#do elves even have a use for math wait

[britcision]

GANG I AM SURE IT IS OLD NEWS BUT I HAVE BEEN DOING MATH AND LEMME TELL YOU A FUCKING THING

EXHIBIT A: MITHRUN’S TIMELINE PER THE DUNGEON GUIDE

EXHIBIT B: KABRU’S TIMELINE PER THE DUNGEON GUIDE

EXHIBIT C: MILSIRIL’S COMIC PER THE DUNGEON GUIDE

HYPOTHESIS: Milsiril was bare minimum visiting, caring for, and feeding Mithrun at points in his timeline between year 480 (trying to recover) and 500 (appointed as a captain - this is also noted to have happened immediately when he was fit for work, since they were running out of people)

In the comic, Milsiril specifically references Utaya (year 499, from Kabru’s timeline - it’s the only demon incident in Utaya), as she uses the incident with the demon in Utaya to get Mithrun to eat and get his act together

Kabru lived with Milsiril in the elven capital from year 499 to 510

Milsiril specifically dislikes and avoids other elves… now with the apparent exception of Mithrun, who she thinks she might have quite liked pre-nuking

Milsiril would not want to go to Mithrun’s family estate and deal with his entire family every time to take care of him… and they may not have been keen on her dolls or cooking

The only thing we know about Mithrun and his family is that he hated his brother, and visits him every five years (brother has extended a permanent invitation for Mithrun to visit any time pretty sure Mithrun overestimates how much his brother cared/noticed he didn’t like him)

His parents deadass aren’t mentioned except to note that he’s the bastard child, and his parents ignored his older brother. There’s an implication here that they preferred Mithrun… until they sent him to a death squad

Milsiril has a repeatedly-mentioned tendency to take in strays, usually kids of short-lived peoples, and strong nurturing instincts that may/may not be pretty dehumanizing

CONCLUSION: there is a non-zero chance that Mithrun and Kabru LIVED TOGETHER FOR A FUCKING YEAR post Utaya at Milsiril’s house and just didn’t even fucking notice

I am losing my mind

This is incredible

Mithrun deadass coulda been The Crazy Uncle In The Attic for a full fucking year

He was busy going feral and blaming himself for Utaya cuz it “could have been different” if he’d been there and recovered for the same fucking year THE LAST SURVIVOR OF UTAYA was in the next room

What kind of unhinged interactions did they have

Kabru was fucking SEVEN the state of Mithrun in that comic woulda fucking RETRAUMATIZED HIM any mention of him being a dungeon lord???? NOPE

We know from the changeling incident that Mithrun barely considered Kabru a distinct person so 0% chance he would ever put it together but KABRU

Kabru is an observant little thot and his favourite thing is making assumptions from his observations

Just a MENTION of Milsiril and Kabru shoulda been all up on that

Mithrun FULLY DID mention her as Milsiril the Gloomy when exposing his backstory and Kabru just… tossed every single name in the garbage

(Which, fair. Elves live a long time, the odds of there being only one Milsiril are 0% and she wasn’t all that gloomy with Kabru, and, frankly, he had bigger concerns named Laios Touden)

Ugh too much too many bits Otta’s comic includes them actually talking about his adoptive mom but without names they were SO CLOSE I am going insane

Fanfiction

So much fanfiction

It MUST be post Kabru/Mithrun this ship is all angst and tbh the whole “desiring someone who can’t desire” is only gonna consternate Kabru for so long so once that is done I want a slice of “WAIT A FUCKING SECOND you’re the guy in the attic???????”

[cranberrymoons]

speak a little louder

prompt: mutual pining (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 673 words tags: fluff, flirting, nerds in a basement

welcome to Day 3 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The campaign lasts all day.

That’s what they call it – a campaign – as if it’s an actual military coup and not what it really is, which is a bunch of teenage nerds sitting around a table in Mike Wheeler’s basement with sodas and a bag full of dice. 

Steve is used to it by now, but he doesn’t expect to have to wait for a whole extra hour when he shows up to collect them, but here he is, sitting on the couch in the corner and staring at the ceiling while he listens to Eddie drone on and on about elves or some shit.

Well – drone is maybe sort of an inaccurate word, considering how into it Eddie’s getting, crouched on his seat like a gargoyle, talking with his hands, doing the voices. It’s actually kind of fun to watch, and Steve is maybe sort of pretending not to find it as interesting as he does, because he has a reputation to maintain, dammit, and he refuses to be drawn in by the spark in Eddie’s eye or the flush on his cheeks or the way his fingers weave strands of the story across the table.

Whatever. Steve doesn’t even care.

“Sorry about that,” Eddie says when it finally wraps up, when he’s climbed off his chair and is standing in front of Steve while the kids bicker over something and take their sweet time packing their things. “Couldn’t stop in the middle, they would’ve killed me.”

He reaches behind his ear for a cigarette stuck there, and Steve stares at the way his rings catch the light as his hand moves. 

“No problem,” he says. He clears his throat. “Hey, can I –” 

He nods his head toward the cigarette, and Eddie raises his eyebrows, holding it out.

