#cuarthol

[toastedbuckwheat]

Commission for @cuarthol of Celegorm getting tended to by his cruel servants~~~

Please check out the fic on which this is based!

[maironsbigboobs]

Since Cuarthol isn't your preferred ship, who *do* you prefer for both Beleg and Túrin?

I don't really have like one ultimate ship for Beleg, I could ship him with anyone LOL but I mostly like Beleg/Androg and Beleg/Mablung

Turin - well, Orodreth, naturally. I'm a convert. Apart from that I don't really have any shipping preferences for him he doesn't give me romance vibes.

[emyn-arnens]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

🥰 thank you

Thanks for the ask! 💕 Here's a bit of my Andreth and Aegnor reunion in the Halls WIP:

The tapestries' images seemed to move, if she looked at them long enough, and she was certain they showed glimpses of the history of Men—and perhaps Elves, too, for some of the images resembled the stories Aegnor and Finrod had once shared with her.  There, perhaps, in deep blues and white, was their flight and long wandering upon the Ice. And there, in threads of scarlet, the day so many of their kin had been slain upon the long quays of marble and crushed pearl, and the waves had washed the shores with blood-red foam. Aegnor and Finrod had spoken little of that day when recounting the history of their people to her, but Andreth had read in their hollow eyes and averted gazes what they had not spoken with words, and now she read the rest of the tale in the stark threads before her. Sorrow pierced the tapestry like thorns.

For every "🌹" received in my inbox I'll post one random sentence of a random WIP I'm currently writing.

[lentilmento]

There called he longing: '0 Beleg, my brother, 0 Beleg, tell me where is buried thy body in these bitter regions? ' --and the echoes always him answered 'Beleg'; yet a veiled voice vague and distant he caught that called like a cry at night o'er the sea's silence: 'Seek no longer. My bow is rotten in the barrow ruinous; my grove is burned by grim lightning; here dread dwelleth, none dare profane this angry earth, Orc nor goblin; none gain the gate of the gloomy forest by this perilous path; pass they may not, yet my life has winged to the long waiting in the halls of the Moon o'er the hills of the sea. Courage be thy comfort, comrade lonely!

- The Lays of Beleriand, J.R.R. Tolkien

[solmarillion]

beleg isn't a himbo, he's just morosexual. you'd fall for túrin too, admit it

[tengwar]

Beleg providing his emotional support fail human with a nap

[polutrope]

heya! For the smut ask: 16. What do you think is the sexiest part of actual Tolkien canon? Inclusive of the books, onscreen depictions, etc. 

<3

How could it be anything other than this passage from Lay of Leithian Recommenced?

Daeron the dark with ferny crown played on his pipes with elvish art unbearable by mortal heart. No other player has there been no other lips or fingers seen so skilled, ‘tis said in elven-lore, save Maelor son on Fëanor.

No other lips or fingers seen... need I say more?

Okay, but also every description of Feanor or Turin 🥵.

[bisognamorire]

Full View below or on AO3

This work depicts 100% consensual acts between Túrin and Beleg.

[quixoticanarchy]

At last!!! Someone else who hates 'wet' eggs!! I love all the eggs but yes please finish cooking them first!🥚💖

we're the only correct people in the world 😔

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

#dang it do i have a new oc now

Sounds like!! I'd love to hear more if you've got it!

(referring to my tags on this post)

You will meet a stranger, sometimes, if you make a habit to frequent taverns, inns, halls for game, or even the one tree where the young Bracegirdle cousins sneak off to play marbles. Well, you will like as not meet many strangers, except in the last case, but this one will be different. Or perhaps you get lucky, and don't frequent such places, but find yourself in one unexpectedly, and meet them regardless.

Everyone in Gondor knows someone who knows someone who met Lady Luck, no one has met her themself. If you do, starry-eyed romantics say, you'll be blessed with good fortune for all your days. The pragmatists tell you you'll be blessed with the good sense to discern a scam.

He may smirk at you after winning a bet, some dark-haired man, using his earnings to buy a round for the bar. It's always a different man, but it always goes to Alwed's tab. It keeps the crowd from getting too rowdy, even if the more superstitious get on edge.

No one remembers meeting them the first time, but dwarves with common sense avoid Audr's shell games and silver-toothed smile- you always win, but it's never worth it.

A woman with greying-gold hair and stiff fingers might call herself Eadrun, and challenge you to a game of dice. Few decline, and far fewer win.

For as few elves remain in Middle Earth, the one who calls himself Herendil and laughs as though his name is a joke should be recognizable. He seems young and lighthearted in a way most have lost, but he will play you cards, win just as much as he loses, and disappear, never recognized.

A hobbit-lass may giggle, red curls gleaming in the sun, and introduce herself as Peony Sandheaver, her family is visiting from Bree, and she wants to see how Shire-hobbits play Jacks.

