#but then curufin shows up at nargothrond and they get back together

[fistfuloflightning]

“What is this?” Finrod examined the ring his wife had just slid onto his finger. His brows rose at the design. “…Snakes and flowers?” he asked. “Is this us?”

“What do you think? I’m not one for sentimentality. It’s just the symbol of your House.” Curufin’s flat voice was reassuring. She bent her head over his hand, fingers pointing out details as she explained. “—the eyes are those jewels Father gave you as a wedding gift you never knew what to do with, and the silver-mithril alloy for the base was—”

He watched her face as she spoke, more talkative than her wont, a rather delicate flush to her cheeks that most wouldn’t even notice. But he noticed. He always noticed.

Curufin stuttered to a halt when the ringed hand rose to cup her cheek. “Was this what you were working on for so long?” Finrod asked softly. “What you were acting so secretive about?”

Her lips pressed tight but her intense eyes belied the affection she had poured into this work of love.

“I will cherish it.” Finrod caught her chin and kissed her soundly. “It was a gift from you. Therefore, I will keep it with me always.”

[verecunda]

Leithian: An Incoherent Reaction Post (Act II)

Back by not at all popular demand, the second part of my LOL reaction post. A week after the fact, admittedly, because my brain has just been doing elevator music all week, but for the sake of completeness if nothing else, see below!

(Act I)

- I like how we have Lúthien rocking back and forth, unable to stay still. Big fan of how expressive she is in general. Given that’s she’s supposed to be objectively the Most Beautiful of the Children of Ilúvatar™, it would have been too easy to make her just this figure of porcelain perfection, which would be boring (and, I would argue, uncanonical).

- oh geez, not Daeron again. Give it up, mate, your princessa is very much in another castle.

- Day 8, and I’m still not over Celegorm and Curufin. I WILL NEVER BE OVER THIS. The chest bump!! The cheery wee wave Celegorm(?) gives her before they fuck off!! I’m still crying. X’D (If the Silmarillion is the history as written by the Noldor, this show must be the history as written by the Sindar. Or the people of Nargothrond. XD)

- Oh great. As if that wasn’t humiliating enough, she gets rescued by a furry. I KID, I KID. Huan is a certified Good Boy. <3

- That wee look Lúthien and Huan share before they run off, the way it’s timed to the music... it makes me giggle a lot. :)

- ...yeah, I think this must be just about the moment that Celebrimbor decided he was now an orphan. XD

Meanwhile, in the Pit of Despair...

- Finrod’s fight with the werewolf is awesome, and I really, really like how, although there is music, there’s no singing. As if his powers of song have been utterly depleted, and the only weapons left to him now are his bare hands. *___*

- er... Beren... you know you can step in here at any time, pal...

- Shit, the second half really is just filled with music designed to get the blood pumping, isn’t it? 8D

- “I look out of the window at your beauty.”    “No one’s allowed to be prettier than me in my own fortress!” >:(

- HUAN BEST BOY ❤️

- RIP Finrod, we hardly knew ye. :’( 

- Honestly, I reckon they could have done so much more with the Angband sequence. They should have made an absolute MEAL out of it. I’d especially have liked some interplay between Lúthien and Morgoth, let him get his creep on before she sends him to sleep. Let me share in the satisfaction of him being so utterly humiliated!

- A very lovely song, completely ruined by me going “SLEEEP!” à la MST3K every minute or so. XD

- Bet Melkor’s really regretting having those sycophantic backing singers installed right now...

- Back in Doriath, we see that Thingol has very obviously been sleeping on the couch recently.

- Beren like “Hey-hop! I’m back with a source of neverending dad jokes!” :D

- ps. please, please, someone, let this poor lad clean that blood off his face, it’s driving me daft. XD

- Anyway, I don’t care what the rest of fandom says, I love Thingol. The way he comes striding back on stage, having swapped his kingly robe for his form-fitting trousers o’ wolf-slaying, HEY-HOP-ping along with Beren... WE STAN.

- Speaking of stanning, I'm pretty sure I actually went “yesssss” aloud the first time I got to Melian’s song about the hunt. Like, damn, that is an INTRO. Also - sleeves. *___*

- h-hey... hop...? 😭

- Mandos has such a... swishy quality, I can’t describe it. Good for him.

- All my smart-arse remarks and crap jokes stop here, btw. I have nothing but feels.

- Possibly a result of me spending the best part of the week before last being emotional over the Athrabeth, but quite a few lines here put me in mind of Aegnor. “Even death will not spare me from the loss.” “What need have I of immortal Valinor/If Beren is not by my side?” Also “Even a day can be compared with immortality” has dim echoes of Andreth’s “For one year, one day, of the flame I would have given all...”

(You know, just in case you weren’t crying enough.)

- waaaaugh, her voice. Actual tears in my eyes.

- He’s baaaaaack!!! (I half-expected him to give the world’s softest “hey-hop” XD)

- First time I saw this, I thought they should have had another scene to follow the book, with them returning to Doriath, Lúthien healing the winter of Thingol’s grief, the bittersweetness of Melian’s realisation, before the two of them head off for their new life together, but the actual ending, still in Mandos, has grown on me. I rewatched it just there and realised I was on the verge of crying. What do you other LOL nuts think?

- Curtain call! I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS BAR. Carcharoth and Huan are both very good boys. <3 asdfhjl C&C did another chest-bump!! X’D I see you twirling there, Finrod! There is something absurdly charming about seeing Morgoth holding a bunch of flowers. Enjoy your flowers, big fella, you’ve had a rough day. <3

So, yeah, I’m absolutely in love with this wee show and everyone in it. 💖 Hopefully one day I’ll make it to a livestream so I can AAAAAAAA along with the rest of you!

[jengajives]

So I know canonically Barahir and Finrod probably never met again after the Bragollach but I just WANT THEM TO

(My personal hc for Barahir and Emeldir is that they’re Gay Besties and her sweetheart died years ago and he never found the man for him but they both really wanted a child so they had Beren and raised him together as friends, and all the people of Dorthonion totally knew what was up but played along anyway.)

Also excuse my Sindarin, i am awful at languages

“My lord.”

The voice seemed deafening in the chamber of Finrod- the quiet space he sulked in when all of Nargothrond’s riches seemed empty and lifeless to him. When the company of his brother, his niece, and all his people just wasn’t enough.

He turned from his tapestry slowly, almost unwilling. If Celegorm and Curufin wanted another counsel, he had run out of excuses to deny them. All he wanted to do was stand around looking at the tapestry of Tirion he kept on the wall to substitute for a proper window.

“What is it?” he asked tiredly, unable even to muster the energy for a proper hello. The attendant bowed anyway.

“It’s the border wardens, your Highness. They’ve apprehended a trespasser on the eastern marches- a Man. He carries your ring, sir. He’s requested an audience.”

It seemed as if everything went utterly still and for several long moments Finrod could not speak.

He had to rub his eyes to ensure he was awake and hearing correctly. This wasn’t just the dream that had haunted him more years now than he could count.

“By all means,” Finrod said in a strangled voice, “bring him before me.”

It isn’t. It can’t be. He’s dead.

The attendant bowed again, all low and respectful. “I’ll let you know as soon as they reach the city, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” Finrod wasn’t paying attention properly anymore; he was suddenly very worried about what he was wearing, how he looked. The way he dressed around Nargothrond was very different than his war attire, and it was very concerning when he worried whether Barahir would even be able to recognize him.

No, no. Barahir was dead five winters now. It didn’t matter whether he looked familiar or not, he was dead.

Still, though. There was a chance.

Finrod threw open his wardrobe with something akin to panic.

The woods of Dorthonion were dense and dark, with occasional beams of golden sunlight filtering through the high pine trees and turning the bed of needles to luminous white. There wasn’t too much undergrowth, which made it easy to ride through, and Finrod did so with as much speed as his mare could manage, flying over falling trees and secret glens that few among the Elves had ever looked on, thundering across rushing mountain creeks with all the speed of the Valar. He held his arms out to the wind and let his golden braids flow loose behind him.

When he at last came to the little green valley he’d been directed to, he slowed his mare to a stop and stood there a moment on the ridge. The people of Bëor lived in small homesteads spotted over the highlands, and here a number of them gathered together alongside a cool, fresh creek to graze their animals on its fair grasses. The largest of the wooden homes was nestled just beneath the rolling, forested hills, sheltered by the river’s curve and somewhat apart from the others. It was here Finrod rode, galloping eagerly across the meadows of the basin.

A handful of sturdy horses grazed on the green pasture in front of the house, along with a pair of cows and one freshly-sheared sheep. Finrod rode along the tree-lined lane until he came to the house itself.

It was single-storied, made of finely hewn logs painted with red and gold, and a thatched ceiling that looked freshly lain. On one side stood a small barn for the animals, and on the other a woodshed that had seen better days. Finrod dismounted took a moment to take it all in. A warm smile crossed his face.

At once, the worn blue door opened, and a Man came hurrying out. He was dressed in simple work trousers and a maroon shirt that wasn’t tied all the way and showed off the warm brown hair of his chest, but he was hastily throwing a fur coat over the top of it all as he stumbled down his stairs.