“Bum a smoke?” he asks. “Sure, Harrington. Anything for the valiant babysitter.”

Steve smiles as he accepts it from him, and he tries to ignore the way his stomach flips when their fingers brush. 

“Thanks.”

---

They take them upstairs, outside to wait for the kids, and it’s starting to get cold enough now that Steve has to flip up the collar of his jacket against the chill as soon as they step onto the porch. 

“That was cool back there,” he says around the filter clenched in his teeth as he ducks his head to light the cigarette. “The thing, or whatever.”

Eddie eyes him for a moment, then flicks ash onto the ground. “It was like… the metric opposite of cool, but thanks anyway.”

Steve laughs. “Still. It looked fun.”

“You should join us sometime,” Eddie says. He clears his throat. “I mean… if you want.”

And Steve can’t help it; even on top of everything big and scary going on in his chest right now, the idea of actually playing the fantasy math nerd game sounds like –

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “I think I’ll leave that one to the pros.”

Eddie laughs a little. “Oh, we’re pros now?”

“You managed to save the elf. I think. Sounds pretty professional to me. I couldn’t save an elf.”

Eddie gives him a look. “There wasn’t even an elf in that part of the campaign. I think you’re just making shit up.”

Steve laughs too at that. “Yeah, I had… no idea what you were doing. But the kids seemed into it.”

“So what are you into, then?” Eddie asks. “If not nerd shit, then what?”

You , Steve wants to say. Mostly these days, I’m just into you .

He takes a breath. “I don’t know,” he says instead. “I don’t mind the fantasy stuff. It’s the math part I have issues with.”

Eddie smiles a little. “Then take the numbers out of it. Come watch a movie with me sometime. I bet we can find some kind of nerd thing for you to be into.”

Steve feels his stomach give another little jolt as he stubs out his cigarette. “Yeah, I bet we can.”

[also on ao3]

[dailylifeonmadmire]

April 10, 2025

Today was a big day, the Residents Services building was completed and there was a bigger surprise for us after that announcement: a new staff member is here on Madmire! Her name is Isabelle, and she is absolutely adorable! I'm excited to get her help with things, and I don't even know what she can do for me.

Before I checked it all out, I wanted to check on all those flowers I had planted from Leif's visit. Everything is blooming beautifully, and I am thrilled to see what further blooms in my little gardens. I also met this lovely camel named Saharah, and she was selling wallpapers and flooring, plus some odd mystery rugs. I bought some things, and then immediately regretted my decision. The wallpaper was so ugly, but I think the flooring is cute. The rug, eh could take it or leave it because it's nice but doesn't go well with my current decor.

Next up, I went over to Mr. Nook in Resident Services and I had the option to add some new things to the island: inclines and bridges. I liked the design he showed me for this red iron bridge and thought it could be interesting to decorate around. However, after that, my phone rang and it was Mr. Nook calling me. It seems that these infrastructures are crowd-funded by the islanders, so we'll need to work together for this incline to be built. Kind of glad I sold that pearl yesterday! The incline is really expensive, but I'm sure things will get easier and money won't be too much of an issue eventually. Unless my turnip math isn't right...then we might be fishing for a while.

To end my errands today, I stopped by again to see Isabelle this time. It turns out that she can help with any issues I have with other villagers, but as well as changing some things I didn't think much about. Our island has this cute little musical ring to it every once in a while, and she said that I could make up a new one for us. I haven't played an instrument before, but I kind of remembered this little tune I loved back in the old country. I always loved listening to the song as I was down by the river and imagining a life of elves, gnomes, and magical places. She also said that I could change the island flag as well, and I could not even wait because the first flag is a little bland.

However, I don't really know what I want the flag to be. I just kind of found this little image of a palm tree that Isabelle had to offer. It's pretty, but nothing really special yet. Maybe one day I can sit down and make a new flag that's actually better.

[thelordofgifs]

Wait question, trying to work things out for a fic of my own and I was wondering, how the hell do you determine all the Finweans’ ages in relationship to their siblings to create their dynamics so well in your stories? Don’t like, none of them even have a canon birth year except for Feanor?

What a compliment, thank you anon! I am very far from an expert on this, but as usual “canon” is a vague and muddy field here.

Finwëan birth years we do know, all from the Annals of Aman in Morgoth's Ring:

Fëanor in YT 1169

Fingolfin in 1190

Finarfin in 1230

Turgon and Finrod in 1300

Galadriel and Aredhel in 1360

(An additional fragment of the Annals in The Nature of Middle-earth gives Fingon's birth year as 1260.)

There is plenty of room, within these dates, to play around with birth years to find a dynamic that suits you! One resource I find invaluable is this excellent post on elven aging, which puts the information LaCE gives us into numbers. Because I am Like That, I wrote up a Python script that uses this formula to convert between elf and human ages. If you're slightly more normal, you can use the fact that elves and humans age at the same rate up until three years, and then after that

elf age = 38.25 - (log((27/human age) - 1)/0.059

and

human age = 27/(1 + e^(-0.059*(elf age - 27)))

to convert between them.

