#celegorm x aredhel

[witchofhimring]

To you who is lost

Chapter 1: Duty is the death of love

Chapter synopsis: Your husband leaves for despair and death. Left behinde, you are left at the mercy of others.

Warnings: Angst, abandonment, crying, pregnancy

Note: Usually I save notes for the end but this time I will also put some at the beginning. I am using their Quenya names (ex. Maedhros is called Maitimo).

Emmeril, Airin and llë are my OC's

You would lament thereafter for the lack of foresight. The wise in Arda would mourn their kindred, who had stepped out of bliss and into woe. Nerdanel, Amarië, Anairë, these great women of the Blessed Realm were linked in sorrow to those left behind. You joined this tragic assembly, united in regret. Days would waste away as you asked " What was there to be done?". Anguishing over every time you could have forestalled these harrowing events.

It had been a storm, slowly strengthening until its power was too great to prevail. Deceived, one and all had been taken in. Melkor's repentance had seemed so genuine. Save Tulkas and Curufinwe none had heeded any notion of trickery. Now the dark Vala's laughter rang in Angamando, echoing off the stone walls. In your own halls, you sighed. Brought so low you were a specter of the beautiful young elf maiden whose laughter had lit up Tirion. These days were dark with the Alduya felled.

"Will you come to bed?" Amarië, whose suffering was as great as yours, came forward. Together they cast their gazes to the darkness beyond. All of Arda had been plunged into an impenetrable shadow. Amarië's light was much dimmed, her golden hair hanging forlornly. She had always been pale and thin but her boundless joy had given her strength which many envied. They need envy no longer. Findaráto had sworn to return and Amarië held him to it. She was bound to him, although not formally, and believed he would return. For a time Amarië would remain before departing. She would dwell in her home and wait for Findaráto.

You had been gifted no such reassurance. Cast off, Maitimo had spurned every vow he made. Bitter words were exchanged, things that could not be unsaid. Unlike Amarië's stalwart serenity, you had wept. Your marriage had been waning for some time now. When Curufinwe stormed into exile you followed to Formenos. In Formenos you would lose your husband.

The laws of the Eldar commanded that husband and wife be one in all things. Never had you any cause to doubt these customs. Naturally, a husband and wife must cleave together. Growing up in a big, tightly-knit family, a certain worldview had been formed. There was never any doubt that if you married your husband would always protect you. And how could you not? Your father had always been so devoted to your mother, his desire to make her happy endless.

Your worldview had been, to a degree, changed when you married Maitimo. The house of Finwe had been in turmoil for quite some time. Since Finwe cemented his union Indis despite the protests of his son Feanaro, his progeny had torn at one another. Though to Nolofinwe's credit, the war was pitifully one-sided. Even those who had never encountered either prince heard of the brotherly animosity. A pungent cloud of this great house, many feared for the day a storm would break. Coming from a close family this was something of an anomaly. Your father had quarreled with his brothers, but nothing could sunder their bond. Your mother had her gripes with her sisters, but their love always brought them together again. Being the eldest of your family you had the unenviable job of keeping rambunctious youngers siblings in line. However no matter what troubles came your, love and affection remained. Perhaps this made the end inevitable.

You begged him not to leave that day. The death of High King Finwë plunged all of Arda into grief. Sickening amounts of blood were saturated into the ground. From there after that very spot was stained by Melkor's vile deed. The smell sent your head reeling and burning bile to bubble. You had never seen a dead body before and abhorred the slaughter of animals. They might think you weak for it, but you knew this sight would curdle the blood of even the most austere of elves. Wails of despair took the place of joy. The light had faded and everything became dark. If only it had stopped there, oh by Eru how you wished this was the worst.

It all started on a day filled with joy. Manwë had summoned the Houses Fingolfin and Curufinwë, ordering peace between the two families. Brother took brother in hand and promised peace and friendship. Though how sincere Curufinwë was remained unknown. Many times you had witnessed Curufinwë rage over his younger brother. He howled over the "spawn of Indis" and cursed him. Such festering resentment could not be swept aside by simple sweet words. "I know we should be glad. But I can not help feeling dread." Maitimo simply took your hand in his. "I assure you that nothing bad will happen." His smile reassured you. Oh how wrong he was. When the darkness fell confusion and fear reigned. Finwë was dead, the Silmarills stolen and half of the Edain of Valinor gone. The only respite was Arafinwë returning to take leadership.

All the lights went out. Melkor had drained the trees of all their light, and from there he fled. But there was no running from the darkness. Warmth and light were replaced by darkness and dread. Wails of the bereft took the place of laughter. You who had once been so full of joy had only despair for company. Things had been far from perfect even before the oath. When Curufinwë had been exiled your husband went with him. Of course, you understood his duty as the eldest son. But it didn't make the move from Tirion to Formenos. That day you had to leave behind all those you loved. Try as you might to sway Maitimo to stay, it worked to no avail. In those days you would have done anything for him, and so where he went you followed. You tried not to complain. Even when Curufinwë's temper became unbearable, or your friends stopped sending letters. You could not blame them, living in the court of temporary King Nolofinwë and keeping in touch with you was risky. At least your family was supportive. Your younger sisters and brothers But even in those cold days you still would never have thought Maitimo would leave you. The years had been trying, but he still cared for you in those days. Years later in the dead of night, as you lay awake, you wondered if every "I love you" had been a lie.