“King Felagund!” he choked, obviously out of breath. Finrod noticed a gleam of gold on his middle finger. “We- I- This is most unexpected!”

“I must apologize for the intrusion, Barahir,” he said with pity. “I was riding back from Hithlum and I became… sidetracked.” Then he smiled again. “I hope it’s not too much trouble?”

“Trouble!” Barahir shook his head a little too energetically. “No trouble at all! It’s just… “ He motioned helplessly to the house behind him. “t’s not much. Certainly nothing like a prince like yourself would-“

“Barahir,” Finrod said, bold enough now to take the Man’s hand in his own. “Your home is beautiful.”

Barahir visibly relaxed. His face went soft.

“It is… very good to see you again, Your Majesty.”

“To you, it’s Finrod.” He gave the hand a squeeze. “You have more than earned that right.”

Barahir’s tawny cheeks went red.

Finrod thought he would have kissed him then, if it had been for the little voice that interrupted them.

“Papa!”

Immediately Finrod straightened up and looked over Barahir’s shoulder to the doorway.

A small, brown face peeked out from inside. Just a beam of light caught on dark curls and turned them shining auburn.

Finrod’s expression went slack for only a moment before the corners of his mouth began to peak upward.

“Who’s this?” he asked eagerly. The child stuck his head out further to show two gleaming dark eyes.

“Are you one of the Valar?” he called, somewhat shyly.

Finrod smiled.

“No, child. Why do you think so?”

The little one gave a sheepish shrug. “You’re glowing.”

“Am I?” Finrod looked down. His tunic was indeed embroidered with gold and there were jewels in his hair. The thought of this innocent child mistaking him for a Vala was a very fond one, though.

“Beren,” Barahir called. “This is King Felagund. He’s a very powerful and noble Elf. Come over here and give a him a nice bow.”

Beren slowly moved onto the steps and made his way over, still cautious. He was wearing a green shirt that was too big for him and clutched a stuffed hound in one hand. Immediately Finrod saw the likeness with Barahir; other than the boy’s darker shade of hair, the two were nearly identical.

Finrod glanced at Barahir as the child approached.

“Yours?”

“Yes, he is.”

When Beren reached his father’s side, he shut his eyes tight and performed a bow so deep he nearly toppled. “At your service, King Felagund, sir!”

Finrod laughed and dropped to one knee so he could look the boy in the eyes. “An honor, Beren, prince of Dorthonion. I could not ask for more steadfast a Man!”

Beren cracked one eye, then the other. He gave a cursory glance to his father, then pointed at the great palomino mare waiting patiently on the lane.

“What’s your horse’s name?”

Barahir clicked his tongue. “Beren, be polite.” Finrod chose to ignore him.

“She is Glânhen, Brighteyes,” he said to Beren, as if he were sharing a secret. “She very much likes to eat. I think she might let you ride her if you find space for her in your pasture.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I can do that, sir!” He squinted up at the horse. “Where’s her bridle?”

“She’ll follow you,” Finrod said. He told the horse something in Quenya and she nickered, and then he straightened to let the bouncing little boy hurry past, motioning to the mare eagerly.

“Follow me, Glânhen! I’ll find you the best grass we’ve got!”

The pair of them trotted off together- the massive steed of Valinor, and the little woodsman’s boy leading her like an obedient pup. Finrod got distracted a moment just smiling at the sight, until Barahir chuckled behind him.

“Well, I… I didn’t know you were fond of children.�� He paused, obviously bashful, before he slipped out the name like he thought it might bite him. “Finrod.”

“Very fond. He’s a wonderful boy, Barahir. How old?”

“Five this spring.”

“My.” A wistful smile crossed Finrod’s face. “You must be very proud.”

“I am.” A silence passed, but it was broken when Barahir reached out and took his hand. “Will you come in?”

Finrod turned and the joy he felt looking at that gentle face was unlike anything he’d felt for countless years.

“I would love to.”

Felagund paced his throne room, back and forth, an anxious rhythm like the thudding of his own heartbeat. The tapestries and jewels felt suddenly profane. Would Barahir know him here? Surrounded by wealth and finery and all the glory of the princes of the Noldor?

Of course he would. Barahir would know him anywhere.

But it wasn’t going to be Barahir who walked through his doors. Dead five years at least, cut down in the highlands of Dorthonion all alone and friendless.

Finrod’s fault. He had tried to send help, tried to send forces through to reinforce the outlaws or bring them back, but no one had been able to brave the Haunted Wood. No one could get through. And Barahir had died alone in the mud, because Finrod’s strength had failed.

No. It could be him. He could have escaped. None of the Eldar were there to see him fall. It could be a mistake.

The golden doors swung open.

Finrod turned, suddenly frozen, as a company of his march wardens stepped inside with a Man held between them like some lesser prisoner. He was so thoroughly surrounded that Finrod couldn’t get a good look at him.

“Leave him,” he called, irritation wearing his voice thin. “He is no trespasser here if what I am told is true.”

The wardens bowed, and moved aside, and there in the center of the room stood Barahir son of Bregor with the cares of many lifetimes etched across his face.

The air left Felagund’s lungs.

He looked just as he had the very last time they had seen each other.

Tears blurred his vision, and when he wiped them away, he saw through new eyes, and the Man he saw was not the one he had dreamed of.

The curls were too dark. The build too tall. The face alike in almost every way, but there was something there now that made it painfully obvious Felagund had been mistaken. He deflated at once and collapsed back into his throne, face in his hands, floundering just a moment in defeat.

“King Felagund, sir,” called the Man. “I thank you for your hospitality. I wouldn’t have come if there was any other way, but I need-“ Abruptly, the trembling voice broke on a sob and trailed into tearfulness. “I- I need your help. Please.”

Finrod looked up again and his eyes softened, recognizing the sensitivity behind those eyes. He rose and stepped slowly down until he stood before the Man with pity in his heart and tears running down his face.

He put a hand on the rough-clothed shoulder.

“Beren,” he said softly, as fervent as he could manage. “I will do anything within my power to help you, no matter the cost.”

When Beren at last looked up to meet his eye, it was the same face of the shy woodsman’s son he had met all those years ago, and Finrod decided then that he would go gladly to his death if it would bring Barahir’s son to the fulfillment of his errand.

[absynthe--minded]

If Supernatural Can Get Fifteen Seasons, The Silmarillion Can Get Fifteen Seasons: An Overview

I’m going to be going into much more detail in individual season-specific posts, but for the moment, here is the extremely condensed look at what each of these seasons would entail plotwise. I’ve included a cut for length; I hope this translates to mobile well. I’ve followed chronology more or less as closely as I can, adding additional time in places where I thought it made sense or moving events closer together for thematic resonance, and I’ve included Russingon because I’m me and of course I did.

The idea is that this is a 2D animated series rated TV-MA (comparable to R for feature films in the US, or any of HBO’s shows) with fifteen seasons, 26 hourlong episodes each.

Season 1: Valinor, and the unrest between the houses of the Noldor, interwoven with stories about the beginning of the universe/the Great Journey from Cuiviénen/etc. Establishes our core Valinorean cast, and hints at Thingol being a presence later. Main storyline involves Finwëan Family Drama, with bonus Melkor Fucking Shit Up. We meet Maglor's secret wife Aeriel, Curufin's known wife Annamírë + his son Celebrimbor, and become aware of Fingon and Maedhros's love affair. The Sword Incident and Fëanor's banishment to Formenos are featured. The audience knows Melkor is plotting something but doesn't know what. Series finale is the Darkening of Valinor - like, the last thing the audience sees before the series ends is the elves' festival in Tirion and then everything goes dark. Roll credits.

Season 2: Cold open on Maedhros and Maglor and Celegorm finding Finwë's body + realizing the Silmarils are gone. Flashback to Melkor's plans, and we see the Darkening from his perspective. He flees across the ocean and Ungoliant vanishes. Cover the drama between Fingolfin and Fëanor over the crown, Lalwen and Findis and Finarfin rallying around their brother, etc. Maedhros and Fingon marry. Fëanor convinces nearly all of of his loyalists to leave specifically to avenge his personal losses, Fingolfin has a larger amount of people who want to go East to fight Morgoth. Set up a conflict between Fingolfin and Fëanor here - Fingolfin does actually want to defend the elves still living in Arda proper and the soon-to-come Men from Morgoth's influence, while Fëanor is raving about how I Will Not Be Replaced. (This is not strictly canonical, but it is a good contrast of their leadership styles, and it widens the gap between them/adds another reason why Fëanor would perceive Fingolfin as a threat.) Kinslaying at Alqualondë, Finarfin and his people noping out, Fëanor seeming to forgive/make nice with Fingolfin after his people joined in the fight for the ships. He offers to sail East first, with the justification that if there is danger there he'll be the first to encounter it. Maedhros is reluctantly parted from Fingon. Maglor reveals to Amrod that he was married, and his wife died in the battle. They arrive at Losgar, empty out the boats, and make camp for the night. Amrod goes back onboard the ship to sleep. Maedhros wakes up early, finds his father awake, and asks if he can take the boats back West to pick up Fingon et al. Fëanor loses his shit and starts rousing everyone for the shipburning. Maedhros asks him not to, and reveals his marriage, and Fëanor's response is to throw the first torch. Amrod dies, and none of his brothers can get to him. Fingolfin's host sees the flames from across the ocean, and turn towards the north and the Ice. End season.

