion, usually when using powers

They don't bleed right. It's a little too red for an elf, a little too light for a human, and it shines strange as it beads like quicksilver on the skin

They have very shiny, cool skin. Luthien looked like her's was silver plate under a stretched stocking, the rest toned it down from there but it's still noticeable.

The Song is. Attached to them. They are all very much Main Characters. Their lives have a clear story arc with symbolism and narrative parallels. They are all subconsciously aware that their lives are a fairytale, whether tragic or no, and yes this has many Implications and affects. They are not the only ones like this, but they are the only ones who, to some level, know they are in a story.

This is the fundamental separation between them and everyone else.

The difference in how they perceive themselves between heart soul and spirit is very difficult to explain and understand, but not impossible to someone who knows them and is willing to put in the work.

The life-long knowledge that they are Important to the Song and their every choice and event they experience and their mere existence serves a greater purpose in a way that most other people simply do not- that's very, very isolating.

No one else can understand how they see the world. Very very few people are willing to try, and even fewer in a way that's not frustrating. There is a reason most of them find only one person to latch on to outside of their family, and a reason they hold on through hell and high water.

(This is about being neurodivergent)

[deer-with-a-stick]

The more time I spend explaining Tolkien lore to my brother the more I realize that Tolkien was just batshit insane

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

🦉 For the bird ask game!

"Careful, Your Majesty," came a voice beside Gil-galad. "You are straying a bit too close to 'obvious' this evening. I advise you let your eyes linger elsewhere, if at least for an hour."

"I beg your pardon, Counsellor Erestor." Gil-galad straightened his back against the uncomfortable throne and willed his eyes to stay on the dance floor. "Where did you say my eyes were straying?"

"I do not know, Sire. Where were His Majesty’s eyes straying?" asked the counsellor. "You need not tell me, but wherever it was, I am only saying that you may want to look elsewhere."

"Duly noted. Thank you."

It took only a moment, a beat in the music and a turn in the dancing before them, before Erestor was speaking again.

"I mean he does look good tonight."

Against his better judgment, Gil-galad glanced to where the impertinent adviser told him not to look.

"He was telling me earlier about the journey. He reports that Númenor is thriving beyond expectations." He paused—for effect, Gil-galad was sure, because Erestor was nothing if not dramatic, however vehemently he denied it. “The fair weather also seems to have given him a good tan."

Gil-galad sighed. "Erestor, I thought you said not to look? That does not help."

"Consider it a test of will, Sire. It is good exercise from time to time."

The old king rolled his eyes. Some days he wondered why he kept this Elf at court.

"You do not think he is too young?" he found himself unwisely asking.

"I think too young is the least of your concerns." Erestor's voice, at least, was thankfully discreet. "He is your cousin, your charge, he cannot give you heirs, and worst, he has atrocious organisation skills and training him in this has thus far been a nightmare."

"Yes, that is indeed the worst of it all."

"But his heart is golden and pure,” continued Erestor, “and he thinks the best of everyone. It is admirable, if a bit naïve, but you can trust no other more."

“Not even you?”

“You think me trustworthy, Sire?”

“Ah. Good point.”

[thesummerestsolstice]

Building on my previous Bird Elrond post, all of Gil-Galad's cloaks have a little pocket on the inside for him to carry Birdrond around. Why does he do this?

I mean you never know when you'll need your herald to deliver something, might as well keep him on hand

Look the last time someone left Elrond alone for five minutes he got kidnapped so obviously someone has to keep an eye on him

Half-elves (even eldritch shapeshifter ones) need more sleep than elves and its warm and soft in there

Look pulling a bird (who is also one of the most important people in your kingdom) out of your cloak is, objectively, really funny and fucking with nobles is one of the only reason Gil-Galad hasn't abandoned the high kingship yet

Gil-Galad can leave his cloak places and Elrond can listen into conversations without being noticed– look, a little gossip and blackmail is absolutely necessary to control the Noldor

"Shit we need a minor blessing" *pulls out Birdrond* "would you do the honors?"