"Please, if you have ever loved me you would stay." He did not meet your eyes. He just looked back to the army assembling in the courtyard below. "Have I not followed you all these years? What could I have done for you to cast me aside!" You seized his arm. Gently he pried you off him. "Y/n, you must understand that I have to go. Of course you may follow me-" "I have done nothing but follow you! Maitimo this is suicide!" It was at this point your father in law chose to appear, ascending the steps in a storm of fury. "If you do not choose to follow your husband, as you are sworn to do, then you are no wife!" Temperamental, yes, but now there was the flame of madness dancing in his eyes. Curufinwë had taken leave of his senses. "My vows said that I would follow him as my conscious dictates! As your wife has stayed in Valinor so shall I." The comment was poorly timed. Anger beat so furiously in your chest that you thought not of the consequences. With a roar of unbridled fury, Curufinwë drew his sword. Horrified, both you and Maitimo stepped back. The tip was right at your neck, an inch further would slice the flesh. "Depart, faithless wretch! And do not let me find you lurking in these hall again lest I strike you dead!" Maitimo drew you away and behind him. "You will cease your insults of my wife." You stared up at him in awe. Here he was standing up to his father, possibly the greatest of the Noldor. You had thought at that moment Maitimo had seen sense. He led you off to a room, away from his father and the chaos below.

"Maitimo!" You flung your arms around his shoulders. An elated kiss was placed on his forehead. But his eyes were sad with what you later realized was guilt. Gently he pried you off of him. He was gentle but his actions indicated he wanted to put distance between you and himself. "Do-?" You were unable to finish. Maitimo closed his eyes and whispered something so quietly under his breath you almost missed it. Almost. "Please." "Maitimo?" Your temporary relief was dashed as quickly as it came. "Y/n, I must follow my father." One could hear a pin drop. Your world had been torn apart, fractured almost beyond repair. "My Lord-Maitimo! You must not!" Your body was shaking, horror gripping you like a vice. Your legs seemed unable to hold themselves, such was the agony you felt at that moment. Falling to your knees, you started to beg.

"Husband, if you have any love for me then-" Suddenly Maitimo's could not even meet your eye. "You will not sway me Y/n." His voice was hard, cold, a tone he had recently adopted and that reared its head more and more frequently. You could not believe what you were hearing. Your husband seemed to disregard the bond between man and wife, that they must always stay side by side. And here he was abandoning you at your hour of need. You were scared. Finwë was dead and the rest were in self imposed-exile. The journey ahead scared you. To leave the safe haven of Valinor was suicide. You could understand avenging the King, you had great love and respect for him. And as King he must be avenged. But this was beyond simple revenge. This very act would tear apart the house of Finwë, and all of Valinor. Your family. Curufinwë's heart had turned dark and following him to this end. And there was another, more overriding reason. A shaking hand went to your stomach.

It could be a lie to say that everything had been perfect before the darkening. Hard to admit, but your presence in the family was not welcomed by everyone. Curufinwë and his son who shared the same name looked upon you with disdain. You were to head-in-the-clouds for them to ever like. You tried, only to end in ridicule and failure. The escalation was partly your fault, afraid of causing trouble Maitimo was never told. Looking back, telling Maitimo might have been wiser. Alas, you did not. This was not to say the rest were unkind. Never had there been a great closeness between Tyelkormo, Carinstir and yourself, there was also never ill blood either. Though you were better acquainted with the latter's wife, Ilë. Macalaurë had always been kind but rather unapproachable, him being so proud. You supposed that was what Emmeril liked about him. The twins you were the closest to, out of the lot, Telvo and Pityo. His cousins hailing from the house of Nolofinwë you held a greater preference for. Save Turokáno who thought you rather silly.

There lay a great enmity between the houses Curufinwë and Nolofinwë. Or rather, Curufinwë held a deep mistrust and dislike of his younger brother. The ill sentiment had spread like a poison to all his kin, even the children. During the exile in Formenos you were forced to meet Findecáno and his younger sister, at times with Arakáno. Those years had been hard, especially for those such as Turkafinwë and Maitimo who forged deep bonds with their kin. Curufinwë the younger missed Írissë, despite his attempts to hide it. Those years in Formenos had been horribly lonely, bereft of company. With a family far away and friends forced to stay in Tirion company was limited. Only two friends had accompanied you. But denied company they soon started to despair. Despite what it cost you have them leave. Many tears had been shed that day. The resentment between the various members of Curufinwë started to devour the residents. Anger brewed, bitterness ensued.

"And Indis's brood wander those halls, our halls! What right... what claim does the House of Indis have to my father's throne! The throne of my forefathers!" Around Curufinwë's table everyone sat, save Ilë who pleaded exhaustion. The rest of you were not spared Curufinwë's rage. Sitting next to Maitimo your hands shook, his hand on your knee. The twins sat closest to their father, though Telufinwë not leaning in as close. Turkafinwë's seemed unusually thoughtful, for such a brash elf. Curufinwë the younger's face was obscured from shadow, his silent wife beside him. Morifinwë was leaning in towards Curufinwë with a red flush crawling up his face. Kanafinwë and Emmeril sat on the sidelines, observers of Curufinwë's rant. You would give anything to leave this table.

"What of our Uncle Arafinwë?" Maitimo was far too fond of his half-uncles for Curufinwë's liking. You could see his thin pale lips tighten. His dark blue eyes, bloodshot, narrowed in on Maitimo. "He is his mother's son." Curufinwë's stance was clear. Your thoughts went to Amarië who you had not seen in years. Last you heard Findaráto had pledged to marry her. Wondering if Curufinwë would allow you to attend their wedding, you looked outside. Formenos was cut off from the rest of Valinor. Held up in these mountains it was hard to see anything else. It only served to make you feel more nervous.