Season 3: The host moves inland to Mithrim and begins to set up camp. They've met some Sindar by now, and they carry word back to Doriath that Finwë's son and grandchildren have come back to Arda. Thingol tells Lúthien, who is just past her majority into adulthood, a part of his life story that she hasn't heard yet: that Finwë was his best friend, and that he'd been on his way to see Finwë when he was sidetracked by Melian. He decides to let Fëanor and his host stay in Mithrim in memory of that friendship. Dagor-nin-Giliath happens, Fëanor dies at the end of the second episode. Episode 3 deals with Maedhros being hastily crowned, and receiving word from Morgoth that he'll parlay for a Silmaril, and him riding out despite his brothers' suspicions. He's taken captive, end episode. Episode 4 is after a 58-solar-year timeskip, revealing the fate of Fingolfin's host on the Ice. We open on a dream of Elenwë drowning by Turgon; he wakes to reassure himself that Idril is all right and then everyone continues on. The whole episode is taken up by the Ice and the Battle of the Lammoth, ending with Argon's death and the rising of the Sun. Next episode starts with the elves but cuts over to humanity, newly awakened in Hildórien - this is a hint of what’s to come. Fingolfin's host challenges Morgoth and goes unanswered, and then return to Mithrim and settle on the opposite side of the lake from the Fëanorians, who are doing SUBSTANTIALLY better bc they stole a lot from their fellow Noldor and they also don't treat the land they're living on like Thingol's, vs Fingolfin who refuses to do anything except the bare minimum his people need to survive until they get Permission. Basically the rest of this season is some of the events of Blessed Hands, with Maedhros's rescue and recovery and ensuing family drama. Five solar years pass, and the season ends with him and Fingon riding up to the outskirts of the Fëanorian encampment.

Season 4: Season opens with Maedhros being reunited with his brothers and opening formal negotiations for an apology to Fingolfin. Thingol opens formal negotiations with Maedhros and Fingolfin, but neither one reveal to him why they've come to Beleriand/the circumstances surrounding their departure. Fingolfin wants to speak to Thingol personally, and Maedhros defers to him. Permission is granted for the Noldor to settle in the north of Beleriand. A council meeting is held to settle the matter of the High Kingship; Fingolfin is elected and Maedhros votes for him, angering his brothers. He offers to take up residence in the northeastern mountains near Angband, and Fingolfin grants him and his House lordship of that region. The Fëanorian host begins to depart, but postpones their journey for the Mereth Aderthad. Beleg, Daeron, Mablung, and a few other Sindarin elves attend the feast. Orodreth meets his future wife. Last half of the season covers 40 years - Turgon and Finrod have their visions, the Noldor begin to construct multiple settlements, and attack Morgoth with renewed strength. Season ends with the triumph of the Dagor Aglareb and the departure of Turgon from Nevrast with his host.

Season 5: Season opens in Doriath, with Galadriel having taken up residence there. Brief summation of the beginning of the Siege of Angband. Angrod pisses off Thingol and causes the Ban on Quenya, and news of this is carried to Himring, Nargothrond, and Gondolin, giving us a sense of their status/construction. Caranthir meets the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains and strikes up a friendship/partnership with them. Fingon visits Himring once it's finished. Gondolin and Nargothrond are completed. Orcs attack Hithlum by coming up the Lammoth but are turned back. Maedhros, Caranthir, Maglor, and Celegorm go to Barad Eithel for the bicentennial of the Mereth Aderthad. Tension here is primarily political/slice-of-life - it's peaceful, even if it's a watchful peace, and it seems like Morgoth is pretty effectively held at bay. The only exception is Aredhel, who grows dissatisfied with Gondolin and finally leaves after a massive fight with Turgon about everything from his family loyalty to his politics to his taste in clothing. Young Glaurung is turned back easily by Fingon and a few other soldiers. Season ends with Finrod getting separated from the sons of Fëanor while on a hunt and encountering Men in the woods, changing everything.

Season 6: Speedrun Part Two! This is the Season of Men and Politics, covering 145 years. We see the Edain choose to integrate into Noldorin society, with all the lumps and bumps this causes, and how they respond to the elves around them. Bëor, Marach, Haldad, Haleth, Haldar, Malach, Zimrahin, Hador, Adanel, Bereg, Amlach, and Andreth all become important characters. The Green-elves can't stand Men bc they're insufferable vegans, the Sindar are isolationist and suspicious save for a few of their Marchwardens/soldiers, and the Noldor are eager to make new friends. Focus is given to the tensions between the different Edainic groups and philosophies, and how different Houses and clans interact with elves and dwarves. There's not a lot of certainty that the decision to stay was the right one, and different voices have different opinions. All this tension culminates in two things: the council meeting that ends with Bereg leaving Beleriand along with a thousand followers, and the Haladin being trapped behind the Gelion-Ascar Stockade and saved by Caranthir and his forces before going to Brethil. The resolution of this season-long arc is the Edain essentially deciding that if they're going to stay, they'll stay on their own terms, and each House decides what that means. Andreth and Aegnor meet and fall in love. The Athrabeth gets an entire episode. Elvish character drama that isn't about interacting with Men is kept to a minimum except for Aredhel's arc - this is the season where she loses her guards, gets stuck in Nan Elmoth, and encounters Eöl. He's dark and creepy and mysterious and she's at once afraid of him and kind of enamored by his difference from everything she's known, but he quickly turns awful. Huor, Morwen, Rían, Emeldir, Barahir, and Húrin are introduced. Maeglin is born, and grows up, and he and Aredhel escape Nan Elmoth and make a run for Gondolin with Eöl following. The Bragollach and Aredhel's death make up the season finale.

Season 7: Season opens with Fingon's coronation, Maedhros crashing said coronation, baby Gil-galad being sent to Fingon to be his ward and then sent away to Círdan on the coast, and the revelation that Sauron has taken Tol Sirion and Dorthonion has fallen. Flashbacks to various parts of the Bragollach: Celegorm, Curufin, and Celebrimbor saving Orodreth from Sauron's forces and fleeing to Nargothrond/Emeldir fleeing over the mountains to Brethil with the Bëorian civilians while Barahir and Beren and what's left of the fighters remain/Huor and Húrin being taken to Gondolin. Maedhros begins plans for Revenge, Fingon starts leveling austerity measures against the nobility to finance refugee relief, Gondolin mourns Aredhel and doesn't know what to do with Maeglin, and Nargothrond adjusts to having C&C around. Barahir tells Beren about Finrod's oath to always help their family. Sauron tricks Gorlim and slaughters everyone but Beren, who tries and fails to defend Dorthonion and finally flees south and gets lost in the woods of Neldoreth. He meets Lúthien, falls in love with her, and runs afoul of Thingol, who decides to use him to cause infighting in Finwë's descendants. Quest for the Silmaril, with all that entails, meanwhile Fingon struggles with High Kingship and Maedhros makes alliances with the Easterlings and the Dwarves of Belegost. Plenty of time is given to Beren and Lúthien and the Hunt for Carcharoth, with the season finale being their marriage after they return to life.

Season 8: Season opens with Huor and Húrin leaving Gondolin and returning home just in time for battle plans to really start ramping up. If everyone's attacking Angband, no one's attacking Doriath, and if Morgoth is defeated, maybe two Silmarils are really all we need, or so we hope. This is an entire season dedicated to loose ends - Thingol's refusal to join the Union, Orodreth assuming lordship of Nargothrond, Gondolin drama, etc. Morwen and Húrin marry and have Túrin and Urwen. Huor and Rían court and fall in love and marry, and Rían gets pregnant. Beren and Lúthien sneak away from Ossiriand with an infant Dior to visit Beren's family and are present for the wedding. There are little skirmishes, and some suspicions of treachery among the Easterlings that get shut down both by Bór's steadfastness and Fingon insisting that everyone's allied here and due complete respect. A plague hits Estolad, with Urwen dying, and Húrin trying to convince Morwen to send Túrin to Doriath since he's now blood kindred to the King. Morwen refuses, and discovers she's pregnant again as Húrin marches off to war. The Nirnaeth is a three-part season finale, with Tuor's birth juxtaposed against Huor's death.

Season 9: The Children of Húrin/Fall of Gondolin Extravaganza, Part One. Túrin is sent away to Doriath, grows up there, spends time on the marches, falls in love with Beleg and marries him in elvish fashion, and then finally snaps because he can't deal with Menegroth's racist bullshit anymore. Tuor, raised by elves, is finally captured and enslaved. Saeros dies. Túrin leaves Doriath to become an outlaw. Tuor survives as a thrall for years. Morwen and Nienor flee to Doriath, Gwindor escapes Angband and makes his way south towards Nargothrond, Beleg is killed by Túrin, and Tuor finally escapes thralldom. Tuor arrives at Nevrast and Túrin arrives at Nargothrond in the same episode. Ulmo appears to Tuor, and Túrin discovers from Gwindor that Húrin and his entire line have been cursed by Morgoth. Contrast Túrin's desire for action now with Tuor's somewhat careless wandering. Tuor meets Voronwë and they make for Gondolin. Glaurung attacks Nargothrond, and it falls. Túrin escapes into the wilderness and crosses paths with his cousin. Nienor loses her memory and is found by the men of Brethil in the same episode that Tuor comes to Gondolin. End season.