Sometimes an orc prays over a set of knucklebones, knowing that at least one god will hear one prayer. Orcs have little luck in battle, but uncanny luck with dice.

There are countless stories, just as many true as not. Countless names, far more unnamed figures, always just out of place enough wherever they are to be interesting and promise new tales, never enough to provoke suspicion, not at first.

Even those in the Blessed Realm may find this dark-eyed stranger. Always dark-eyed, like bottles of dark glass. They stop by Aulë's workshop on occasion, to learn and suggest and play new games. They never win the first round, but most have the sense not to bet anything they aren't willing to lose on the second.

Oromë's people call them Umbarnica with a laugh and a toast in welcome. They thrive in the drunken revels after a successful hunt, sharp as ever as they dance from game to game, cackling at ill-advised propositions offered as collateral for or against a bet. Usually this means them winning to avoid it, a frequent enough occurrence as-is, but every now and then they'll decide to let someone get lucky. The bragging rights are the real reward.

And there are no guarantees with this stranger. No way to ensure their favor, though many ways to get their attention, few good. They like irony, take pleasure in hubris reaching its fall. They love superstition, even if they don't always honor it, and they love stories. There are gods that can be mistaken for kind, they are not one of them, created to serve the king the Dark Lord could have been. Their favorites are fickle, their grudges subtle but long-held. They love cheaters, unless they're at the end of the attempt. They will always catch you, and you will always regret it. They slink through candle-shadows and pipe-smoke, grinning, dance in town squares turned to faire grounds, curl up on comfy chairs indoors on rainy days.

But sometimes, in these days, you won't meet a stranger at all. Sometimes your storyteller will get a bright-dark glint in their eyes, and some dice will roll strangely high and some dice will roll strangely low and either way the story will be better for it. And if the next time the group meets you need to take a moment to remind the storyteller exactly what happened last session, well. That's why you take notes.

So pray to the dice-god, card-master, quick-sighted. It might do you no good, but they love superstition, and they love stories. And when you play a dark-eyed stranger, don't cheat at cards.

[alackofghosts]

For the horrible MS paint art request: an Aegnor with canon-accurate hair: "while his hair was notable: golden like his brothers and sister, but strong and stiff, rising upon his head like flames." (bonus but not required if Andreth is in the pic, too) 💖

[arizonapoppy]

Hihi

For the WIP ask: blue, hot, & slide 😁

Thank you!

Hi, @cuarthol ! Some of these I had to dig into some WIPs in time-out to find! Thank you for the ask!

Blue

Its warm orange light played over the glassy blue and yellow and white tiles embedded in the white plaster-lined hearth.

Hot

As she took her first sip of hot sweet tea, sweet enough to make her teeth hurt, she realized how much she had become accustomed to life here in Little Ethir.

Slide

If only [name] was in all your classes to make them interesting, except that you needed to focus in your major classes, not have his whispered cut-up comments on the slide ids at the beginning of class.

[emyn-arnens]

I am so utterly behind on reading but I'm glad it made you smile! As an author I know we love every comment however small but as a reader I know we feel obligated to leave worthwhile comments so thank you for appreciating my emoji dumps 🥰

I was just about to send you an ask saying again how much I appreciated your comments! It really did brighten my day to see all those AO3 emails. 🥰 And same here—I always feel like I should leave a meaty comment but as a writer I love them all, in whatever form they take. ❤️

[lentilmento]

His mind once more was meshed in darkness as heaped they high o'er the head beloved a mound of mould and mingled leaves. Light lay the earth on the lonely dead; heavy lay the woe on the heart that lived, and his face and form, not faded ever.

- The Lays of Beleriand, J.R.R. Tolkien

[solmarillion]

cúarthol in a nutshell: beleg wants to make love, túrin wants to fuck

[i-did-not-mean-to]

It's unfortunate that we actually have so little information about him that it's hard to form a firm opinion. I have tried to find a sympathetic angle to his character, but I honestly can't think of any real mitigating circumstances in terms of his attempt to murder his own son. It makes it very hard. I have written him very little and that's likely because I can't quite get a handle on him.

Even so, there is nothing at all that says I cannot enjoy other people's takes on a character even if I don't share them myself (true of all of them, really!) :)

I agree 100%.

I am not sure how I personally feel about him, tbh! Nevertheless, I pride myself on being able to write things for anyone--I think I can find a sympathetic angle for most characters.

@violecov has indulged me in my pitch of Eöl x Saeros (common interests include dark forests, startling people, throwing things at people, cliff diving, etc).

Somewhere between misguided sympathy and utter crack, there is a little house. Inside lives a tiny pink noodle dragon, going by the name IDNMT.

Thank you for your kind words; this is the first time anyone asked for Eöl (other than the time I murdered him in cold blood for Aredhel/Celegorm).

It was a delight to write <3