"Though, I do wonder if not everyone is paying attention." Curufinwë's tone made it seem he was scolding a child. Except it was you. "My apologies." Quickly covering your mistake, you sat there rigidly. "My wife meant no offense." Maitimo was swift to defend. Curufinwë looked ready to say more but chose to abstain. All you could do was stare at your lap, numb with anxiety.

Maitimo had changed. The bleakness and chill of Formenos had worn on everyone. Exhaustion had settled over the residents like a heavyweight. Loneliness became a constant companion, stalking you like a specter. In the beginning, it was not so bad. You spent time making this place a home. A small garden was built in the courtyard with help from Maitimo. Carefully you tended to the delicate petals, their white petals reflecting light. He would wind them in your hair, cascading down in a waterfall of flowers. They spent much of their time holed up inside their room. It became a safe haven, a world that separated themselves from all the torments outside. Light blue curtains adorned the windows, you had elected for a more simple style. Windows were left open a crack letting fresh air in. At times like these you could forget about everything.

The years passed and the bond between husband and wife started to crumble. A great toll was upheaving this family. Twelve years was but the link of an eyes to elves. For this family however, it dragged on. Every moment served to increase Curufinwë's rage and desire to avenge himself burned within. Like a disease it spread, its symptoms laying low the spirits of his heirs. Maitimo became sullen and the fire within seemed to flicker. The letters hailing from Tirion, where his beloved cousin Findecáno resided, remained unopened for days. When Maitimo finally did dare to gaze upon the contents they were for him only. Afterwards Maitimo would grow sullen once more and would disappear. Behind his back, although it brought guilt, you read its contents. It was the words of a cousin who missed his friend. He talked of times past and expressed joy in those to come. "I hope for further joy, so that all ill will become forgotten." He had written. Letters arrived from your sister as well. Airin was the closest in age to you, being only a few years your junior. Residing in the court of Anairë, Airin would provide information. King Nolofinwë ruled wisely and was much loved. Such tidings brought you no joy. Eru knew what Curufinwë might say. She was not the only one to bring information, Findecáno wrote to you as well, with affection that did little to curb a growing fear. He wished you well, that the days bring peace, but those words soothed not. There lingered an underlying anxiety to his words. Try as he might to cover it up.

"My dear daughter, we are well. But it would truly warm our hearts to know you too are well. Do not forget that all of us (yes, all of us) miss you dreadfully" Those letters remained in a safe wooden box. Sometimes you would read them when lonely. Even your brothers, who were a great many years younger, had written. Sadly, letters were no substitute for true company. Ilë, wife of Carnistir, was a good friend. But as time dragged on Ilë retreated and clung to her husband. Less and less she patrolled the halls, staying with her husband in solitude. Making friends with the other elf maidens, there was still a poignant loneliness. All they did was remind you of those left behind.

"It is merely your father's words, my love. Your uncle would never harm any of us." Your husband's anguish hurt you in turn. As a wife it was agonizing to know his pain and yet have no balm to heal the wound. Another one of Findecáno's letters lay forlornly on the bedside. Instead of bringing joy they served to torment. Maitimo was slumped against his chair by the windows. His bright blue eyes were focused on the mountains beyond. You stood beside him, fingers running through his red hair. For a while you said nothing. Gently you stroked his cheek which was unusually sallow. Leaning forward you kissed the cheek. Slightly, he leaned into your affection. "I know you will do what is right." Had those words strengthened him, or heaped on yet greater pressure onto Maitimo.

Everything changed when that great host left Valinor. You were left alone and exposed with no one to protect you. Everyone was either gone or wanted nothing to do with you. Maitimo had ordered those of his followers who stayed behind to protect you. But would they be able to? And could you, in good conscience, place those who were under your care into great danger? Thank Eru Arafinwë took pity on your condition. You had been barricaded in Formenos for fear when the youngest son of Finwë and his host came upon the fortress. To your surprise, he brought along Indis and Nerdanel. Despite your disgrace, they brought you with them to Tirion.

You sat on a bench with an outlook to the garden below. Despite its glamorous beauty, it brought you no joy. There was no light for the Two Trees had been utterly drained. It felt like divine providence, the trees set and your love as gone. Now it was dark as the hole in your heart. "Y/n, dear, you should no linger in the cold for so long. "Nerdanel stepped out onto the outlook. " Is it dinner already?" You drew your cloak tighter around yourself. Instinctively your hands cradled your ever expanding belly. "Yes. And Indis has prepared your favourite." At one times these temptations would have been rather tempting. But no food could fill you. Not now. "If not yourself then at least for him." "You are so certain?" Coming from Nerdanel the Wise the idea she might already know was not preposterous. Relenting, you got up. The baby was all you had left.

"And are we to forget that this woman chose to go into exile, against all common sense and decency." It was as you expected. Even with the new Lord of the Noldor beside you. It was Arafinwë's first council as leader (would that make him King now?) in the great halls. You remembered that last time you had been here. How Curufinwë unsheathed his sword and pointed it at his own brother. You recalled the horror and revulsion on the audience's face, and now all their eyes were on you. Every important lord and lady of Valinor were judging you. It hurt to know that some of them had once been your friends. Perhaps everything had been a lie. Your husband despised you and the rest of Valinor bore mistrusted.