Then you can just use this to work backwards and decide on birth years. Posit, for example: Maedhros was always Fingon's Cool Slightly Older Cousin, and the elf-equivalent of a glamorous twenty-year-old when Fingon was elf!17. That gives us that Maedhros was 56 when Fingon was 47, putting his birth year at 1251, nine years before Fingon. Or perhaps you feel very strongly that Celegorm was older than Finrod, but only very slightly: then give him a birth year of 1297 or so. Were Fingolfin and Lalwen codependently close in age? That gives you somewhere around 1195-1200 for her birth year.

I can't emphasise enough that absolutely none of this is necessary! The Annals of Aman do (as far as I know) often contradict what's "established canon" (so much as that exists), and so you can literally throw out any of these birth dates that don't spark joy. And the LaCE maths is even more optional. But I think the working backwards is key: decide on a dynamic you like for the various siblings and cousins, and then reverse-engineer the birth years to give you something you like!

[beck-a-leck]

I bit the bullet and posted the hyperfixation fic.

An Ill-Advised Journey - By TheBeckster; T, WIP, 1/?, 4.7k

When Bilbo Baggins left the Shire in the company of Thorin Oakenshield, she had not known she was pregnant. The thought of it being a possibility hadn’t even crossed her mind. She should turn around and return to the Shire. She should go home to safety and give up on this dangerous adventure. She should do a great many things. None of which are traipsing across all of Middle-earth with a pack of Dwarves. And yet...

If you've been here, then you know I have spent the last 2 months working on this story and honestly I'm just getting the Hyperfixation Fic out before I lose my nerve. (And really, I've only waited this long because I could not settle on a title, and darn it I'm still entirely happy with the one I picked)

Not entirely sure where it came from other than I've been doing a Tolkien deep dive recently, going through the books and rewatching the movies, which I hadn't done in a while, so the Hobbit was semi-fresh on my mind, granted it had still been like 4 months since I'd done the book and movies. And I guess I'm a creature of habit, and when things happen irl I guess I turn them into fics? Ya know, I love baby-fic, and I'm of an age where people in my life are having babies, and I guess when someone I know has a baby I end up writing baby-fic, because everyone deserves some soft baby cuddles. And then when I start new jobs, I guess I also write Rule 63 AUs, which also happened to me this summer. So the math works out, I suppose. Tolkien Deep Dive + Baby Fic Need + New Job Rule 63 AU = the most ill-advised road trip ever. (aka a fic for a fandom I've never been really into and never thought I would write, but current me is laughing at me from 3 months ago now) Okay look! Maybe I just wrote this story because I wanted to see the Company being all soft for a tiny baby! Sue me!

Snippet below the cut!

“Pregnant?” she echoed in disbelief. “At my age? Don’t be ridiculous. My courses are supposed to be ending. No, no that can’t be right. Besides, I haven’t –” the memory of that gentleman Hobbit from Bree sparked in Bilbo’s mind. “—Oh… oh I suppose I have. Oh dear. Oh my…”

Then she fell into a bit of a state, muttering to herself and thinking so deeply that she appeared to neither hear nor feel any attempts to get her attention.

“She gets like this,” Óin assured the Elves, “Give her a moment, she’ll either snap out of it, faint, or start whistling like a kettle.”

Bilbo did not start whistling like a kettle, nor did she utter one single “nope” before passing out. She did eventually reach the bottom of her mental spiral and reemerged to see three healers blinking patiently at her.

She laughed hesitantly. “I don’t suppose what you just told me a few minutes ago was all a hallucination?”

“That depends on what you believe we told you.” One of the Elves offered gently.

“That I’m pregnant?”

They all pursed their lips and shook their heads. “That’s real, lass.” Óin confirmed.

Bilbo dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, of all the times to leave the Shire unexpectedly. They’ll never believe that I… oh, dear. Oh, bother.” She looked up at Óin. “Did you know?”

“I suspected. Thought you were using us as an excuse to escape a scandal.”

Laughing just on the edge of hysterics, Bilbo shook her head. “Gracious no! If I’d known, I’d never have agreed to traipsing all across Middle-Earth with a bunch of Dwarves. That would have been right foolish, wouldn’t it?” Her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh dear, I’ll have to tell the others, won’t I?”

[lolpuns]

