#curumo is confused

[atane-is-here]

@ainurweek day 2

Curumo / The music of the Ainur

Since the begining Curumo has contemplated his role in the music. He had sung with Aule but the discord had swept him up in confusion until he could hear nothing else. Then in his desperation he joined in. He keeps this to himself. He tries to make sense of what it means for him to be marred like this and opposes Melkor even more fiercely. As he worries his thoughts take shapes of many colors.

[mirra-kan]

"Who would go? For they must be mighty, peers of Sauron, but must forgo might, and clothe themselves in flesh so as to treat on equality and win the trust of Elves and Men. But this would imperil them, dimming their wisdom and knowledge, and confusing them with fears, cares, and weariness coming from the flesh." But two only came forward: Curumo, who was chosen by Aulë, and Alatar, who was sent by Oromë. - Unfinished Tales of Numenor and Middle-Earth -

Close up from my upcoming artwork <3 Work in progress!

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Luminous rebellion

Thanks to @cilil, I sink deeper and deeper into the pit of despair of this ship...

Nevertheless, it was a joy and an honour to write this for my friend for the July Summer stories :D

Words: 785

Characters: Curumo x Aiwendil, Aulë

Prompt: Evenings

Warnings: Sweaty man?

Curumo shook his head impatiently, sending tiny drops of perspiration flying in a haphazard pattern onto his cluttered workbench.

"Why are you still here?" Aulë asked, confused. He had encouraged his apprentices and workers to take the day off as it was a particularly glorious one.

"Why are you not paying homage to my wife's work by strolling through verdant meadows and observing long-legged deer graze peacefully?"

Barely taking the time to give his master an impatient look, Curumo rolled his shoulders and focused on this last, vital part of his work.

He could hear Aulë's heavy foot tapping the plain flooring of the forge impatiently.

"I have something to finish," he grunted and turned his attention back to the task at hand.

If Mairon had not made a major fuss by arriving late and dishevelled, he would already be done, Curumo thought, fighting down the flutter of nerves that made his stomach roil uncomfortably.

"There is someone waiting for you, I think," Aulë added in a muted tone. After having observed the handiwork of the young Maia for a time, he had finally understood what tremendously important work had kept him inside when their very essence was inexorably drawn to the wild outdoors.

"I know," Curumo moaned. He was late, he was so terribly late. He had promised Aiwendil that they would go down to the stream he so loved, and he had planned every moment of this day so meticulously that impuissant rage threatened to choke him as he realised how much of a mess he had made of things.

Undoubtedly, that nervous, endearing bundle of insecurities and sweet affection was already declaring him a lost cause. He would not leave though, Curumo knew, because Aiwendil was nought if not steadfast and patient. He deserved better!

This thought spurred Curumo on more than all the bright light and warm air in Valinor could have—he would not let Aiwendil doubt his word or his own worth!

When he had finally finished, his master gave him an appreciative nod. "That is well executed," Aulë praised, "now, go!"

All but running out of the forge, Curumo forgot about the deplorable state his hair and clothes were in; all he could think about was that Aiwendil was waiting unwaveringly and that he himself had solemnly promised not to desert him.

"Oh dear," Aiwendil cried out when he caught sight of the harried, wild-eyed expression on the other's face as he slithered into the clearing where they usually met. "I didn't want to keep you from important work. I am sorry!"

"Don't," Curumo barked breathlessly. "It is I who should be sorry for being so unpardonably tardy. Where are we headed then?"

When Aiwendil didn't move but only stared at him, nervous and visibly undecided, Curumo confessed that he had been looking forward to this outing all day.

He would never have admitted as much out loud, but nothing quite compared to seeing Aiwendil in his element—peaceful, calm, and enchantingly happy—and Curumo couldn't wait to witness that profound change in the usually so fretful and scurrying demeanour once more.

"Here," he said gruffly, pushing his brand-new creation, still hot from the welding, into Aiwendil's shaking hands. "I've made it for you, because...I don't want you to get lost."

It took a moment until Aiwendil managed to pry his admirative gaze from the strong, imperious Maia in front of him, but when he dropped it to the surprisingly heavy present, he couldn't swallow down a gasp of astonishment and deep-felt emotion.

"Oh," he whispered, tracing the intricate lines of the small lantern tenderly.

"I know that you follow your feathered and furry friends deep into the woods," Curumo explained awkwardly, "and I think that it's rather dangerous."

He could see that Aiwendil initially wanted to object and then thought better of it.

"That is ever so kind," he squeaked instead, "let me grab a candle and we can take it down to the stream, so we don't have to be back quite so early."