The pocket is right next to Gil-Galad's heart and the two of them are very normal about each other

It annoys Galadriel

[youareunbearable]

I always see these posts about Maedhros and Elwing, like yes both leap to their deaths clutching a Silmaril and I adore the foil allegories, but what of Maglor??

My tiktok feed has been playing that one fan Odysseus song, the "get in the water, or ill raise the tides so high all of Ithaca will die" song, and I cant help but just picture Maglor, at the ends of his rope, covered in Ambarussa's blood, the youngest son of Feanor again after spending an untold amount of time being the second oldest, just going still and deadly at Elwing

Hes no Luthien, no half Maia that can pluck at the threads of reality like one can a harp, but he is the best Singer of the Noldor, and depending on who you ask, of all of the First Born. One of the only Sons of Feanor with an affinity for water while the rest burn, but that doesn't mean he can't become a rolling boil.

Once the final breath of Ambarussa escapes their lungs, oh the Scream Maglor will have let go. Just as a drowning person will grasp at anything to keep them afloat, even to the point where they may drown their rescuer just to keep their head above the waves, Maglor’s scream PULLS

All the water surrounding this costal city would Lurch, would rush and flood and crash upon the city walls. The streets, already run red with blood, would become knee deep blood pools. These red rivers would part before him and his echoing dirge, his siren wailing, the bloody waves would lap at his feet with every step he would take up Elwing's tower.

He would corner her, eyes blazing with the same light that she clutches desperately to her chest, to her heart, and Maglor wouldn't care about the Jewel, he's already lost so much to it that if he held it himself he would just toss it into the waves anyways, let it sink to the black depths where it belongs.

No, Maglor would pin her on the balcony, block her exits so all she can see is the blood stained water seeping around his feet, inching towards her, and the furious roar and crash of the raging ocean behind. He would hum, a disarming little song, and the waves seem to surge upwards, reaching towards the tower balcony on beat. The spray of the waves would splatter across her back, would mist Maglor’s face, the salt of the ocean mixing with the salt of his tear stained face. He would look at her, dripping in water and blood, both of his brothers and his enemies, and he would sing one little line, a command more like.

"Get in the water"

[silmarillion-ways-to-die]

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Cheep.

Cheep who?

Cheep cheep.

Mom, just turn back into a half-elf please.

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

FInwe in the third age part ii

Over the next few days, the injured elf woke only briefly, saying confused phrases, or moaning in pain. Elrond considered whether it would promote peace in the valley if the only one present in the room who spoke no Quenya, so they could spread no rumors. But that would further distress the patient, and Elrond did not want him - whoever he was - to be upset, or to be tempted to go out and find answers. So there was always someone in the room who spoke Quenya, a nurse or a child of the Exile or a member of Elrond's family, with instructions to alert Elrond immediately if the patient was able to converse. (And to tell no one what they overheard, "for the sake of the stranger's privacy.")

It was nearly a week before Elrond was able to test his suspicions with anyway other than Glorfindel's sketches. Elladan had rushed to his study with the news that the patient was awake and impatient to know what was going on.

"Good afternoon, I'm glad to see you're feeling recovered. I am Elrond Peredhel, lord and chief healer of Rivendell."

"Yes, your son mentioned. I'm sorry, you seem familiar somehow but I can't think of any hall called Rivendell in Aman."

"I am not surprised you haven't, it's a long way from Tirion and we have not met before. I know you just survived a very stressful situation, but I have to ask you some questions to make sure you're oriented before I can explain."

"Even before you can tell me if anyone else survived the attack? The one in here earlier said it's been days, is there no word of my grandsons?" The patient began to push himself out of the bed as he said this.

Elrond pushed down on his shoulder, the weight too much for the injured elf to lift. (It's not treason to give your king medical care, and it's not like I ever pledged him my service. Elrond reminded himself. It feels like blasphemy, but when has that stopped me?) "Do NOT try to stand or sit! Your belly was torn open, and any further movement could tear it again. And as for your question, I could answer it better if I knew who you were."