12 Holly-Jolly Christmas Math Puns to Sleigh Your Holiday Spirit

https://lolpuns.com/?p=1806 12 Holly-Jolly Christmas Math Puns to Sleigh Your Holiday Spirit ‘Tis the season to be calculating! We’ve rounded up the most festive Christmas math puns that’ll have you laughing all the way through the holidays. Whether you’re a math teacher looking to spread some numerical cheer or simply someone who appreciates the intersection of mathematics and holiday humor, our collection is sure to factor into your seasonal joy. Table of Contents Toggle 12 Hilarious Christmas Math Puns for Number-Loving Holiday EnthusiastsAdding Joy to Your Holidays: Basic Arithmetic Christmas PunsSum-thing Special for Christmas MorningThe Division of Holiday ResponsibilitiesGeometry and Trigonometry: Christmas Puns With the Right AngleCircle-ing Around the Christmas TreeThe Parallel Lines of Gift WrappingAlgebra and Calculus: Advanced Christmas Math HumorX-mas Marks the Spot: Variable Holiday FunThe Derivatives of Santa’s Sleigh PathProbability and Statistics: Christmas Puns That CountThe Mean, Median, and Mode of Santa’s Gift DistributionRandom Variables in Stocking Stuffer SelectionIncorporating Math Puns in Your Holiday CelebrationsEquation-Themed Christmas CardsMathematical Ornament IdeasConclusion: The Perfect Formula for Holiday LaughterFrequently Asked QuestionsWhat are Christmas math puns?How can I use math puns during the holidays?Are there math puns for different levels of mathematical knowledge?What types of math concepts are covered in these puns?Why combine math with Christmas humor?How can teachers use Christmas math puns in the classroom?What is the “trigonometree” pun about?How does Santa use calculus according to these puns? 12 Hilarious Christmas Math Puns for Number-Loving Holiday Enthusiasts What do you call a number that can’t keep still at Christmas? A fidgety digit! These restless numbers just can’t wait to be part of your holiday calculations. Why did the math book look sad during the holidays? It had too many problems! Even math books need a Christmas break from all those equations. What’s an elf’s favorite type of math? Presentage! They’ve mastered the art of calculating exactly how many gifts they need to wrap per hour. How does Santa solve quadratic equations? He uses the North Pole method! His elves claim it’s 30% more efficient than standard approaches. What do mathematicians sing at Christmas? “Deck the Halls with Bounds of Holly!” They’re particularly fond of singing about upper and lower bounds. Why was the fraction anxious about Christmas shopping? It was stressed about being reduced! Nobody wants to be simplified during the holidays. What do you call Santa’s mathematical helpers? Elves-ementary mathematicians! They specialize in toy distribution algorithms and optimal sleigh loading techniques. How many presents can Santa fit in his bag? The limit approaches infinity! His bag uses non-Euclidean geometry to maximize gift storage. What’s a geometry teacher’s favorite Christmas ornament? A protractor star! These make measuring angles on the Christmas tree surprisingly convenient. Why does Santa love trigonometry? Because with sine and cosine, he can navigate his sleigh with pi-recision! His route optimization is legendary among mathematical circles. What did zero say to eight at the Christmas party? “Nice belt!” This classic number joke takes on festive meaning when eight is dressed as Santa. How do mathematicians decorate their Christmas trees? They use function ornaments at regular intervals! The pattern creates a perfectly balanced tree with optimal aesthetic appeal. Adding Joy to Your Holidays: Basic Arithmetic Christmas Puns Ready to solve the equation for holiday humor? Basic arithmetic operations provide the perfect foundation for some of the most accessible and entertaining Christmas math puns. Sum-thing Special for Christmas Morning Addition-themed puns bring extra joy to your holiday celebrations. Santa’s math skills shine when he exclaims, “How does Santa solve math problems? With North Pole-ar coordinates!” This clever wordplay combines navigation systems with festive charm. Many mathematicians look forward to their Christmas feast, especially when there’s “Mince pi” on the menu—a delicious play on the mathematical constant π. Teachers particularly enjoy asking students, “What’s a mathematician’s favorite Christmas tree? Pi-ne!” connecting the beloved constant with traditional holiday decorations. The Division of Holiday Responsibilities Sharing tasks during Christmas requires proper division of labor, just like in mathematics. One popular pun notes, “Why does Father Christmas equal minus Christmas Father? Santa-commutative!” This joke playfully mocks the commutative property in mathematics where order doesn’t matter. After indulging in holiday feasts, mathematicians often joke, “What did the mathematician say after eating Christmas dinner? −1/8!” which cleverly represents √−1/64 or “I overate.” Family gatherings become more entertaining when someone asks about holiday exponents, pointing out they can be found “In the Yule log!” – a brilliant connection between mathematical terms and traditional Christmas desserts. Geometry and Trigonometry: Christmas Puns With the Right Angle Geometry and trigonometry offer perfect angles for holiday humor that will have math enthusiasts laughing all season long. Let’s explore some shape-shifting puns that combine mathematical precision with festive fun. Circle-ing Around the Christmas Tree Santa’s favorite geometry shape might just be the “sleigh”-gon, which continuously adds layers of holiday cheer as it circles around your Christmas celebrations. Math teachers particularly enjoy decorating their “trigonometree” during the holidays, combining their passion for angles with festive traditions. During winter breaks, these same teachers can often be found making perfect “snow-angles” in freshly fallen snow, carefully measuring each 90-degree corner. Tree-angles naturally become Santa’s favorite shape as they perfectly represent both the Christmas tree and his mathematical mindset. The Parallel Lines of Gift Wrapping Wrapping presents requires understanding of parallel lines that never intersect, much like how algebraic geometers study “holly-nomials” during the Christmas season. Mathematicians typically bring ladders to Christmas dinner because they’re determined to reach new heights with their gift-wrapping techniques. Santa cleverly solves all his gift distribution problems using “North Pole-ar coordinates” to ensure every child receives their present on time. Professional gift wrappers understand that proper alignment is crucial, just as mathematicians know that eating “mince pi” is essential to celebrate the holidays correctly. Algebra and Calculus: Advanced Christmas Math Humor Take your holiday humor to the next level with these advanced Christmas math puns that blend algebraic principles and calculus concepts with festive cheer. X-mas Marks the Spot: Variable Holiday Fun Math enthusiasts know that variables make equations interesting, and the same applies to holiday humor! When mathematicians celebrate Christmas, they often create a “pi”-rate party complete with decimal decorations. Santa’s favorite math operation is definitely “sleigh”-ing because it always adds up to joy for children worldwide. Musical elves earn the title of “wrappers” as they package presents with mathematical precision. Geometrically speaking, Santa prefers the “sleigh”-gon shape for optimal gift delivery efficiency. Reindeer excel in mathematics primarily because they’ve mastered their “deer”-ivatives, helping Santa calculate the optimal trajectory for Christmas Eve deliveries. Math teachers particularly enjoy making snow-angles during winter breaks, combining trigonometry with seasonal outdoor activities. The Derivatives of Santa’s Sleigh Path Calculating Santa’s journey requires advanced calculus to determine the optimal route for visiting millions of homes in a single night. The rate of change in Santa’s position can be expressed as a complex function with variables including chimney width, cookie consumption, and reindeer energy levels. Finding the