Season 10: CoH/TFOG, Part Two. Túrin goes home and finds his mother and sister gone and makes a mess of things but manages to escape. Tuor tries to tell Turgon to leave and can't convince him, and decides to remain in Gondolin. Tuor and Idril/Túrin and Nienor/Dior and Nimloth meet and fall in love, with this arc culminating in them all marrying in the same episode with the last scene cutting between the three ceremonies. Glaurung returns. Túrin kills him, Nienor gets her memory back, they die. Eluréd and Elurín born. Wanderings of Húrin, including the curse on Gondolin for not letting him in. The Nauglamir comes to Doriath, and with it the first echoes of doom. Season ends with Húrin and Morwen reuniting and their deaths.

Season 11: TFOG Part Three. Thingol gets nerfed by dwarves. Mablung dies. Battle of the Thousand Caves, Battle of Sarn Gebir, where Beren takes the Silmaril back from the dwarves and sends it to Doriath again. Melian departs for Valinor. Dior crowned King of Doriath. Elwing born. The Fëanorians attack Doriath in the Second Kinslaying but Elwing escapes with the Silmaril and makes it to the Havens of Sirion. Maeglin caught by Morgoth and tortured. Maedhros learns Elwing has the Silmaril but forswears the Oath. The actual Fall of Gondolin is a six-part season finale.

Season 12: Season opens with Maedhros futilely sending letters to Elwing pleading for her to relinquish the Silmaril. She refuses, being in her mid-teens now. Most of this season, the Fëanorians are a distant threat; the majority of the story is Eärendil and Elwing falling in love and assuming leadership of the Havens. Gil-galad becomes High King of the Noldor. Círdan starts advocating for asking for help from the West. Celebrimbor escaped Nargothrond's fall and is living as a civilian in Sirion. Idril and Tuor sail for Valinor, their fates unknown. Years pass. Eärendil and Elwing marry, and Eärendil resolves to try to go for help once more. An absolutely kickass ship gets built. Elrond and Elros are born. Eärendil sails West. The Fëanorians are unable to stave off the Oath any longer and attack the Havens, destroying everything. Elwing, convinced her sons are already murdered and having flashbacks to the disappearance of her brothers, jumps from the cliff with the Silmaril and flies for Eärendil's ship. Elrond and Elros are 'adopted' by Maedhros and Maglor. Season ends with a new star appearing in the sky, and Maedhros and Maglor recognizing it as a Silmaril and wondering what that means.

Season 13: Season opens with Gil-galad and Círdan and what Mannish and Dwarvish refugees they've encountered beginning to consider trying to fight back against Morgoth again, as he's been attacking their last remaining refuges. It's been seven years since Sirion was sacked, and no one's seen Elrond and Elros since their disappearance. A pair of twenty-year-old-by-human-standards twins who look neither elven nor human show up on Gil-galad's doorstep, and Círdan recognizes them as the missing boys. They won't talk about their childhood at all, but they say they're here to help in whatever way they can. Hostilities escalate quickly. Halfway through the season the Vanyar and several reembodied Noldor and Teleri arrive in Beleriand, led by Ingwion and Eönwë and Finarfin. The War of Wrath begins.

Season 14: Just. An entire season of the War of Wrath. It's decades of war there's a lot of shit to do here. The biggest thing is that Elros meets Men for the first time and feels like he's come home, starting at the bottom of their ranks and rising through them meritocracy-style. He meets a woman named Elwen who's essentially a pirate and falls in love with her.

Season 15: The first half of the season is the last bit of the WoW, ending with Eärendil killing Ancalagon and breaking open Thangorodrim. Sauron escapes, Morgoth is cast into the Void. Elrond and Elros make their Choice. Celebrían is born, with her naming witnessed by all the reembodied Arafinwëans. The elves who wish to return to Valinor do so, with some - Gil-galad and Galadriel and Celebrimbor, namely - electing to stay. The Valar reward the Men involved in the war with Númenor, though not all of them choose to go. Those that do elect Elros as their King after the Valar have departed. Loose ends are tied up, the beginnings of Middle-Earth are established, and the series ends on a shot of the setting sun from the point of view of Elros's palace.

More specific examinations of each season are coming. But this is a basic idea of what I’m looking for, this would be my Ultimate Dream Adaptation. I could probably cut it down to eight seasons? Probably. But then I’d lose that precious pacing.

[fuckingfinwions]

Ooh gil Gilad origin

Gil-Galad is not anyone important. His mom is a Noldo who grew up near Formenos, dad is a Nando. They have a farm near Himlad.

One day, Gil-Galad comes in from doing farm chores to find they have a guest. It’s Lord Curufin.

(I’m not going into what fashions would actually be common, but here’s a modern equivalent: Fifteen year old Gil-Galad is sweaty, wearing blue jean overalls with no shirt. Basically-the-president is sitting at the dining room table in a perfectly pressed suit with a briefcase in front of him.)

Curufin says, “You had very high scores on your exams. I’m going to interview you to be my son’s private companion.”

Gil-Galad answers questions about how many languages he speaks, how strong he is, if he’s had other sexual partners, if he knows how to dance, etc. Curufin doesn’t ask Gil-Galad to strip or do anything indecent, because it would be awkward for Celebrimbor to have a lover who has been intimate with his father. Curufin does ask Gil-Galad to recite tongue twisters and do a backbend, so he can see that Gil-Galad has good muscle control.

When he’s done asking questions, Curufin leaves. He has more candidates to interview!

A couple weeks later there’s formal letter delivered to their door. Gil-Galad has been selected to be Prince Celebrimbor’s private companion, and so join the royal household. He should arrive at the castle in the Pass of Aglon no later than X date, and Curufin will send a someone to help on the farm before the harvest needs to be brought in.

This is a fantastic honor, and also a duty. Under the Noldor feudalism-ish, Curufin has just as much right to call on Gil-Galad for this as to call soldiers for a war. It really doesn’t cross anyone’s mind for Gil-Galad to refuse.

So Gil-Galad shows up. Makeover montage, fancy clothes, etc.

On Celebrimbor’s Sweet-Sixteen-equivalent, Gil-Galad is waiting (fully dressed in easy to remove clothing) in Celebrimbor’s bedroom after the party. Celebrimbor knew he would get someone as his private companion, but Gil-Galad is even prettier than he’d hoped.

Gil-Galad: “Hello, I’m Gil-Galad. Lord Curufin selected me to be your private companion.” He memorized that phrase and has been practicing it in his head for the last hour.

Celebrimbor: “You’re beautiful. Can I kiss you?”

Gil-Galad finds this reassuring that Celebrimbor thinks of him as a person who can have preferences and boundaries, and also is relieved that Celebrimbor isn’t asking him to do anything he doesn’t know how to do. He says, “Of course.”

That first night is kind of awkward, but very enjoyable. Celebrimbor is a very tactile person, and his hands explore every inch of Gil-Galad’s body. Gil-Galad jerks Celebrimbor off, and then Celebrimbor wants to see what he looks like when he comes in return.

(Celebrimbor also got a book of sexual advice/positions as a birthday gift, which will be helpful. Gil-Galad has kissed people before and exchanged handjobs, Celebrimbor has not.)

Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor become friends. Celebrimbor has lessons on politics and such, and Gil-Galad attends as well. It’s not much more work for the tutor to teach two teenagers instead of one, and Gil-Galad doesn’t have anything else he has to do.

Gil-Galad notices that he’s gradually getting less fit as he’s not working on a farm all day. Celebrimbor asks him if he’d rather work in the forge or train with a weapon, as ways of staying in shape. Gil-Glad chooses the latter, and when Lord Curufinwe’s only son wants someone trained, you can bet he gets the best weapons master available. Sometimes Lord Celegorm even spars with him, as they both favor spears

There’s a period of happy times. The have sex (Gil-Galad always submitting of course), and discuss Celebrimbor’s latest projects and news from across Beleriand, and go out to bars together. They’re basically friends with benefits. Gil-Galad would be shamed forever for breaking his word if he left, but he doesn’t want to so it’s okay.

When the Dagor Bragollach happens, a lot of people die. Gil-Galad’s family farm is destroyed by Glaurung, with his parents on it. Celebrimbor’s mom dies defending the pass. They head south to Nargothrond and safety.

Finrod treats Gil-Galad more like Celebrimbor’s friend from another noble house than like a servant Celebrimbor is friendly with. This means Gil-Galad is invited to the formal dinners and such, rather than attending the dancing later but staying away during important talks so he doesn’t distract Celebrimbor.

The Quest for the Silmaril happens.

Celebrimbor denounces his father and uncle. Celebrimbor is in a glum mood all day, but Gil-Galad doesn’t push because the cause is rather obvious.

That evening, Celebrimbor says what’s on his mind. “Since I disowned my father, I’m not a prince anymore.”

“Yes, that’s so.”

“So you don’t have to stay. It’s not desertion to leave anymore, and a random blacksmith doesn’t need a private companion.”