"You forget, My Lord, that as a Princess and member of her lord husband's household, she was bound to follow him to whatever ends. It was only when it all became too much did Y/n depart from her husband. Her moral convictions won out, and despite their fëas being one she forsook him." Arafinwe's voice held a steely edge you had not yet heard before. The youngest son of Finwë was often misconceived as being shy, timid even. This was a misconception, he was simply quiet. Never should one misconstrue kindness for complacency. But one should never be complacent with the belief that silence means stupidity. Arafinwë stood up, white robes billowing behind him. You felt Nerdanel place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Have we fallen so far that we would attack a lonely woman? If we are to proceed with revenge in this matter, are we truly worthy to live amongst the Vala and Maia?' Some had the grace to look ashamed. Despite this, there were still some who had misgivings.

"My Lord, if I may speak." Lady Nimlothel served the house of Nolofinwë, more specifically it was his Lady wife she owed her allegiance to. With an elegant stride, she took the floor. "You may." Arafinwë answered, although his eyes looked wary. "The Lady Y/n is not responsible for her husband's ill deeds. Although I would like to add that Lady Nerdanel never fled into exile, a most wise decision. I suggest that the Lady Y/n retire, at least for a time. It would be unwise to allow such a remnant of Curufinwë's treachery to remain here." You felt so cold, so alone. They might not lock you up, but exile was little better. You would hide away, a forgotten remnant in a far off castle. An embarrassing chapter of Arda's history. Arafinwë sat down, troubled. "This council is dismissed. We shall convey at morning tomorrow."

"We may reside by my parent's hearth. They extend this offer to you too." Emmeril had bolted the chest shut. Sitting on a bed you watched Makalaurë's wife hastening departure. She along with Airin, wife of Curufinwë the Younger (your husband's brother) remained in Valinor. Ilë alone had departed, swearing to follow her husband Morifinwë, to whatever end. You prayed to Eru she would be well. Airin had long since departed. Saddened over the loss of husband and son she departed, destination unknown.

"My Lady, is that all?" One of Emmeril's handmaidens entered. "Take these out to the yard, then we depart." Once the handmaiden departed Emmeril turned to you. "What do you hope to accomplish by staying?" The bond between Emmeril and yourself had never been great. It was not personal dislike so much as never truly understanding one another. Emmeril was stern and hard, chafing against your soft and easy nature. But she had never been cruel or given you reason for mistrust. Emmeril's reasoning was wise in this matter. Leaving Tirion could allow you to start anew. You might have done so if it were not for the babe that dwelt within you. What sort of life would your child have? A permanent exile for the rest of their days? Could you even call yourself a mother while condemning a child to such a fate? Emmeril may think you a fool, and perhaps she was right to think so. But you would not reveal this secret to her. Now was not the time and frankly you were not ready.

Emmeril did not stay long, but departed for her family's home. You watched her go until the last of her horses were over the hill. The room suddenly felt colder, more forlorn. A choked sigh bordering on sobs left your mouth. At times like these you would have walked in the garden with Ilë. Only it was pitch black out and Ilë was gone. A soft knock at your door alerted you. Amarië swept in, pink silk trailing behind. "Y/n, Nerdanel wishes to give council." Rising up you followed Amarië. The hallway was obscured with shadows, torches providing ailing light. Even with windows barred shut you could still feel a draft. Even Amarië seemed to feel it, drawing her robe tighter. Every step echoed in these silent halls. Most had either fled Tirion or barricaded themselves in their rooms. Only guards remained patrolling the halls.

Nerdanel had taken quarters next to Queen Indis. Was Indis even still queen? Suspiciously guards regarded your presence. "Lady Nerdanel had sent for Lady Y/n. Queen Indis is aware." They let you in with a look of reluctance on their faces. The swords on their sides glimmered in the torchlight. Only a short time ago none dared to disregard the Valar's ordinance. Now none dared leave their rooms without protection. Such were these sad times. Nerdanel bore her usual attire, baggy brown pants and a white shirt. Her hair, Nerdanel had her back turn to you, was tied in a loose braid. Rubble and tools lay scattered. When Amarië cleared her throat Nerdanel seemed to finally take notice. "Lady Amarië, thank you." Amarië curtsied and made to leave. "Hold-" "I must depart. Lady Nerdanel wishes to speak to you in private." Now it was just Nerdanel and you. Nerdanel lightly kicked a hammer out of the way and picked up a tray. You smelt citrus and a hint of cinnamon. Sitting down you watched Nerdanel pour a cup of tea. "Care for some?" You nodded. You had the feeling this conversation was not simple idle chat.

Nerdanel did not beat around the bush. After a sip, her grey eyes focused on you. The look was not critical, but the one she adopted when an important topic was at hand. "I heard Emmeril offered you a place at her family home. Why did you not go?" She was not being critical, just inquiring. "I have never been close to Emmeril. It would be an intrusion on my part." Nerdanel poured another cup. "Will you remain here indefinitely?" "Nerdanel I do not know what to do. I am lost. In leaving I condemn myself and the baby to exile. In staying ill may come too, for those that support the Houses of Nolofinwë and Arafinwë have no love of Curufinwë's kin." Nerdanel reached out calloused hands, worn by years of her craft. Your own was not so smooth, for years of gardening had hardened the skin. "Fate may be kinder to you. Our king wishes to provide what help he can." The attempt was well made, yet still you remained unsettled. "My fate is solely in the hands of others. If I stay then it is another exile. I banish my freedom. Perhaps I should leave and lessen others' hold on me." Nerdanel's gaze went to your belly. If one was unaware they would not know. But soon it would swell and then what would happen then? Your family would be harboring a potential heir. Arafinwë was good and wise, but the actions others you must look to. Would they see the baby as a contender? If you stayed at court then an alliance could be built and no one could accuse you of hiding.