local maximums and minimums of Santa’s path helps him avoid air traffic and bad weather patterns through differential equations. The integral of Santa’s velocity gives us the total distance traveled, which approaches infinity when accounting for time zones and the magic of Christmas. When plotting Santa’s trajectory on a graph, we notice that the curve reaches new heights with each passing year as more children join the nice list. The second derivative of Santa’s sleigh acceleration shows dramatic changes when encountering homes with particularly good cookies or exceptionally well-behaved children. Probability and Statistics: Christmas Puns That Count Statistical humor brings a whole new dimension to holiday cheer when we incorporate probability and data analysis into our Christmas jokes. The Mean, Median, and Mode of Santa’s Gift Distribution Santa’s workshop runs on statistical principles that would make any data scientist proud. We’ve discovered that the mean number of presents depends entirely on how “nice” you’ve been throughout the year! Santa applies complex algorithms to determine the median gift size, ensuring fair distribution across all chimneys. Our analysis shows that the mode of Santa’s gifts varies by region – with LEGO sets being statistically important in most households. When children ask why some presents are bigger than others, parents often explain that “it’s just a normal distribution!” Statistical evidence suggests that Santa uses standard deviation to measure how far each child has strayed from good behavior throughout the year. Random Variables in Stocking Stuffer Selection The contents of Christmas stockings represent the perfect example of random variables in action. We never know exactly what small treasures await us on Christmas morning! Santa employs a sophisticated probability distribution to determine which items make it into each stocking. The unpredictability creates that special Christmas morning excitement, as the probability of finding chocolate coins versus fruit remains a hotly debated statistical model. Mathematicians have noted that stocking stuffer selection follows no discernible pattern, making it impossible to predict what you’ll receive with any statistical confidence. Some statisticians theorize that Santa uses Monte Carlo simulations to maximize surprise while maintaining budget constraints across millions of households. Incorporating Math Puns in Your Holiday Celebrations Want to add an educational twist to your festivities? Math-themed humor offers a playful and clever way to celebrate the holidays while showcasing your love for numbers and equations. Equation-Themed Christmas Cards Christmas cards provide the perfect opportunity to share your passion for mathematics with friends and family. Algebraic humor shines through phrases like “Holly-nomials” for polynomial enthusiasts or “It’s the ‘root’ of all holiday cheer!” that will delight recipients. Recursive jokes such as “May your Christmas be ‘un-derivative’ of joy!” cleverly incorporate calculus terms that math lovers will appreciate. For visual impact, consider adding snow-angles instead of traditional angels, trigonometree illustrations, or graphs labeled “Santa’s Workshop Coordinates” to your holiday greetings. Other popular card phrases include “Wishing you ‘sum’ festive joy” and “Have a ‘sleigh’ of a time!” which blend arithmetic concepts with seasonal cheer. Mathematical Ornament Ideas Transform your Christmas tree into a celebration of mathematical concepts with themed decorations. Pi-themed ornaments featuring the π symbol make excellent conversation pieces, especially when paired with “Yule log” equations that playfully nod to logarithms. Holiday operations ornaments shaped like addition or equals signs can carry messages such as “Add joy, subtract stress” for a positive mathematical spin. Crown your tree with humor by using a star labeled “North Pole-ar Star” or factorial ornaments with phrases like “Have a ‘factor’-ial holiday!” For geometrically-inclined decorators, tree-angle cutouts represent “Santa’s favorite shape” according to popular math jokes. Other creative options include symbols with festive twists such as “geome-tree” decorations and “Alge-bra-la-la-la” carol references that combine mathematical terminology with holiday traditions. Conclusion: The Perfect Formula for Holiday Laughter We’ve explored a industry where mathematics and holiday spirit multiply together to create laughter that divides across all age groups. These Christmas math puns offer the perfect solution to adding humor to your festive celebrations. Whether you’re decorating with “trigonometree” ornaments sending equation-themed cards or simply sharing a joke about Santa’s “North Pole-ar coordinates” these puns integrate the precision of math with the joy of the season. So this Christmas embrace your inner math enthusiast and share these puns with friends and family. After all when math meets holiday cheer the sum of our happiness increases exponentially. Happy calculating and merry Christmas to all our fellow number lovers! Frequently Asked Questions What are Christmas math puns? Christmas math puns are humorous wordplays that combine mathematical concepts with holiday themes. They’re clever jokes that appeal to both math enthusiasts and holiday celebrators, bringing educational humor to festive occasions. Examples include jokes about “fidgety digits” and mathematicians enjoying “mince pi” during their holiday feast. How can I use math puns during the holidays? You can incorporate math puns into holiday cards with equation-themed greetings, create mathematical ornaments featuring pi symbols or formulas, use them as conversation starters at holiday gatherings, or share them with students if you’re a teacher. They’re perfect for adding a unique, intellectual twist to traditional holiday humor. Are there math puns for different levels of mathematical knowledge? Yes! The collection includes puns ranging from basic arithmetic (“addition-themed jokes add extra joy”) to advanced concepts like calculus (“reindeer mastering their deer-ivatives”). There are puns suitable for elementary students through college-level math enthusiasts, ensuring everyone can enjoy some mathematical holiday humor. What types of math concepts are covered in these puns? The puns cover a wide range of mathematical concepts including basic arithmetic, geometry, trigonometry, algebra, calculus, probability, and statistics. From Santa using “North Pole-ar coordinates” to the analysis of gift distribution using mean, median, and mode, the collection spans numerous mathematical fields. Why combine math with Christmas humor? Combining math with Christmas humor makes learning more enjoyable, helps students connect with mathematical concepts in a festive context, and creates a unique intersection of education and entertainment. It also provides math enthusiasts a way to celebrate their passion during the holidays while sharing laughs with friends and family. How can teachers use Christmas math puns in the classroom? Teachers can use these puns as engaging warm-up activities, incorporate them into holiday-themed math problems, create classroom decorations featuring the puns, include them in end-of-semester review games, or send them as fun holiday messages to students. They’re excellent tools for maintaining student interest before the holiday break. What is the “trigonometree” pun about? The “trigonometree” pun is a clever play on “trigonometry” that references Christmas tree decorations. It humorously suggests applying mathematical precision to tree decorating, with angles and measurements ensuring perfect ornament placement—combining the systematic approach of trigonometry with the festive tradition of tree decoration. How does Santa use calculus according to these puns? According to the puns, Santa uses calculus to optimize his gift delivery route by calculating trajectories using differential equations and finding the integral of his velocity. His reindeer master “deer-ivatives” for optimal delivery speeds, and he improves his journey each year through mathematical optimization techniques. https://lolpuns.com/?p=1806 LOL Puns