“I hadn’t thought of that side of it.”

“Why not? It’s the part of this mess with the biggest impact on you! You weren’t close with my - Curufin and Celegorm, or with Finrod. Orodreth will run the city much the same as Finrod did, and all your friends are still here. The only thing that’s different for you from yesterday is that there’s no consequence if you walk out the door and never come back.”

“You’d be sad, and I’d miss you. Those are consequences.”

“You don’t have to care how I feel anymore. No one does! Curufin doesn’t have to care how I feel because I’m not his son anymore. Orodreth doesn’t have to care how I feel because his biggest political headache just walked out the door.”

“I still care about you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“You don’t have to care how I feel either. In fact, you never had to! You could have just ordered me to strip whenever you wanted to have sex. Or to work in the forge to stay in shape even though I hate the heat. I would still have done it, and no one would have stopped you.”

“That would have made you pointlessly miserable.”

“And I don’t want you to be miserable either.”

“I don’t want you to stay out of pity.”

“What if I stay because we’re friends, and friends help each other?”

“Okay.”

“Besides, Celebrimbor the blacksmith is still as handsome as you were yesterday.”

So Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor stay in Nargothrond and continue their relationship. After a couple weeks for Celebrimbor asks to bottom, and they start switching things up more.

Orodreth invites the two of them to regular council meetings. Celebrimbor is, despite his claims, still the person most in touch with the Feanorians who live in Nargothrond. Gil-Galad is there mostly because Orodreth knows it pisses Curufin off to have Gil-Galad treated as an equal to Celebrimbor, and he hopes word gets out. (Curufin would see at as bringing Celebrimbor down to a commoner’s level.)

By the time Turin arrives, Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor are established members of Nargothrond’s council, and Gil-Galad has shown a talent for political advice.

Celebrimbor and Gil-Galad argue about the Turin/Finduilas/Gwindor situation.

Gil-Galad says that Finduilas is betrothed to Gwindor, and she has a duty to obey her word, now matter what happened to him. Celebrimbor believes in upholding one’s word, but it’s obvious to him that nobles are allowed to take lovers before they’re married and then break up with them - why shouldn’t Finduilas delay the marriage by a year or ten for a fling with Turin? Gil-Galad says that you can’t have one set of morals for people with fancy grandparents and one for other people. Celebrimbor says obviously you can, just because he’s renounced his position at the top doesn’t mean he thinks there’s anything wrong with the system.

The argument gets really personal, and they break up. They probably would have gotten back together after a few months to cool off.

But Nargothrond falls. They survive, and are suddenly the senior council members - everyone is looking to them for direction. Well, mostly to Gil-Galad, as Celebrimbor is still seen as too Feanorian. He remembers Orodreth talking about Doriath as exclusionist, but Sirion is nearby and Cirdan has a good reputation. Most of his folk fish, there will probably even be farmland available for the Nargothrondrim to use.

By the time they reach Sirion, everyone agrees that Gil-Galad is in charge even if they’re not sure why. Someone asks what house he’s part of, and Celebrimbor give the accurate but extremely misleading answer of “the royal house”.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

@anduniela : Character Thoughts - Finduilas

I think she was born in Middle-earth (and that Orodreth’s wife may have bern Sindarin). If she and Gwindor were in love (but not married, and not necessarily betrothed) at the time of the Nirnaeth, there has to be some reason why they didn’t get married during the 400-odd years between Dagor Aglareb and Dagor Bragollach. If she was relative young, and they were planning betrothal, and then people started having premonitions of doom and they decided to delay, and then the Bragollach happened and “the Eldar wed not in time of war” came into play - that would explain it. It also adds another possible motivation for Gwindor’s participation in the Nirnaeth - if they win, there will be peace and he and Finduilas can get married.

(You could say that “time of war” applies to the entire siege of Angband, but it stretches belief to think of the Eldar going an entire Age without reproducing.)

An alternative possibility which didn’t occur to me until now, is that she and Gwindor didn’t really know each other well until after the Bragollach when she came to Nargothrond, and that’s when they fell in love. Which would imply that she was at Tol Sirion during Sauron’s attack - a very interesting though.

The other reason I think of her as having been born in Middle-earth is that it adds interesting dimensions to her story during the Narn i Hîn Húrin. If she was born during the Long Peace, then peace is what she’s known for most of her life, and everything since the Bragollach is the world she’s known falling apart. And now sh3 has Túrin saying they can and should fight and win (and things can go back to normal!) and Gwindor saying they can never win, and of course the former narrative is going to appeal to her.

She’s not a shallow person, though - she’s really quite perceptive, as when she notes that Túrin falls in love based on compassion, not admiration.

The parallels and contrasts in the love triangle between her and Túrin and Gwindor compared to the one between Idril and Tuor and Maeglin are interesting. In both cases you’ve got a hidden realm, the princess of that realm, a Man who shows up and rapidly becomes very influential and close to the king, and an elf who’s been captured by Morgoth. In both cases the realm falls tragically. But Idril marries a man who loves her and saves part of her people, while Finduilas is unrequited and abandoned. (That that is on top of the much larger array of Turín-Tuor contrasts. They’re like the Goofus and Gallant of Beleriand.)

OTP: I like her and Gwindor.

Favourite non-romantic relationship: As the only Finarfinian grandkid, her uncles and aunt must have absolutely adored her - I’d like to know more about those relationships.

Unpopular opinion: I wonder whether she met Lúthien during the events of the Leithian and what they thought of each other. (This is one place where I’m not on board with The Leithian Script, which treats Finduilas more as a foil for Lúthien than as a character in her own right.) I wonder she asks herself whether there was anything she could have done to help her sneak out. If Lúthien had just gotten there one day earlier then Uncle Finrod would have survived. But of course no one (except Huan) helped her - they knew she’d go straight to Tol-in-Gaurhoth, and they had no idea how powerful she was and just thought she’d get herself killed, or worse, captured.

(At some point when Finduilas is in the Halls, she punches Curufin square in the face.)

Something I wish had/did happen with them in canon: I hope she and Gwindor got together again in Valinor once they both cam back to life.

I’ve got an amusing headcanon of her and Fingon in the Halls commiserating about their relationships and how very tired they are of having to repeat conversations like No, The Nirnaeth Was Not Entirely And Solely Your Fault and No, My Death Wasn’t Your Fault Either.

[arofili]

all of the silm asks.

river we can’t keep doing this,

1. Have you ever called out a friend or a relative in front of a bunch of people? What happened?lmao no??? what kind of question is this??

2. What are your three most valued possessions?uhh idk, ever since i got robbed last year i feel like i realized that the things i valued most aren’t...tangible? like everything is replaceable, basically. i mean i like having stuff, dont get me wrong, and getting robbed sucked, but. i guess my phone and my laptop and my notebook? i use those things to connect with people and my notebook is full of stuff i haven’t backed up anywhere else yet. but once i get it in The Cloud, all i really need is my google account tbh

3. Do you have any enemies?uhhh not to my knowledge hjhfjhfd

4. Fëanor, Fingolfin or Finarfin - who are you most like in real life?lmao finarfin probably. i try not to be a Big Idiot and i follow rules and i’m not the most adventurous. tho i probably have some nolofinwean traits too, if i say i’m gonna do something i will stick to my word

5. Best canon ship in the Silm?do turin and beleg count? no? okay, in that case probably aegnor and andreth. (i’m a slut for doomed interspecies relationships, dont judge)

6. Best m/f ship?uhh, this one was harder than i thought it would be! since i already said aegnor/andreth... i know i really like the canon peredhel ships so elwing/earendil and elrond/celebrian are very good! and i think caranthir/haleth is really interesting too, but i don’t see them as romantic

7. Best f/f ship?hmnnn... i mean ALL the f/f ships are so good! i guess- nienor/finduilas is some Good Shit right there, and i’ve always liked anaire/earwen!

8. Best m/m ship?answered here!

9. Best canon friendship?uhh, all of them?? ok but: luthien and huan,, my HEART! (also aredhel and celegorm and curufin!!)

10. What made you read the Silmarillion in the first place?the fandom, tbh! when i got into the tolkien fandom thru the hobbit movies i devoured all the content i could but i never thought i would be a silm person, but then all the posts seemed so interesting and i was starting to enjoy the silm by proxy and fanon so i decided to read the silm and never looked back :’)

11. Ainulindalë and Valaquenta - yay or nay?i mean they are definitely the least interesting parts of the silm, so nay? i’m not really sure what this is asking? i don’t think they’re pointless or anything, but i cam here for the ELVES

12. If you had to describe yourself with a character from Tolkien’s works, who would it be?answered here!

13. Where in Middle-Earth would you most like to live?answered here!

14. Who is your dream partner from Tolkien’s works?they are all such DISASTERS...i’d be lying if i said it wasn’t gimli and/or fili though, lol (in an aro way, ofc)

15. Which two characters would you want as friends to defeat Voldemort with?luthien and ... finrod! both very powerful and good people!