"I'm Finwe! King of the Noldor and lord of Tirion - though currently Nolofinwe is ruling it. How do you not know that? Even the few Noldor I haven't spoken with should have seen me at festivals."

Elrond ignored the question. "It's good that you recall that. You were the only member of your family injured in the attack. Now, can you talk me through what you remember happening?"

Finwe sighed in relief. "That's good. I remember there was darkness. But deeper than I'd seen anywhere in Valinor, even in caves. Deeper even than a cloudy night in the forest beside Cuivienen. It was terrifying, and strange, and impossible. I told Maitimo to find his brothers and run, but something was coming. I stayed to fight it off, or at least buy time."

"That was very brave."

"What else could I have done? The attacker - surely you must know, your son didn't seem surprised when I told him to warn everyone - it was Melkor. The Dark Hunter has returned to his evil ways. He kept asking where Feanor was, and the Silmarils. I would not help him, but I have not fought since I hunted my meals underneath the stars. Melkor is a Vala, with all their might, and he overpowered me. The last thing I recall is seeing him walk away into the house. And then waking up here, among strangers."

Elrond nodded. "Thank you. Now, what I'm about to say will likely seem very shocking, but I must recommend as a healer that you do not make abrupt movements. Your body is still weak, far more so than your soul is accustomed to."

"What news could be that shocking, after being attacked in my home?"

"You are not in Valinor anymore, but instead are in Middle Earth. You can see for yourself out the window, that the stars are far clearer than they would be under the Trees."

"How did I get here? It must have taken months - did Melkor have me captive?"

"I have no more idea how you got here than you do; my people found you dying and half drowned on the banks of the river. You have been unconscious for nearly a week, and in that time we have seen no trace of anything that brought you here, nor any tracks leading from the site."

"But - if it's been a week, how has news reached you from Valinor? Even if Feanaro followed his plan to return to these lands, it would take months to sail."

"That is the second piece of shocking news, and the hopefully the last one of such magnitude. It has been over seven hundred years since Morgoth attacked Formenos, by the count in Valinor under the Trees. You were believed to be dead."

"That's impossible."

"And yet, it happened."

"Am I supposed to just take you at your word on this?"

"I do not give my word lightly, but I shall if you request it and will refrain from straining yourself trying to investigate shadows that aren't there."

"Do so, if you are not a servant of Melkor."

"I swear by Varda and by Ulmo that I have not lied to you, and that I wish for you to recover from your injuries. There is much I have not told you yet, as the tale of three Ages is long indeed, but I will tell you in time."

Finwe still lay there glaring at Elrond, but he made no move to get out his bed. "And how much time will it take before you tell me of my family?"

"There is little I can say for certain about how they are, as we do not have frequent news from Valinor. Artanis dwells on these shores, and rules Lothlorien with her husband. I married their daughter Celebrian, and so my sons and I are your family as well, but no one else is in Middle Earth."

"I am surprised Feanor did not come here, even after so long as you say it has been."

"He did, to avenge your death as much as to find a land where he could be free, but Melkor killed him as well."

"How convenient that all the people I would recognize are far away."

"No, it's not, as if you worry less you will heal faster. I suppose there is one. Do you know Glorfindel of - of the Golden Flower?" of Gondolin would mean nothing to Finwe.

"I think Turgon has a friend named that, have they started coming up with fancy titles when out on the town?"

"You could say that. He is the captain of Rivendell's guard, but could be spared from his duties long enough to speak with you."

"Fine, send him in."

[legendaryevokercupcake]

Oropher: Where the hell did we find this fuckin' kid, man?

Elrond: My mom threw herself off a cliff because she thought that my 'adoptive' fathers were after the rock she loved more than us and then you kinda just picked me up

Elrond: I remember that very vividly.

Gil-Galad: *Mildly horrified laughter*