[linh-song]

genuine question: do elves learn math

[sparklecryptid]

lols, who realizes Anordil has no idea that the other two have been under the impression that the THREE of them were courting first? Like, THEY'VE EXCHANGED GIFTS probably?

Oh wait, waitwaitwait, Anordil left with her mother when she was still a child, right? And like, she was barely an adult when her mother left, and post apocalyptic Beleriand was a nightmare so some talks might not have been had amid survival. And her Ada is, well, kind of nuts for a very long time, so not someone Anordil probably considers asking about this stuff.

Is- is she perhaps missing some key points of Elven social culture? Like, she has memories of Tolkien, and presumably at least skimmed the deeper lore like LACE? So she has vague memories of Elven society being one way, when in reality Tolkien got the broad strokes right but also surely made up bits to fit his own cultural upbringing.

Intellectually she knows not everything matches up, given she's helping two male elves get together and has possibly had lovers of her own here and there (MOAR angst bc her past lovers FORGOT her bc she's the 52 Hertz elf) and knows the 'sex is marriage to elves' thing is phooey, but she has no idea the emotional INTENT behind some of whats been going on between the three of them is in any way COURTING.

Erestor: Is this on us? Were we not clear? I gave her that lovely blank book. She gave me those three inkstones from the east and you that lovely tooled utensil pouch. You gave her BOOTS!

Glorfindel: I thought the new boots were overkill even. Naneth would have twisted my ear for being so forward if I'd done that in Valinor! (Note: Boots would ABSOLUTELY be like a stage three courting gift normally, stage two at the earliest. Shoes of any kind are hard to make, require precise fitting, and a skilled craftsperson. Glorfindel, if he didn't make them himself, would have dropped a LOT of coin on them. But Anordil has traveled so much, so hers were probably worn, and he'd seen her trying to fix the unmendable wear in them so-)

So like, maybe Elrond and Celebrian watches this and do a little math, and it slowly dawns on them that Anordil is MISSING CONTEXT. Oh, dear, they're going to have to have a TALK with her when she gets back, aren't they. Elrond is going to have to explain noldor social moors to his older sister. (Celebrian: It will be lovely practice for the twins one day? XD)