16. Your opinion of Eru Ilúvatar?i don’t think he can be judged by human standards, because he’s so inhuman. like, elves are kind of Super Special Magic Humans but Eru and the Valar are so far removed from that... I don’t think Eru is evil or anything like that. i think the valar can’t really understand the Children and their conflicts come from that - idk about Eru, though, we don’t see a lot of him. he seems very powerful and absent, i guess? he only really intervenes when the situation is Truly Dire and then he shows more of a force of unimaginable power than like, divine mercy or anything

17. Favourite AU setting?i really like the two-steps-to-the-left-of-canon AU settings where everything is juuuusst slightly more magical than it is in canon and things like wraiths and revivification are more commonplace. that may be cheating though so i got to say that i’m always here for scifi/space AUs! (normally i’d go right to modern AU but i feel like because of lifespans, modern AUs fall apart with the silm unless you’re going very small-scale with them)

18. Favourite crack pairing/concept/headcanon?“crack” is weird in the silm because of the dubious canonosity of Literally Everything... my fav ~crack~ pairing is probably turgon/finrod but that has evolved from “crack” to “rarepair hell” for me lmao. i also really love @princess-faelivrin‘s fin-galad headcanon! and i am currently daydreaming about some way that nienor is connected to goldberry - oh and tar-miriel as the witch-king is always a good one. really, anything that keeps the ladies alive for longer!

19. First, Second or Third Age?i mean they all have their good parts, but like... first age, probably. third age has gigolas and all the characters from the hobbit, which is tempting, but there’s just so MUCH to work with in the first age! second age is neat too but i’m not really a numenor person so...

20. Funniest moment in the Silm?tie between turin throwing the cup at saeros and “GET THEE GONE FROM MY GATE, THOU JAIL-CROW OF MANDOS”

(if turin and feanor ever met, arda would collapse)

21. Saddest moment?i mean, turin killing beleg always fucking gets me, but also maedhros’s suicide and also the nirnaeth arnoediad and also just the whole fucking book!!!

22. Do you read/understand/speak any of the languages or alphabets?lmao no!! with resources i can put together names for folks and i can recognize certain elements of words, but that’s about it.

23. Who is Gil-galad’s father?i’m throwing my hat in the ring for Orodreth, but that’s only when i don’t want to make it like, a Thing. i really love explorations of this uncertainty (@elvntari‘s gil-galad fic springs to mind, as does @thishazeleyeddemon‘s lalwen theory, maybe with cirdan as the dad, and fin-galad is again a blessed concept) and i’m also very fond of the idea that his parentage is “no one in particular” and that he just stepped forward to claim the throne when no one else wanted it. really i’m open to every interpretation! except fingon. i don’t think it’s fingon. i mean, it could very well be that fingon is his dad as in he’s the one who raised him and claimed him, but if we’re going biologically i don’t think fingon contributed any genetic material to gil-galad

24. Angbang, Russingon or Silvergifting?i mean this is a no-brainer. of course it’s russingon! i do enjoy angbang and silvergifting, but like cmon.one of these days i’d love to write a really long angbang fic detailing everything btwn them, probably mostly from mairon’s pov, from ainulindale to the fourth age but that would be an undertaking. i do have a lot of tiny ideas for them that would be fun to weave together. as for silvergifting, just...poor tyelpe. poor dude. but i am suuuuch a slut for russingon lmao.

25. What would you most like to see in a tv series or film based on the Silmarillion?i would LOVE to see a book-accurate version but like. that’s VERY unlikely. a COH adaptation would be neat but probably too dark to make it to audiences without being seriously watered down. Beren and Luthien might be able to do it, if they could condense the supporting lore around the story. that’s really the problem with the silm - it’s like a greek myth in it’s epic sprawl. there’s so much story that you can’t really take just one aspect of it to the screen without taking all of it. if you don’t know about the silmarils you can’t do B&L, if you don’t know about the nirnaeth and the histories of nargothrond and doriath you can’t do COH, if you don’t know about the sundering and the exiles you can’t do literally anything tbh.BUT i would love a COH adaptation, if it’s done right. or a very ~experimental~ take on B&L. i have a lot of ideas of how to incorporate all the different versions of that story into one cohesive canon... ok i admit it i just want to see telvido on screen!!! and also werewolves are neat!!

also i’ve said it before but a 3-act play set in numenor....HMM that would be some good hsit. really, i think the mariner’s wife would make an excellent drama, but again there’s so much CONTEXT around numenor!the 3 acts would be 1. elros’s transformation into tar-minyatur (there’s so many possibilities to explore! it’s basically uncharted waters once you get to the details!) 2. the mariner’s wife (a pretty faithful adaptation, also tar-meneldur’s monologue when he passes the scepter on to aldarion is just. WRITTEN to be performed on stage imo) and 3. akallabeth (again, lots of ways this could go. i also think it would be really neat to double cast elros and pharazon. and sauron should be double cast too, though idk who as.)

anyway, wow this got long, oops. i have a LOT of silm opinions!!

[bailesu]

A Story Excerpt for Legendarium Ladies April

This is from an unfinished project.  The opening is set at the end of the Seventh Age, as the Dagor Dagorath is approaching and Aegnor and Findulias are having a talk.  This is in Nienna’s halls, where Aegnor dwells; Cemnaron is one of Nienna’s maidens and Alassanyere is the child of Aegnor and Andreth, who has slept since his parents died and his recent awakening is one of the heralds of the end of the world; he is a very small child.

**************

“The war is over on Arda; things should return to normal, though Mandos will be overworked for years to come, I think,” Finduilas told him.  “I will be staying until the crisis is over.”

He was in his office; Cemnaron was playing with Alassanyere, letting him grab and play with things, while he worked on a table with a model of the defenses he hoped to build.  Several masons stood nearby; he was consulting with them.  He was Noldor, but more warrior than craftsman.  

“It is likely to be months before all of the dead are found.  But the world is not ending yet,” Finduilas continued, studying the model sadly.  “But it comes.  The end comes soon,” she almost whispered, reaching out to touch a proposed wall.  “Must this become a place of war?” she said sadly.

“I know.  But war will come to us, not by our choice but because the end of days is here,” Aegnor said sadly.  “I regret this.”

Finduilas sighed.  “I wonder if we will even recognize them, when we see them.”  She did not have to explain who.

“Will they recognize us?  Neither of us is the same as when we were parted too soon,” Aegnor told her, trying to see if his design had any flaws.  “I have not killed anything but animals since the last day I saw her; I must become a warrior again but for so long, I have lived in peace.”  His son was that peace, but the model before him showed he could not stay in peace, as he had hoped.  Much as he resented every moment he couldn’t be with his wonderful son.

“And I have become among the Wise,” Finduilas said.  “As Luthien became.”  She licked her lips nervously, her right thumb and index finger rubbing together.  “Did you ever meet her?”

“Only once,” he told her.  “Did you?”

“When she came to Nargothrond.”

*********************

Finduilas had spent a very long time worrying about her uncle Finrod, when he laid down his overlordship of Nargothrond and rode out to honor his oath, leaving with a few men and the handsome human, Beren; he was the first human she had ever seen, and though he was ragged and battered, his mien was noble and his gaze strong and she approved of him.

Her father ruled now, but Celegorm and Curufin dominated the land now, and the way Celegorm looked at her sometimes bothered her.  He sent her presents, and if he had not been so wrong… but there was something wrong about him. He bothered her.  She had another suitor, lower in status but brave and strong and honest and not twisted and bent, Gwindor.  

She was in the forest with him, gathering herbs which would be used to treat those injured in defense of Nargothrond; she agreed with Celegorm that the best policy was ambush and stealth, even if she rejected his advances.  

A dozen men ringed the clearing, hidden well enough she could not see them, as she checked mushrooms and began uprooting some of them and putting them in a bag.  Gwindor paced beside her.  “Do not fear, dear Finduilas, any foe who should strike will be laid low by my men without hesitation or fear.”  He swished his sword at a tree as if it might suddenly grow fangs and strike.  But he would be ready.

“I always know I am safe with you,” she said and he smiled brightly, a light in his brown eyes.  He was both strong enough to protect her and safe in ways that Celegorm was not.  Not as exciting as some tales of love would claim, but she was content to be his lady love, and one day they would eventually be wed, once they were sure and hopefully when things were more peaceful once more.

“Sir, a party led by Lords Celegorm and Curufin are approaching with some woman I do not know they did not leave with,” one of Gwindor’s men said, emerging from the shadows under the trees.

He frowned, then hid his men again and moved with Finduilas behind him to hail them; the woman was the most incredibly beautiful person Finduilas had ever seen.  Celegorm led her by the arm and she smiled broadly at Finduilas, though her beautiful black hair was an ungroomed, tangled mess, her dress torn and stained in strange ways… was that blood?  Despite the mess, the woman looked regal, a queen.  Huan bounced along by Celegorm, his tail wagging; he was big enough for a person to ride if they chose, a huge… not monster, but a grand dog.  The greatest of dogs.

“Huan!” Finduilas said, and he bounded over to her, nearly knocking her down; he wanted to be affectionate but he was so large it sometimes took even an Elf down.

“Princess, this is Princess Luthien of Doriath,” Celegorm said cheerfully.  Curufin looked somber, but then, he always did.  “She has come seeking aid for our cousin Finrod and his Edain ally, who lie in the prisons of Sauron.”