Curumo cocked one eyebrow—as far as he was concerned, they could stay out all night, watching the light change and the fireflies dance, but he had not expected Aiwendil to be willing to so blatantly disregard the rules of decency and the prescriptions of their respective Valar.

"I will send someone to let Lady Yavanna know," Aiwendil smiled patiently. "She'll understand."

Throwing a puzzled gaze back into the direction of the forge, Curumo nodded absent-mindedly. Yes, he thought, maybe she would.

"Well," he then said, pulling a candle out of his trouser pocket, "if Mairon can come and go as he pleases, I don't see why we couldn't. Lead the way."

@fellowshipofthefics here's the next one.

Lots of love and all my gratitude to @cilil 💖💖💖

[urwendii]

Maiar headcanons in my verse:

- slit pupils!!! Ainur wear elven/human raiment, but when in Aman their ainurin features still show through. Their ears are also slightly different but barely. And theyre taller than elves.

- Aulë’s Maiar all have the same golden like eyes he has.

- Valarin is still spoken amongst them when there are no Elves around.

- there's a pub in Valimar called The Two Lamps where Maiar like to hang out after work.

- after Mairon left Valinor, the rest of Aulë’s Maiar secretly traded a lot of his stuff amongst each other. Despite the rumours he has betrayed them for Melkor they were still revering his work and a lot of his possessions end up as secret collectibles. (Curumo was especially obsessed with finding secrets on how to become as skilled as Mairon.)

- after Ossë came back from Melkor, many thought that Uinen could do better (Ossë laughs it off bc frankly he agrees)

- everyone knows Tillion has a huge crush on Arien. Everyone knows Arien had a crush on Mairon. No one mentions it though. All Maiar are a little infatuated with Arien too. (I feel them. *dreamy sigh*)

- After an incident involving the accidental creation of a lake and forest in the middle of Valimar, Maiar are no longer allowed at elvish Karaoke nights. (The lake was later removed by Ulmo and Yavanna relocated the small forest in her pastures.) Material damage included the collapse of 2 buildings (Calaimë swore he saw Ossë aiming at the one where Eönwë lives in on purpose.) And a very confused group of Elves wondering why their bar had suddenly vanished.

- Eönwë's daily duties do bring him to Tirion and Valimar every day and is the main delegate between Manwë and Eldarin governments.

[atanes-universe]

Sav´s Universe

First page/ <last/ next>

[thepromisedbride]

Mairon: Isn’t it funny how everyone is like background characters in other people’s stories?

Mairon, betraying Aulë to become the lieutenant of Melkor: Except me of course because I’m sexy and important. But like, all of you guys

[witchkings]

A Very Angbang Advent #1

When Mairon discovers that his fiancé has lived a life without cheesy holiday traditions, he decides he has to change that. Hellbent on showing Melkor the meaning of Christmas, Mairon drags him through a December that is filled with decorating, cookie baking, awkward encounters and so much Christmas music that Melkor's ears will bleed by the end of it. Melkor, grumpy and annoyed, has trouble making sense of it all.

-Modern AU Angbang Advent Calendar

Read on AO3

Wednesday, December 1, 2021

Mairon stood on the balcony of the first floor of the house he and Melkor had bought only this summer, and watched a late sunrise glitter on the soft snow that had fallen below. It bordered on a miracle, the fact that he had woken up to a world covered in powdered white on the first day of December. Snow was rare where they lived, let alone this early into the season, but he embraced it with a wistful smile and held his coffee closer to his chest to warm his heart and cold fingers. He had added a shot of chocolate syrup to it and a Christmas carol balanced precariously on his lips as his stomach fluttered with holiday joy.

He wasn’t usually a gleeful person, not sentimental or nostalgic, but Christmas unlocked something in him. He remembered endless afternoons on the couch with his brothers Curumo and Aiwendil, their father Aule reading advent stories to them, their mother Yavanna baking cinnamon stars and vanilla biscuits. Their fingers stained orange from peeling mandarins, their excitement crackling like the flames in the hearth, the magic on the air so ripe, Mairon could taste it. They had always done the whole range, singing carols, going to church, shopping for and wrapping presents, partaking in their school’s play. The list went on and on and Mairon’s lips curled into a smile as he remembered these sacred spots of time in his life. He pushed aside the sundering of his family, those dark years that threatened to spoil the memories. These, at least, he would retain.