(*facepalm* I meant this to just be a jokey two paragraph thing but my brain must WORLDBUILD. It would not stop going, "wait and what about-" as I typed! Ugh, sorry!)

no that's exactly it! Anordil ~~logically~~ knows that she is missing bits of culture that she /should/ know considering who her parents are and what she is it's just-

her mother never really had time to teach her about things like 'courting 101' amidst the whole 'we are on the precipice of morgoth killing us all' and 'oh. the land is literally sinking beneath our feet as armies fight it out. okay' thing and anordil never gave it too much thought so she just sorta shrugged and went on with life!

and all of her other brief encounters with what could be called lovers were over in less than two years (most of them were with Men, but there was that one very cute dwarf lady that Anordil had a lot of fun with. there were a few elves too, but she always left or broke things off before they got too serious)

Anordil: *Comes back a year later* i have gifts!!! :D this is for the twins and this is for arwen and this is for elrond and this is for celebrian. and OH i got a pretty quill from a scribe for erestor and glorfindel has a new hair clip for reasons-

Elrond: you do know the gifts they gave you were courting gifts right?

Anordil: *drops erestors quill back on the table where she was showing off her haul to Elrond*...thats a thing?

Elrond: yes. its a thing.

Anordil: *error local elf does not believe that anyone would want to seriously court her let alone the two people shes had eyes on error*

[marauderspog]

I could go with knowing Regulus' birthday tho. Trying to make it up with astrology and funky number pseudoscience is fun but you know. :D

There’s a lot of dates for his birthday in the fandom so I thought I’d take a stab at working it out.

His birthday has to be between September 1960 and August 1961 to work with him being canonically a year below the Marauders.

Regulus Black - Birthday Headcanons

WARNING: I KNOW NOTHING OF ASTRONOMY, ASTROLOGY OR ANY OTHER STAR RELATED THING. I KNOW MATHS , LOGIC AND MARAUDERS HEADCANONS THO, SO LETS GO

~ 1st September 1960 ~

Young Regulus and Sirius being annoyed that Reggie is only just in the year below

‘Mother, can’t Reggie just come to school early?’

Sirius really did not want to go to Hogwarts on his first day, because it would mean leaving Reggie alone on his birthday

They both got up really early to sneak outside, look at the stars and let Reggie open his present

Later that day, it was just him and Kreacher so they had a little tea party to celebrate not that his parents would ever acknowledge his birthday

Birthday party on the Hogwarts Express every year after that

~ 26th September 1960 ~

Regulus is the heart of the lion headcanon one!

His birthday is half a year away from James, and James will never let him live it down

‘Sorry babe, you can drink when your older’

‘I’m only fucking 6 months younger than you, and bloody taller, you prick’

One of the oldest in his year and basically a parent to the younger years, and helping calm them down when some older years pick on them

~ 25th December 1960 ~

His parents celebrate neither his birthday nor Christmas so it was just the Black cousins and Kreacher celebrating on that day when they were younger

When Hogwarts came around, the Marauders found about Regulus’ birthday around fifth year, cut to all of them staying at school over the Christmas break that year

The Great Hall was decorated with tinsel and a birthday banner, and Reggie almost broke into tears

Started calling it ‘Regmas’ as a joke, but it stuck

Reggie finally got to experience both a Christmas and a birthday and he couldn’t be happier

The next year, there was some presents from certain Hogwarts professors besides the familiar wrapping of Reggie’s favourite house elf

All house elves are invited to the birthday party

James kept making mistletoe jokes until the girls trick him into getting under it with Reggie, let’s just say they were blushing for hours after

~ 31st December 1960 ~

Born at around 11PM on the 31st so he’s barely born in 1960

Attends a Marauders New Year party during his fifth year and keeps smiling to himself because it’s the first birthday he’s been with more than two people

Sirius gets drunk and tells everyone how happy he is that his baby brother is growing up

Drunk Marauders sing Harry Birthday and Reggie almost cries of happiness

So many party games, including truth or dare where James ends up confessing

‘Prongs, kiss the hottest person in the room’

‘Sirius...’

‘I’m flattered, but I love Moony’

‘Ew, no mate, no offence, but I was gonna ask if you’d kill me if I kissed Reggie?’

‘Oh go ahead- WAIT, REGGIE?! THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER!’

‘Ignore him, please go ahead, love’

~ 28th February 1961 ~

Wanted it to be 29th of February but sadly 1961 is not a leap year, so this is an adapted version of that idea

Reggie being born at midnight on the 28th, so him and Sirius can never work out when to celebrate

On leap years, they’re so fucking confused about when to celebrate since they barely ever are allowed to celebrate at home

Reggie just pretends that his birthday has already gone when anyone asks to save them the trouble

Even when they weren’t speaking, Sirius makes sure to send a letter to Reggie at midnight on the 1st, to remind his brother that he’s always there

Most years Reggie just sneaks out of his dorm on his birthday to hang out with the house elves at midnight

One time he bumped into James, so it became a tradition for them to spend the night laughing and chatting in the kitchen or library

James just likes seeing Reggie comfortable and happy

~ 27th March 1961 ~

Regulus is the heart of the lion headcanon 2!