Gwindor frowned.  “We must act soon, then!”

“We go to see the King,” Curufin said smoothly.  “On this issue.”

“Luthien, this is our cousin Finduilas, Princess of Nargothrond and daughter of the King,” Celegorm said to her.

Finduilas clasped Luthien’s hands in hers.  “I’m sure Father will aid you.  This is my dear friend Lord Gwindor,” she continued, smiling warmly at her old friend who one day she would marry, she was sure.  When the time was right, not in this time of war.

If this time of war ever ended.  But she tried not to think about that.  

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Luthien said and Finduilas shivered.  There was something about her voice which just drew you in; it was like a good tea with honey and lemon.  So smooth and… Luthien’s smile was like the sun rising in the east, a promise of a glorious dawn.  Finduilas felt overwhelmed, just being near her and her whole body was almost entranced from head to toe.

She remembered the stories of how Thingol had been entranced by Luthien’s mother and suddenly wondered how anyone in Doriath got anything done.    She wanted… she didn’t know what she wanted, just to look at Luthien until she died.

And then it passed or died down or she got used to it enough to just blush and smile and say, “I will arrange quarters for you.  We have lived so close for so long and never even met each other.”

“Father has never let me leave Doriath; I had to defy him to do so,” Luthien said to her.  “But it is a pleasure to meet you, cousin.”  For they were kin because Earwen, wife of Finarfin, was the daughter of Thingol’s brother Olwe of the Teleri.  And Earwen was Finduilas’ great-grandmother.

And so they gaily conversed on the way back to Nargothrond.

Where Celegorm and Curufin locked up Luthien and tried to force her to marry Celegorm, until Huan rescued her and they escaped.  From that time on, the decline and fall of Nargothrond began, though only in hindsight could Finduilas see it so.  

******************

Aegnor shivered.  “I never met her, but… I see,” he said softly.  Then he looked at his son and wondered if his son would be like that when he was older.  He could see some of Nienna in Luthien… the power and glory of the Ainur.  Even the Valar usually cloaked themselves somewhat when dealing with the Children of Iluvatar, but he had seen their glory uncloaked.  You could see it all the time now as Nienna sang to the dead.

Alassanyere now pointed at Finduilas.  “Mama, pick me up.”

She started, then smiled and came over, picking him up.  “Mama,” she said, her voice sad, though she smiled at him.

“Papa,” Alassanyere said, pointing at himself.

He was getting close to where they would have to teach him the proper words for men and women.  But not yet.  Let him be this way a little while, Aegnor thought.  It would pass quickly.

“I wish we could take him outside,” Finduilas said, and sighed. But the dead were still numerous and some still showed up in odd places and he had seen far more of them than a child should.

“The gardens are usually clear,” Cemnaron said.

“I must work,” Aegnor told her.  “But feel free; he should get to know all his kin and everyone is so busy.”  He sighed and studied the model again, feeling guilty.

And so they went, leaving him to his work.

*******************

This is from Neon Genesis Silmarillion, my unfinished Evangelion/Legendarium story.  

(The dead she references are the giant tide from the war which came after ‘Second Impact’, which in this story is Earendil being pulled down from the heavens by a balrog and crashing to Earth.  Half the Earth’s population died and the Halls of Mandos overflowed with the dead roaming the countryside)

“

[elesianne]

A Silmarillion fanfic

Summary: A private discussion with the king of Nargothrond goes awry in a way Curufin didn't anticipate.

Length: ~2,100 words , Rating: Teenage audiences & up

Warnings: A bit of mild violence and blood. Blood is even in the title this time. (For some reason I have to warn for blood for half my fics this week... who to be concerned about, me or these characters?)

Characters in the story: Curufin, Finrod, Celegorm

Some keywords: drama in Nargothrond, unresolved tension (political and otherwise), Curufin being Curufin

A/N: My starting point for this fic was that prior to Beren's arrival in Nargothrond, Curufin and Celegorm were mostly good guests and allies to Finrod (this much is canon) but that they didn't always find it very easy. (AO3 link.)

This is Gen on the surface but if you are severely allergic to slash it might be best to give this fic a miss.

*

Crowns and sons, gold and blood

Curufin waits by the door of the council chamber while other advisors and commanders file out, a handful staying behind to exchange a few words with the king. Curufin curbs his impatience and maintains an impassive expression, for it suits him to wait the longest and speak with Finrod in private.

Curufin's blood is just as royal as Finrod's, if not more, though he wears a slender circlet instead of a crown. He has no intention of joining the ranks of his cousin's fawning hangers-on, and he spares those no glance when they leave the room, his eyes on the king who is alone at last. With a final glance at the papers before him, Finrod leaves his place at the head of the long table and walks over to Curufin with an enquiring look.

'I would talk with you in private, cousin', Curufin says. Cousin, not my lord or your highness or your majesty, for there are no titles between them. It was the first challenge Curufin posed to Finrod when he arrived with his brother and their people, homeless and weary from hardship and loss. Curufin and Celegorm were landless lords seeking help from Finrod the great king, yet from the day of their arrival they have addressed him only as cousin.

Finrod has given no indication of requiring or even desiring a title from Curufin, then or now.

'If it does not displease you, may we walk together to my chambers and speak there?' he asks Curufin. 'I have spent a long day in this room, and I am heartily sick of the sight of it.'

Curufin's gaze flickers to the beautifully carven walls and painted ceiling but only for a moment before it returns to Finrod, golden and glittering in his finery and regalia. 'It does not displease me.'

They walk along long corridors, high halls and wide stairways to Finrod's apartments, the silence between them broken only in the beginning by Finrod asking whether it is the last, contentious point raised in the meeting that Curufin wishes to discuss. Curufin answers that it is, and that is all that is said before they reach Finrod's rooms.

Curufin cannot help but think once again of how Finrod seems fully content with how things are, with Curufin and his brother and son and their people staying in Nargothrond as his guests, Finrod receiving advice and aid from the sons of Fëanor. Finrod's generosity appears to extend even to not begrudging the influence they have come to wield among his own people.

Curufin is the one who cannot be content with how things lie. He is restless, and he cannot help envying all that Finrod possesses that Celegorm and Curufin, princes of the first house of the Noldor, have lost.

Finrod doesn't take Curufin to his formal reception room, leading him instead his private sitting room, and he doesn't bother to summon a servant but instead goes around the sumptuously decorated room lighting candles himself. Curufin doesn't offer to help. He stands by the door and watches the warm candlelight add another layer of gilt to his cousin's hair.

The blue-glowing lampstones his father invented are more practical, but Curufin must admit that sometimes candles are more appealing. Finrod lights unnecessarily, ridiculously many of them until the whole room glows softly, and the king most brightly of all the golden things.

'Do not think that I do not appreciate your admiration, but I must say, there are times when I think you spend too little time thinking about your wife and too much time looking at me', says Finrod serenely as he returns to Curufin, laying down the last candle on a low cupboard beside the door.

Curufin is taken aback but hastens to hide it behind his practised mask of mocking amusement, and to answer Finrod with equal frankness and equanimity. 'Why would I think of my wife when she wants nothing to do with me, and is half a world away besides?'

'Ah.' A beatific smile. 'Do forgive me, I forgot that you did not part on the best of terms. The memory of it must pain you.'

Amazement at how wrong he has been fills Curufin's mind, for it seems that Finrod is not as content with Curufin's presence and behaviour as he has appeared to be, and that he has not lost the Noldorin fire that in their youth used to simmer in him, deep beneath the surface but still there.

This pleases Curufin greatly; a Finrod offering to trade barbs is a much more tolerable Finrod than one who seems nothing but gentle and wise and serene.

'The memory of my wife pains me no more than the memory of your sweetheart refusing to come with you must pain you', he answers, with a decidedly less beneficent smile than his cousin's. He doesn't like to speak of his wife, not even to think of her, in truth. But Finrod need not know that.

He is pleased to see that his words have the desired effect: Finrod flushes and appears discombobulated. You should not play this game with me, cousin, Curufin thinks, smiling more widely, for you are a novice at it and I a master.

'We were not married', replies Finrod defensively.

'Oh, but that is no excuse. You were betrothed, and even for the law-abiding Vanyar, there was no law against getting married quickly and then coming to Beleriand together. Just think of it. Had Amárië come with you, you might have your own son ruling by your side instead of that milksop boy of your brother's. Would that not be lovely?'

'It might be. Then again, fathers and sons do not always live in harmony, do they? And it can be a cause of great grief for the father.'

Finrod bows his head of gold and removes his crown, a plain, simple thing compared to the magnificent necklace that adorns his throat. He sets it down on the cupboard next to the candle with a careless motion; as the crown clatters down, for a moment its smooth golden surface reflects the single flame and turns into a sea of fire.

Running a hand through the long fall of his hair, his composure restored now while Curufin seethes, the king continues, 'I am sorry to have seen a rift developing between you and Celebrimbor lately. Perhaps it will console you to know that I have given him much good advice concerning you.'

They are standing quite close to each other now; Finrod's eyes are on Curufin's, calm on furious. Curufin takes a step closer and Finrod doesn't back away; Curufin lunges, grabs him by the necklace and pushes him against the door.