Alright, so Christmas traditions counted among his weak spots, but Mairon wasn’t ashamed by that. It was part of who he was and even though he had long distanced himself from those people, had moved as far away from his hometown as the country borders would allow him and was engaged to one of the country’s most unscrupulous stock brokers, head of the insidious firm by name of Utumno, Mairon still valued what was ingrained into his soul. As soon as December hit, it was all out glitter, cookies and mistletoes for Mairon. He only hoped that Melkor saw it the same way. Last year, Mairon had been out of the country for the season, on a business trip to Europe for the investment bank, Angband, he worked at and that had broken his spirit a little, which was why he intended to make up for it this year. He smiled and watched the fiery colors play out over the horizon even as his breath puffed in front of his face, swirling with the steam of his overly sweetened milky brew. It wasn’t long before Melkor stepped out with him, mumbling sleepily, with a mug of plain black coffee clutched in his hand. He wrapped one bulky arm around Mairon and pulled him back against his chest, then buried his face against Mairon’s neck.

“Why on earth are you up?” he said gruffly and Mairon took the hand that rested on his belly, entwined their fingers. It was a rhetorical question, Mairon always got up at six which meant that today, he had already gone for a run and insulted several parents who brought their spawn to school before the sun had even dared to peek over the horizon. He laughed softly.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Wednesday?” Melkor asked, snuggling even closer. His morning arousal pressed insistently against Mairon’s bottom and his own body heat rose to it, but he couldn’t afford the distraction. He had a presentation due at work today and about a hundred meetings and then he would have to make a plan to make the most out of this Christmas season. His skull brimmed with ideas.

“It’s the first day of December. Which means…”

“What does it mean Mairon?” Melkor’s hand slipped out of Mairon’s and lower, towards the waistband of Mairon’s slacks and he would have allowed the roaming to continue on any other day, but as it was, he had to shoo Melkor away. The reply was an irritated huff that gusted hotly against Mairon’s skin. He sighed.

“Christmas, you oaf, ‘tis the season and such.”

“…Christmas?”

“Yes,” Mairon said, brows knitting together at the confused undertone in Melkor’s voice. He looked out once more where the reds and pinks slowly faded into a candlelight yellow. His nose was starting to get runny and cold and soon enough, he would have to break the tranquility of this moment. Not just yet though.

“What about it?” Melkor asked.

“Well, everything. Please, don’t tell me you are a Grinch.”

“A what?”

This was getting them nowhere. Sometimes, Mairon could not tell whether Melkor was deliberately dim or whether he was actually unaware of most things culture, and he had a feeling he didn’t want to find out. Time for a more straightforward approach then.

“Can I ask you something, love?”

“Sure.”

“What does Christmas mean to you?”

Melkor nibbled on Mairon’s ear, then grunted in frustration when Mairon wound out of the hug to face him. To distract further, Melkor took a long gulp of his coffee then rolled his eyes when Mairon tapped his foot on the tile.

“Honestly,” Melkor said. “Nothing.”

Oh lord. Oh dear.

“Why not? Have you never celebrated it with your family? I thought your father was such a devoted catholic.” Before the dementia had eaten away his brain, but Mairon didn’t say that out loud. He’d never met the man and wasn’t keen to now.

“Father was busy with his students and the music schools and such. My brother had a lot of friends over, but I mostly locked myself into my room until the new year…” Melkor trailed off with a nonchalant shrug as though it didn’t matter much. Mairon’s heart broke for him. His childhood hadn’t been the easiest either, but without those memories, it would have been a lot more miserable.

“Oh darling,” he said. “You and I are going to have so much fun.”

“Mairon.” Warning had replaced the confusion, but Mairon was having none of it.

“I’m going to show you all my traditions until you vomit Christmas spirit. You are going to love it.”

Melkor groaned, but didn’t protest further. They both knew that once Mairon had gotten something into his head, there was no dispelling it. It was going to be the best Christmas of Mairon’s life.

[ttrtru]

Mairon’s favourite toy=Curumo

He was rather bored in Valinor, listening and obeying to what the Valar and the  others said.  He had his own opinions on many things but did not push it past to the point of blasphemy (most of the time).

Curumo gave him a place where he could experiment and play with different ideas that were simply considered “bad“ and never talked about.  In the case here would be faking love and affection.  Curumo would give him a straight forward reaction while most other Maiar would just be confused.  Eonwe would give him interesting feed backs too but Curumo was much easier to play with since he was around Mairon more often and Curumo is lower ranking then him.