"Do what you think is best for yourself and the baby Y/n. But do not forget, make sure you stand on your own feet."

Note: This story has been in my drafts since September and was originally meant to be a one shot. A story surrounding the lives of those who stayed in Valinor is something I have been interested in for a while now. I am unsure how long this story will be. I will also be using the Quenya pronunciation for everyone's names unless canonically one is not provided. All the sons of Feanor use their mother-name except for Curufin.

While I use Jodie Comers face in the gifs and aesthetics for this story it is not meant to be a face claim. I simply like to use a certain character/acter's face in each series.

My OC's (the unnamed wives of the sons of Feanor) are my stand ins for the wives in every fanfic going forward. This is unless I write an x-reader involving one of the three married sons. In that case I will simply write them out. But going forward in this story and others they will exist. I intend to make character profiles for them at some point.

If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!

[knights-of-beleriand]

Celegorm and Aredhel for Valentine's day ❤️

What's better than having the lipstick of your lady all over you?

[cilil]

Day 4 ~ Friendship & Alliance

𓂃🖋 Characters/pairings: Celegorm x Aredhel 𓂃🖋 Synopsis: Aredhel has an idea for the next Feast of Horns. Celegorm is quite taken by it 𓂃🖋 Warnings: / 𓂃🖋 Oneshot (~550 words) | AO3

Tyelko, 

I have an idea for the next Feast of Horns. 

I assume I neither have to ask if you will be participating as well nor which role you are going to take — we will be hunters, of course — so: 

The best way to prove oneself as the best among the Hunters is to catch the greatest prey, and none could be greater than Lord Oromë himself. Yes, he will be among the Hunters as well most likely, and either of us may not be fast or strong enough, but together I bet we have a chance. 

Of course we could never overcome one of the Great Ones in battle, but thankfully Lord Manwë has decreed that no violence shall be used against one another. Why not take advantage of the Valar's own rules? 

It wouldn't be the first time a Hunter chose different game than the Hunted either, if I may remind you of certain incidents. 

Is the great Tyelkormo brave enough to join me on my quest? I would enlist the help of Artanis otherwise, though I would prefer to have a companion I am used to hunting with by my side. 

Let me know what you think. Írissë

Tyelkormo smirked to himself when he read the note Írissë had sent him, cleverly placed inside his quiver — hidden from unsuspecting eyes, yet a place he would undoubtedly check while readying his gear for the next hunt. 

Her suggestion was bold to say the least, but he had never been one to doubt or hesitate. In fact, the mere thought of hunting Oromë together with Írissë sent a rush of adrenaline through him — Tyelkormo could already imagine his surprise, likely followed by a graceful, benevolent acceptance of their challenge. The Huntsman of the Valar was not known to be overly formal, nor did he care much about rank and status; his hunters were his pack, his to protect and cherish, and they had taken advantage of his fondness for them before. 

Not to mention the admiration of their peers if they managed to take a trophy from him. Tyelkormo could already imagine making necklaces out of Oromë's antlers for himself and Írissë and how lovely they would look combined with the ones he had gifted them to wear for the hunt. 

Dropping his quiver and leaving his gear as it was, he pocketed the note and went back to his room to write a response. 

Írissë, 

I accept your challenge. You can count on me for both support and secrecy regarding your plan. 

Join me on a hunt before the Feast of Horns as soon as you can, so that we can talk in private and come up with a strategy. I shall postpone the one I had planned for that purpose. 

If you are thinking about possible strategies already — which I know you are, and I will be as well — do keep in mind that we may have to compete with Lady Vána too if she chooses to be part of the hunt, as she has done in past years. 

I am looking forward to hearing from you.  Tyelkormo 

Pleased with his response, Tyelkormo folded the paper. Today's trip would take him to his uncle's house instead, and he already knew where he was going to hide the note for Írissë to find. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

Note on names: While Celegorm is often known as Turko for short, due to his father-name Turcafinwë, I like to think that Aredhel at least prefers Tyelkormo and to shorten it instead (to Tyelko).

The Feast of Horns headcanons can be found here.

taglist: @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars

[thelien-art]

Aretyel for Valentine's Day maybe? :3

I had to try a few times, but I think they turned out okay.

VALENTINE REQUEST OPEN

[carmisse]

Of sentimental misfortune.

Celegorm, after Oromë, Aredhel and Dior : And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying.

Celegorm : Because I was born to be the other woman.

Celegorm : Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone, who had nothing, who wanted everything.

[ewa-jednak-chce-spac]

[stacytea]

Casually thinking about how in a modern au with Celery and Irisse as a couple, he would do all of the below in the order

(6) at some point he would also panic and call his sister-in-law (Curufin's wife) and she would tell him to buy some chocolate and everything's gonna be fine, so unable to decide what kind of chocolate would be best and not wanting to call again he'd just take all of them and show up at home after something like 4 hours with chocolate supply for next 3 months

Eol would be that type to see an unused tampon in the bathroom and make a drama about it because how dares she not hide that/not be ashamed of having body functions

[lyrainbeleriand]

Aredhel | Middle of the Night | Tolkien Fancast

Happy international women's day! Here's my tribute to my favourite silm woman and a vid for my friend 东篱‘s #daughtersofthegreat event, an ypiv vid for  aredhel and aredhel's ship (mainly with celegorm(+orome), galadriel, elenwe, turgon, eol and maeglin)

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Maedhros: Fingon kissed me!

Celegorm : Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Maedhros : It was unbelievable!