Blue eyes showing nothing but mild curiosity, Finrod doesn't fight back or shout out to the guards just outside the door.

'I think that you spend too much time with my son', Curufin says, trying not to notice how warm the jewels and gold are and how soft is his cousin's skin under his fingers.

'Or perhaps you spend too little.'

Curufin tightens his hold, and a single drop of blood appears on the fine throat amidst the gemstones and the gold.

'It seems that there are sharp points in the works of the Naugrim', he observes. Finrod is perfectly motionless now, though he still doesn't look scared.

Hit me, curse me, push me away, pull me closer – do anything other than look at me with such dispassion, Curufin exhorts in his mind.

'Few things are beautiful without any hard or dangerous edges', Finrod replies, and Curufin cannot help but agree. After all, it seems that even Finrod is not without them.

It makes him all the more fascinating to Curufin. He picks up the drop of blood on his fingertip and tells Finrod that red suits him. 'You should wear it more it often.'

'Red suits you too', Finrod says and raises a hand to stroke the scarlet silk of Curufin's sleeve close to where Curufin's fingers still hold their tight grip on the Nauglamír. 'Which is fortunate for you, since you would wear it anyway in memory of your father. Finrod the Faithful I have been called, but you were far more faithful to your father than I to mine.'

Finrod slides his hand to Curufin's, not to pull it away but in a touch as soft as a lover's; Curufin lets go of him suddenly, and Finrod takes a step to the side, slowly enough to imbue it with his innate grace and make it look like he's still not trying to escape though he has every reason to.

'You still are faithful to Fëanáro, are you not, Atarinkë? As much as you can be, things being as they are.'

Curufin realises that Finrod only stepped away to land the final blow from a safe distance, his words armed with the language of their youth.

Curufin has no answer to give but for a look of anger and hatred.

'I think it best that we postpone our discussion until tomorrow, don't you?' Finrod asks, and one of his hands flits to his throat and the faint bruises forming there. He draws it away quickly, but it has already revealed that his absolute calm is only a facade.

It brings a rush of satisfaction to Curufin, and he is able to summon a smile, bright and joyless. 'I agree, my lord.' It easy to grant Finrod the title at this moment when it cannot sound like anything but mockery.

Finrod nods, and another drop of blood appears on his throat and stains a golden curlicue of the necklace, drawing Curufin's eye.

Finrod's next words make his gaze snap back to the king's face in fury.

'Goodnight, Curufinwë. Give Tyelperinquar my regards if by chance you happen to see him before I do.'

A heartbeat passes in tense silence, and then Curufin turns and leaves without a word.

*

I should never have gone to his rooms, Curufin tells himself when he makes his way to his own chambers. If I spoke with him only in public places, something like that could not happen.

He is not entirely pleased with this thought, nor is he pleased to find his brother in his room.

'I see you've returned from the scouting trip', he says irritably and strips off the heavy overrobe and rich jewellery that are the trappings of the court and now chafe him, though most of the time he quite enjoys their splendour.

Lounging in front of the fire petting his huge hound, Celegorm grins at Curufin. 'I see you haven't missed me.'

'You missed a council meeting today.'

'I doubt there was anything that required my contribution in particular. Or was there?'

'No.' Curufin thinks of the plans he still needs to discuss with Finrod, then pushes those thoughts aside. 'Did you see Celebrimbor on your way in?'

'No, I didn't.' Celegorm stretches luxuriously, looking like a big dog himself lying on the bearskin before the fireplace. Curufin eyes with distaste the muddy foot and paw prints leading there.

'I take it you haven't seen him today, then', Celegorm states when he finishes his stretching.

'I didn't go to the forges today. I haven't seen him for days, actually. I've been busy working with our cousin.' Curufin takes a seat in a comfortable chair and thinks of what he should have said to Finrod before he left. Leaving the last word to someone else never pleases him.

'You shouldn't let him get to you like that', Celegorm says. His posture is still relaxed and his scratching of Huan's ears seems absent-minded, but his pale eyes are watchful.

'It's that damned serenity of his, how he maintains it even when provoked. I know it is childish, but it makes me want to test the limits of his patience…'

Curufin knows that Celegorm will never rebuke him for being less than diplomatic so it is not so difficult to confess things like this to his brother, though he would not speak thus to anyone else.

He is surprised to see a mild grin of amusement appear on Celegorm's fair face. Celegorm says wryly, 'I meant your son. But it applies to Finrod as well, I suppose. Don't let him get under your skin.'

Curufin shakes his head. 'I'll keep enough of a distance from now on that he can't.'

He says no more and Celegorm doesn't ask, but his gaze dwells on his brother for a long while, curious and assessing.

Curufin doesn't notice it. He stares into the fire and the yellow-red flames remind him of blood on gold, of the flame of a candle reflected on a crown laid aside so carelessly.

*

A/N: If Curufin's attitude to Finrod and his equanimity reminded some regular readers of mine of Curufin's behaviour in the early chapters of Sparks fly out, well, what can I say? He has a type. (Not that this story is necessarily connected to Sparks fly out and other stories where Netyarë appears. You can decide for yourselves whether she is the wife Curufin doesn't like to think about.)

I always appreciate feedback and hearing readers' thoughts on my fics! Comments on AO3 are very welcome.

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

The entire album “All This Bad Blood” by Bastille is 1000% about the Silmarillion. Complete track listing and which character/event each song goes with under the cut.

"Pompeii" - The fight against Sauron echoing the fight against Morgoth. 

'And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love,’ the destruction of Formenos and Gondolin and Ost-in-Edhil

‘Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all,’ refusing a powerful spirit’s offer of knowledge and throwing him out the city.

‘Does it almost feel like you’ve been here before,’ the High King of the Noldor rides out to fight the Dark Lord

‘How am I going to be an optimist about this’ no actions of elves did anything more than buy time last Age

"Things We Lost in the  Fire" - Fingolfin’s host watching the burning of the ships at Losgar. ‘We were born with nothing / And we sure as hell have nothing now’ but we’re not going to turn back just because it’s hopeless

"Bad Blood" - Fingon and Maedhros. ‘That those are the days that bind us / Together, forever’ and ‘All this bad blood here / won’t you let it dry.’

"Overjoyed" -  Feanor swearing the Oath and convincing the Noldor to follow him across the sea, taking vengeance rather than grief for Finwe. ‘ When you listen to my words / I see them sinking in / Oh, I see them crawling underneath your skin.’

"These Streets" - Maeglin in Gondolin, the city his mother told him all about, the city where Aredhel and Eol both died. ‘We have stained these walls / with our mistakes and flaws’

"Weight of Living, Pt.  II" The sons of Feanor and the second and third kinslayings.  ‘Oh, tell yourself this is how it's going to be’  ‘Now that you are here, suddenly you fear / You've lost control.’ Doriath falls, and Sirion falls the same, and this will keep happening.

"Icarus" - Feanor, obviously ‘You put up your defenses when you leave / You leave because you're certain / Of who you want to be.’ as well as ‘Icarus is flying / Towards an early grave’

"Oblivion" - Nienor when Glaurung reveals who she really is. ‘Are you going to age with grace? / Or only to wake and hide your face?’

"Flaws" - Nerdanel and Feanor. ‘You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve / And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground.’ Nerdanel, the wise, strong willed but seeking to understand. Feanor, the greatest of the children of Illuvatar, never admitted he had a single flaw.

"Daniel in the Den" - Finrod, both for the title and ‘Felled in the night by the ones you think you love’ re: Curufin and Celegorm leading Nargothrond against him

"Laura Palmer" - Turin, realizing he’s caused yet another tragedy and going to start a new life under a new name.  ‘The night was all you had / You ran into the night from all you had’

"Get Home" - Celegorm and Curifin after being kicked out of Nargothrond ‘To the morning we're cast out but I know I'll land here again / How am I gonna get myself back home?’ Fleeing somewhere that was supposed to be safe for the second time in a decade.

 "Poet" - Maglor, author of the Noldolante ‘I have written you down now / You will live forever’

"The Silence" Miriel, fading from exhaustion in Lorien as her husband and son wait for her to get better. ‘Now you've hit a wall and you hit it hard’

"Haunt (Demo)" - Fingon and Maedhros. ‘I will try to love you / It's not like I'm above you.’ They both fought at Aqualonde, Fingon won’t put that all on Maedhros.

"Weight of Living, Pt.  I" - Sons of Feanor and the Oath and the kinslayings. ‘Your albatross, shoot it down, shoot it down / When you just can't shake the heavy weight of living.’ Forswear the Oath, or argue that you should wait, or maybe you can’t live with yourself after all.

"Sleepsong" - Elrond and Elros with captor/foster father Maglor, who is at least better than being lost on your own in the wilderness at age six. ‘All you want is someone onto whom you can cling / Your mother warned of strangers and the dangers they may bring.’

"Durban Skies" - Celeborn showing Galadriel around Menegroth. ‘It’s alive / Now I understand your lives’

"Laughter Lines" - Finrod and Amarie. He crossed the sea and she stayed in Tirion. They expected defeating Morgoth to only take a few years, and then he’d come back for her. ‘I'll see you in the future when we're older / And we are full of stories to be told.’