(btw Curumo is more scared then embarassed by the situation, he doesn’t understand what Mairon is thinking)

Past comics are faking affection around <here> + <index>

[nurantarenendurath]

The Fall Part 7

On the second day, Mairon didn’t oversleep, yet he dreamed of Melkor. It hadn’t been a particular kind of dream, Mairon just saw the Valar how he smiled and how he took his hand again. The warmth had been so real as if it really happened

Mairon was very confused and walked to the halls of Aule in a rather slow pace. Of course Curumo wasn’t there, when he arrived, yet neither was Melkor. Mairon was surprised that he felt a little disappointed.

But his disappointment vanished rather quickly, when he saw lord Aule standing at his workplace. And not only him. By his side was no one else but high lady Varda. Slowly Mairon came closer.

“Excuse me, my lady, my lord, how did I deserve the honor of both of you being at my workplace”, wondered Mairon with a little bow. Lady Varda smiled a little. Her smile was like the stars itself, sparkling and shimmering, with a beauty no other being could ever achieve.

“I came here to thank you, Aule showed me your process with the chandelier I ordered and it already is much more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen”, answered Varda, with a voice that was as soft as water. Mairon couldn’t help but feel immensely proud of himself.

“Thank you very much my lady, yet please don’t speak too soon, the chandelier isn’t finished just now and he might disappoint you at last”, said Mairon, although he was pretty sure, that he would be able to make this work one of his greatest so far.

“Don’t listen to him Varda, he is way too modest about his work”, laughed lord Aule. “I bet he is”, agreed Varda, with a small joyful smile, that made Mairons heart skip a beat. “You are too kind”, smiled Mairon and bowed again. He felt great, every thought about Melkor disappeared from his mind.

“I think I’m not kind enough”, claimed Varda. Mairon looked up to her rather confused by these words. “To show how much it means to me, that you are making something with such beauty just for me, I’d like to invite you to the upcoming festivity.”

Mairon was very astounded. “You mean the day of Arda.” Varda couldn’t possibly mean this festival, which the Valar were usually celebrating on their own. It was the day, when they first arrived in Arda and normally no Maiar took part in it.

“Yes indeed, I’d be very happy, if you could show up”, said Varda. “Of course my lady”, answered Mairon with a very unusually high pitch in his voice. “Very well, I’ll see you there.” Varda smiled at him for a last time and then she left the halls, followed by only the stares of everyone present in there.

“My lord, am I dreaming”, wondered Mairon and turned to Aule. The Valar laughed. “You aren’t Mairon, I can assure you.” Lord Aule came a little closer. “You deserved this, without a doubt.” He was looking around, as if he feared someone might hear him, then he came even closer.

“I heard Manwe is searching for someone, who will serve as his right hand, the herald of the Valar”, he whispered. “I think you are one of the Maiar he thinks would be capabale of fulfilling this role.” Mairon gasped. “My lord, you can’t be serious, I’m just a smith, not a warrior.”

Lord Aule shook his head. “I always thought, you were much more”, he said, turned around and left. Mairon stood there, as if he had been struck by lightning. Could it really be possible.

For the rest of the day he was pretty sure, that nothing could bring him down from his euphoria. He worked the whole day, refined the chandelier and was as happy, as any Maiar could ever be. Until the evening.

When he left the halls of Aule-rather early for his usual behavior-Melkor was already waiting for him in the aisle behind the entrance of the halls. Mairon sighed. “Don’t say a word, I’m in a very good mood and the sight of you alone sickens me enough”, he demanded.

Melkor didn’t answer. He didn’t even grin as Mairon expected him to. He just stood there and looked rather serious. “Don’t trust the light.” The words were as dire as Melkors aura. “It might seem beautiful and desirable, but it will betray you.” He clenched his fist. “As it betrayed me.”

Mairon just shook his head. “You are insane”, he said and just walked past Melkor. “I’m just seeing clear”, said Melkor behind him. “Someone seeing in a horde of blind fools isn’t insane”, he added. Mairon turned around to claim, that he wasn’t a fool or blind at all, but when he did Melkor was gone. And just a soft smell of a burning fire proved that he even had been there.

Darkness and light in conflict

Finally the new part of the Fall

EXXXXXXXXXXTRA LONG

(sorry for the delay everyone)

enjoy :)

Part 5: https://nurantarenendurath.tumblr.com/post/176954485968/the-fall-part-5?is_related_post=1

Part 6: https://nurantarenendurath.tumblr.com/post/177267041068/the-fall-part-6?is_related_post=1

PS: just linking the most recent parts now

[curuman-blog]

starter for @upriving

“Mairon!” He’s quick to call out upon seeing the fellow Maia pass him by. A quick double-take of the older’s expression though and Curumo’s giving a furrow to his brows in confusion. Why did he look so...angry? Should he follow? 