Maglor: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Caranthir: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Curvo, get the wine and unplug the phone. Maedhros, does this end well or do we need tissues?

Maedhros : Oh, it ended VERY well!

Maglor: Do not start without me! Do not start without me!

Celegorm : Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing?

Maedhros: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it.

Curufin: Ohh... So, okay, was he holding you? Or were his hands on your back?

Maedhros : First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair!

Everyone: tell us more, more!

*meanwhile*

Fingon: And, uh, and then I kissed him.

Aredhel: Tongue?

Fingon: Yep.

Aredhel: Cool.

[witchofhimring]

To you who is lost (Masterlist) Coming soon!

Synopsis:

They tell the story of the men and handful of women who left Valinor, out of bliss and into woe. But this is the tale of those they left behind. Their wives and daughters lament alongside the Valar in their grief. They may fight no battles, but their trials are just as heartbreaking.

One of these women is Y/n. Already an outsider in this family Y/n finds herself an outsider in the court of Finarifin. Her husband and father-in-laws actions are condemned her. Although Prince Finarfin supports her Y/n must find a way to stand on her own accord.

Pairings: Maedhros x Reader

(Minor) Maglor x OC, Celegorm x Aredhel, Feanor x Nerdanel, Curufin x OC, Caranthir x OC, Fingolfin x Anaire, Finrod x Amarie, Finarfin x Earwen

Warnings: angst, abandonment, mentions of divorce, pregnancy, childbirth

Chapters:

Duty is the death of love

The girl with daisies

Throw up those stone walls

More to come!

[knights-of-beleriand]

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆,𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈,𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓'𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓, 𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆

𝑴𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒅

This might be one of my favourite photos ever, because it simple captures what is real for us.

This tension,those feelings,when you don't need to pretend anything.

I feel blessed to have these emotions captured in a picture.

Write me in the comments,what this photo brings out for you?

[lamemaster]

Trade Worth an Afternoon

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Nolofinwean + Celegorm x Sister Reader

Summary: Ambarussar = 1 Y/n?

AN: My soul said, "WRITE THIS SHIT RN!!"

“Hmm why yes Celgorm, of course, we can come to an agreement,” Aredhel drawled carefully, her voice laced with amusement as she glanced away from where you and Argon sat, engrossed in your toys.  Her eyes twinkled with mischief, a stark contrast to the seriousness of the "trade negotiations" she was proposing.

Stifling a laugh that threatened to erupt, Celegorm replied, playing along.  “2 Ambrussa for 1 y/n.  That is fair trade, Aredhel.”  His voice held a hint of playful arrogance, knowing full well the absurdity of bartering with children.

The mention of your name pierced through your concentration, and you looked up from your game of blocks with wide, curious eyes.  Argon, ever the follower, followed suit, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“You are right, perhaps,” Aredhel conceded with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she turned her attention to you directly.  “What do you think, little y/n?  Do you want to become Celegorm’s sister?”

A small patter of feet echoed across the polished stone floor as both you and Argon scrambled towards your sister and cousin. “No. I am your sister,” you declared bluntly, your voice clear and unwavering.

“Yes, y/n is our sister,” Argon parroted, his voice echoing yours in a perfect unison.  The pair of you, oblivious to the undercurrent of amusement between your elders, stood side-by-side, a united front against this unexpected proposition.

Pulling Argon into a playful embrace, Aredhel feigned a dramatic sigh.  “But you have a sister, me.  Now Celegorm and his brothers don’t have one.  Why don’t we share, just like amil taught us?” 

Argon, ever his mother’s pet and easily swayed by her gentle words, was instantly caught in a moral dilemma.  His brow furrowed as he deliberated, torn between wanting to please both his mother and his best friend.  “No… but,” he stammered, his voice laden with worry as he looked back at you with a helpless expression.

You, however, were not so easily swayed.  You set your jaw with a determination that belied your age and glared at Celegorm, who was trying his best to stifle another laugh.  “I won’t go,” you declared fiercely. 

Celegorm, caught off guard by your outburst, hoisted you into his arms with a playful rumble.  "And why not, y/n?" he teased, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You flailed your limbs in protest, the urge to pull his hair warring with the ticklish sensation his leather cuffs sent against your skin.

"Finno and Turu won't allow this!" you sputtered, glaring back at him with narrowed eyes.  "And ata loves me more than Aredhel!"  This last declaration was more of a desperate hope than a statement of fact, but it served its purpose. Aredhel's smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something akin to annoyance crossing her features.

As for Argon, the very notion of being separated from you sent him into a silent panic.  He looked mortified at the idea of sharing his room with the rambunctious Fëanorian twins, even more mortified at the prospect of leaving his unfinished drawing and the half-built block castle behind.  With a whimper, he tugged on Aredhel's sleeve, his lower lip trembling.  "No, y/n is my sister," he echoed your words, shaking his head vehemently as if denying the very possibility of the trade.

"Uncle Nolofinwe and my father already agreed," Celegorm declared smugly, a broad grin splitting his face. "Unfortunately, y/n, you will be now our sister."

His words hit you like a thunderbolt. Your eyes widened in shock, threatening to spill tears at any moment. "No!" you cried, your voice trembling like a leaf in a winter wind. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I'm Argon's sister! We promised Amil we'd finish building our castle together! And besides," you hiccuped, rubbing your eyes "Ambarussar are too big for my bed. They won't fit!"

Argon, mirroring your distress, began to wail. He clung to Aredhel, his tiny fists clutching at her tunic. "No! No y/n go!" he sobbed, his voice thick with tears.