When he seems to remain unnoticed, Curumo quickly runs after the retreating form of his fellow smith. There had to be something wrong, right?

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Speak or forever hold your silence

This first request was written for @cilil who is not only a cherished friend, but also a dangerously inspiring author.

Here we go with another Curuwendil prompt LOL

AU Prompt: Poorly timed confession

Dialogue Prompt: Why are you looking at me like that?

Words: 803

Characters: Curumo x Aiwendil

Warnings: Nothing, pure fluff

It had taken half an eternity to get to this point, but—as he walked up to the forge—Aiwendil felt a little more confident that Curumo would actually be glad to see him.

They had spent vast stretches of time together lately, talking about their work and their passions, and Aiwendil no longer wanted to crawl into the nearest foxhole whenever the silence between them stretched out a little.

Of course, his heart was like the flowers and furtive beasts he tended so lovingly—all they needed were a little rain, a dash of sunshine, and a bit of time.

Curumo—on the other hand—needed blazing fire and heavy hammers to coax even the tiniest sliver of emotional ore from the unyielding stone that was his mind.

As he walked, Aiwendil became so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely noticed that he had already arrived at the foot of the mountain where he was supposed to meet his friend.

"Are you dreaming again?" Curumo laughed, extending a staying hand to prevent Aiwendil from barrelling straight into him.

"What? Sorry!" the other muttered, visibly embarrassed. "It is so lovely a day, and I had such joyous thoughts that I was not paying attention."

The bright, intelligent eyes of Aulë's Maia zeroed in on the gentle, friendly face before him with burning curiosity.

"Would you care to share those musings with me?" Curumo thus asked in his most compelling voice.

He knew Aiwendil not to be a secretive person—a welcome change amongst their peers, who habitually relished in keeping their secrets close to their chest.

To his astonishment and dismay, Aiwendil shook his head though, blushing beautifully even as he pressed his lips together stubbornly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked bashfully, his mud-stained hands lifted as if in a wordless plea for lenience. "It was nothing mean, I promise."

"Of course not," Curumo barked, more deeply vexed by his refusal than he cared to admit. "Even among the good and the virtuous, you are particularly exempt from malice."

Aiwendil flinched—even though the words themselves had been kind, he couldn't help but feel that there had been a hard, angry edge to that hypnotic voice he so admired.

Unable to bear the thought that he had ruined the fragile friendship and the trust they had built, he launched into an uncharacteristically wordy apology—if necessary, he decided in a fit of despair, he would lay his heart and all its desires bare.

No matter how painful it would be, he preferred that Curumo derided and pitied him for his hopeless crush rather than let distrust and resentment take root between them, choking the tender growth of affection he had been nursing so lovingly for so long a time.

"I like you," Curumo declared gruffly, rudely cutting off Aiwendil’s lengthy explanation.

Silence.

Aiwendil blinked in confusion—the avalanche of words pouring out of him had drowned out all other things, the song of the nearby woods and the echo of Curumo's steady heartbeat, and he was not at all sure whether he had heard those three words or if it was just his addled mind playing tricks on him.

"This is not how I wanted to tell you," Curumo groaned, lifting a slender hand to his dark brow in self-loathing. "I have prepared a picnic for us. You've been so kind to me—patient, supportive, and just overall lovely—and I wanted to do something nice for you in exchange."

"Oh, you don't have to," Aiwendil said quickly, but he drew closer, nonetheless. "I am inconsolable, but it seems that I have drowned out your words with my inane rambling."

"I like you," Curumo repeated, enunciating every syllable painstakingly. "I truly do."

A sheepish, but candid smile spread across his face.

"I did not mean to frighten you," he then added in a soft tone. "It seems that I was rather nervous about telling you—so you see, you're by far not the only one to have burst into impassionate speech at the seemingly wrong moment."

It was clear that Curumo did not fully trust his feelings, his words, and himself, but he straightened his spine and lifted his chin defiantly.

"Well," Aiwendil muttered after a long moment of tense quietude, "that is very fortunate, because—as you surely know—I have a lot of affection for you too. It is my honour and my pleasure to be good to you."

Scoffing to mask the surge of overwhelming weakness within his every bone and muscle, Curumo turned to the steep slope of the mountain, looming above their heads like a benevolent witness to their clumsy declarations.

"It certainly is harder for me," he then admitted, "but I am willing to give it my best shot. Let's go."

@fellowshipofthefics: Here's the first for this month!!!

Thank you, @cilil for being such a darling to me!