"And when my brothers and I return from our next adventure," Celegorm continued adding fuel to the fire in his chaotic ways, "y/n will come with us.”

Argon, his lower lip trembling, clutched you desperately. His only playmate, his confidante. Galadriel was too smart to play with on normal days. 

The room erupted in chaos. You, fueled by a sudden surge of adrenaline, wriggled free from Celegorm's surprised grasp.  "Never!" you screamed, bolting towards the nearest exit. 

Argon, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, followed close behind, his small legs pumping furiously.

Fingolfin, his face a mask of thunder, stood before Aredhel and Celegorm, both of whom shuffled uncharacteristically on their feet. The usual twinkle in their eyes was replaced with a dull sheepishness.

"What did you do?"  Fingolfin's voice boomed.

"Well..." Aredhel began, her usual silver tongue failing her.  Celegorm, notorious for his smooth talk, coughed awkwardly, unable to meet Fingolfin's steely gaze.

And for once both Aeredhel and Celegorm were at a loss for their words. The prank…perhaps had been too harsh. The flushed faces of both Fingon and Turgon, who had spent the entire evening looking both you both were enough to answer that it indeed had been too much. 

And thus, the product of their prank lay in Fingolfin and Anaire's laps. Both you and Argon slept peacefully, your faces streaked with tears that had dried on your cheeks.

"Aredhel," Turgon's voice was a low rumble, devoid of its usual playful teasing. "We scoured the entire city for y/n and Argon. The entire afternoon."  His gaze, usually warm, was now icy with disapproval.

Fingon, his hand resting protectively on your head, patted Turgon's arm in a silent plea for calm.  "What did you even say for them to hide so fiercely?" he asked, his voice stern but tinged with relief.  "They ran away the moment they saw me and Turgon, then vanished for the entire day." Fingon usually retained the position of the most loved sibling for all Nolofinwean siblings.

"Y/n even hid all her belongings, and neither of them showed up for their evening snacks."

This last detail struck a deeper chord.  Evening snacks with Fingolfin were a cherished ritual for the younger members of the family, a time for stories and laughter.  That they would skip it willingly was a testament to the terror they must have felt.

“It was merely a jest,” Aredhel tries to weasel her way out of the situation. 

"A jest?" Turgon echoed, his voice tight with contained fury. "An entire afternoon of frantic searching constitutes a jest to you, Aredhel?"

Anaire, her face pale with worry, finally spoke. "They haven't said a word since we found them," she said, her voice trembling slightly.  "They were huddled together under their bed sobbing hysterically. What did you do to them?"

"We told them that we were going to trade y/n for the twins," Aredhel admitted, her voice barely a whisper. 

The room fell silent for a beat, thick with tension that quickly dissolved into an eruption of laughter. Fingon and Fingolfin, unable to contain themselves, doubled over, snorting with amusement. Even Anaire, despite her initial glare, found a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Finwe's crooked humor, it seemed, wasn't lost on his bloodline.

"Oh, my poor darlings," Anaire cooed, leaning down to kiss your and Argon's foreheads, a soft smile gracing her features. "That must have been terrifying. But you two managed to hide quite well.” While both the said, elflings barely stirred in their sleep.

Aredhel, relieved by the shift in atmosphere, puffed out her chest with a hint of pride. "They were! We even had them convinced Uncle Curufinwe and Ata were in on it."

Before she could revel in her mischievousness any further, Turgon, ever the serious one, swatted her playfully on the back of the head.

And that is how the infamous story of trading siblings came to be in the Finwean clan. One that often left a sputtering mess of Celegorm and Aredhel. And a slightly offended Ambarussar.

[polutrope]

And:

30. Embarrassing childhood videos // with celegorm + aredhel <3 thank you!!!

Thank you for the prompt! Here's a little something from my Modern AU Holiday Prompts. 1.2k, Rated G, No warnings except a little swearing.

“How disappointing!” Nerdanel said as they stepped out into the crisp evening air. “I was really looking forward to that film.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you go to the indie theatres, mom. Their equipment is shit.”

Aredhel elbowed Celegorm in the ribs.

Ignoring him, Nerdanel inhaled deeply with a contented smile on her face. “The night is young and I have the rare pleasure of my son’s company. I had seven of you, you’d think it wouldn’t be so difficult to spend with one of you, and yet — oh, and you, Aredhel! I am so glad to have you back around.”

“Mom, please.”

“What? I am. So! What should we do instead?”

Celegorm gave Aredhel a look that suggested he’d been hoping the cancelled showing of The Helcaraxë Express would mean the evening with his mother, which she had been doggedly trying to make happen for weeks — ever since little Celebrimbor let slip to grandma that uncle Celegorm was seeing “that loud short lady with the poufy hair” again — was likewise cancelled.

“Oh, I know!” said Nerdanel, setting an affectionate hand on Aredhel’s shoulder. “Why don’t you two come over to watch a movie at our place? I’ll give you a ride home after. Or homes, if you prefer.” She winked at Aredhel.

A panicked look seized Celegorm’s face. “Uh, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Don’t worry, your father is at the office with Rúmil working on that app, he won’t be home until midnight. At the earliest.”

Aredhel looped her arm through Celegorm’s and grinned. “That sounds wonderful, Nerdanel.”

*

Aredhel surveyed the foyer of the elegant home. It was more modest than the Fëanorian’s hillside mansion in Valin, though of course located in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods in Beleria on the very edge of the city.

“Would you two like something to drink?” Nerdanel called from the kitchen. “I’ve got wine, scotch, brandy, vodka… I could make a cocktail if you like? And I think we have some eggnog, let me see… Oh, there’s these beers the twins left behind on their last visit, I know you like beer.”

As he removed his boots, Celegorm muttered under his breath, “I’m sure as hell not drinking that college kid swill.” He slanted Aredhel a knowing smile, then called in answer: “Scotch, please. Neat.”

“For me also,” said Aredhel. “Thank you.”

They relocated to the living room, where Celegorm sprawled on the leather couch in a failed attempt to appear at ease. Aredhel probably shouldn’t have found it endearing that when it came to the tactics he employed to cover up discomfort, he’d hardly changed in five years.

“You okay?” she asked, and perched on the armrest beside him.

“Fine,” he said.

“You know, you should be grateful that I can see right through your insecure bullshit,” she said lightly, “or I’d already have dumped you again. Stop being an ass to your mom.”

“Thank you, Aredhel,” said Nerdanel, entering through the archway with scotch glasses in hand. “You always were a good influence on him.”

Celegorm groaned, but apologised as he accepted the drink from his mother.

Nerdanel slid open one side of the credenza under the giant wall-mounted TV to reveal three packed shelves of DVDs. Aredhel could sense Celegorm biting back a remark on the antiquated technology, and when he managed to say nothing, she gave his bicep a congratulatory squeeze.

“Hmm.” Nerdanel scanned the collection a moment then sprang up from her crouch. “Aredhel, why don’t you pick something for us? I’ll make some popcorn.”

“I can make the popcorn,” Celegorm offered, and traipsed into the kitchen. It brought back memories of a tall, handsome, and enchantingly unromantic 21-year-old not-so-casually strolling off when he caught sight of the campus police rounding the corner of the old chemistry building, where they used to pregame Friday nights with a six pack of Losgar Light (now referred to as “college kid swill”).

Nerdanel exchanged a pleased smile with Aredhel, who plopped herself down cross-legged in front of the credenza. As soon at the popcorn maker began to whir, Nerdanel said, “You’re an angel for taking him back.”

Aredhel grunted with amusement. “Well, let’s just say I’ve learned that I could do far worse.”

Nerdanel’s comportment tensed. “I’m really sorry about all that.”

“Thanks,” Aredhel said as she scanned the movie titles. “Don’t worry too much about it though. I got custody of Lómion — and I wouldn’t give him up to change any of it.” She cast a smile Nerdanel’s way. “Celegorm’s good with him.”

Nerdanel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear it. I’d love to meet him sometime. If you ever need a babysitter! I mean, I’m sure your mother can’t get enough of him, but I do miss having little ones around, and Tyelpë, oof, that kid has attitude and energy— well, you know of course…” She trailed off. “So, do you see anything you like?”

Aredhel released a relieved breath. Nerdanel sure could babble, but she had always been good at sensing when a person didn’t want to continue with a topic (which wasn’t to say that she didn’t often persist to spite them, particularly if the person was a son of hers).

“Hmm.” Aredhel’s eyes landed on a set of plain white DVDs with handwritten titles: Formenos Christmas (1998-2004); Taniquetil Ski Trips (1992-1996); Cáno Recitals; Nelyo and Cáno Equestrian; Tyelko Hockey &— Aredhel squinted to make out the next word —Figure Skating.

“What?” she said aloud, and instinctively reached for this last one. A photo had been slotted into the sleeve: A skinny, gap-toothed Celegorm, grinning in his tight sparkling red leotard with gold-fringed epaulettes, hands on his hips and one skate-clad foot daintily extended.

“Oh my god,” said Aredhel, and turned to Nerdanel with her mouth hanging open. “What is this?”

“Oh!” Nerdanel laughed. “That was Nutcracker on Ice!”

“Celegorm did figure skating?” Aredhel asked, her brows climbing higher up her forehead.

At that moment Celegorm reentered the room, one huge bowl of popcorn in each hand. “Okay ladies, you can stop talking about me now—” he froze, looking concernedly between Aredhel and his mother, whose expressions were quivering with contained merriment. “Wait, you were actually talking about me, weren’t you?”

Aredhel flashed the DVD cover. “How did I not know you were a ballet dancer?”

The tips of Celegorm’s ears immediately pinkened. “Not ballet. Skating. You knew I skated.” Popcorn leapt from one of the bowls as Celegorm set it forcefully on the coffee table and fell back onto the couch.

“I know you played hockey, I did not know you twirled around on ice in shiny body suits.”

“That’s enough. Put that away. What are we watching?”

“Oh, we are definitely watching this. And afterwards,” Aredhel pulled out another title, “Formenos Christmas?”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Nerdanel clapped. “I haven’t seen those in ages.”

Celegorm groaned and sank deeper into the cushions.

[carmisse]

Celegorm the Fair.

Vána : Your beauty is beyond compare with shining locks of silver hair with ivory skin and eyes of emerald green.

Eöl : Your smile is like a breath of spring your voice is soft like summer rain and I cannot compete with you Celegorm.

Nimloth : He talks about you in his sleep and there's nothing I can do to keep from crying when he calls your name Celegorm.

Celegorm : ...

[ewa-jednak-chce-spac]

Congratulations to Caspian x Susan fans

Your ship won with Celegorm x Aredhel in my second true ultimate shipping tournament and advanced to the fourth round!

Celegorm x Aredhel fans, don’t weep, because your ship remains awesome!

[atane-is-here]

In the sea the fish have learned to fly

On a moonlit night on wings of silver

As the enchanted stars sail serenely by

Painting of @lady-ar-feiniel and their partner