Birthday is the same day as James’

Sirius makes jokes that his two second favourite people share a birthday (the first is obviously Remus)

James and Reggie alternate what they do on their birthday, but usually end the day cuddled up on James’ bed talking about quidditch

After James graduates, Regulus is invited round for their birthday (as well as all their friends obviously)

Euphemia and Fleamont absolutely love Reggie, they buy him presents and invite him to come over more often after telling him many embarrassing stories about James while James blushes

~ Any Date in May 2061 ~

According to things I’ve seen please don’t quote me on this Regulus is most visible in May

Birthday stargazing with James using cheesy lines and Regulus reciting facts he was taught as a kid as they cuddle under a blanket

Birthday dates to Hogsmead with James, getting many sweets to share in the library later that day

Birthday quidditch matches where James promises not to go easy on Reggie and fucking panics one year when Reggie falls off his broom and ends up in the hospital wing

James just freaks out and refused to leave Reggie’s side, even after being told everything was fine

James and their friends end up bringing duvets and pillows down so they don’t have to leave Reggie alone

Remus and Lily find a spell to project muggle films on the wall for all of them to watch Regulus, Sirius and Mel are fascinated

~ 31st August 1961 ~

No one knowing when Regulus’ birthday is because it’s already happened the day before they go back to school

James is outraged when he finds out that the Marauders have never been able to celebrate his birthday in school

So they start making the first day of school Reggie’s honorary birthday with a giant sleepover in the Gryffindor common room

So many baby Black jokes, which Reggie fucking hates

‘Sirius I’m fucking taller than you, if anyone’s the baby it’s you’

First time they celebrate his birthday outside of school, James takes him to see a quidditch match, then to the local pub to see the rest of their friends, and finally back to their flat for Reggie to read the books he got for his birthday

~ Literally Any Date From September 1st to August 31st ~

I tried to find a correlation between November 3rd (Sirius’ birthday) and the Sirius star

Couldn’t really find anything (again I don’t know astronomy so please feel free to prove me wrong if you do!)

Only thing I saw was that Sirius is apparently more visible in Winter, but November is technically in Autumn so wasn’t really anything with that

By that logic, She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named could have made his birthday any date with no reasoning but we’re not gonna accept that

So any date for his birthday is acceptable!

SPEECH - SIRIUS, JAMES, REGULUS

Feel free to comment which birthday you prefer, even if it isn’t one listened! And sorry if I got some astronomy things wrong, please correct me if I’m wrong and I will happily edit this post accordingly!

[flaming-thing]

I honestly don't understand how people made these machines that are able to do all the hard work leave us free to create to our hearts content, and then decided that, actually, no. The machines are gonna 'create' for us, and we still have to do all the hard work

Ye but that's still entirely his fault. He volunteered! Knowing what it would do! She can't really blame herself here imo

A report that turns into a talk...? (Or a hug, now thag ive read the chapter)

Where do the pitchforks and torches even come from?? Do you think they just have a storeroom full of them?? There's no way that elves breaking into the village are that common that everyone just had their torches and pitchforks on hand lmao

Jumpscare I always forget his name is Tristan. He must be quite observant then, if I was in that position it definitely wouldn't register that they read elven writing until much later

We ignore all of that. This part is the only bit that matters. Soft dad runaan all the way lol

So far, I think skor is the only one who hasn't been injured yet. And *possibly* ram, but he did burn his wrist. (I'm ignoring rayla here, she's counted as one of the kids). This leaves me in fear for skor. So far, one of them had been hurt every few chapters, and he's the only one who hasn't been on the receiving end of the Bad Luck

Huh, I always took 'bemused' to mean finding something a little funny, but because you're confused/not really sure what's going on rather than it actually being funny. Js this a case of culture/language differences, or have I just been misinterpreting the word my whole life?

I can just imagine he rubs it in everyone's face when he finally gets it back. Like: "HA! SUCK IT GUYS! MY KNIFE NOW" and everyone else is like "...yes we know it's yours. We never said it wasnt"

The better plan would probably be to not try it then lol. Or hope it dosent work

Wait why would someone die if it didn't work? Surely they'd just all lose their hands? (or arms, in runaans case). Unless its andromeda, she could die if they don't get it off? My brains not working rn sorry 😭

Ram: "my calculations show that this is worth the risk" Rayla: "you failed maths. Twice."

Damn runaan that's a bit extreme lmao. Lyrennus had better watch out just in case runaan decides that actually what happened was too close a call

The however many years he's spent building a wall between him and everyone else has just been rendered completely pointless in the space of like 3 days by two small children

Ah yes. Well at least ram himself knows what rams like. Nothing better than a self-aware assassin ig

Hmmm suuuuure. That's what everyone whose trying to get the characters to show their love for each other says

Level: impossible

CALLUM NO ONCE YOU ASK THE QUESTION RUNAAN (THE AUTHOR) IS NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO STOP

Oooo I didn't know that the earth nexus was umber tor! I suspected that sky was the storm spire, but i wasn't sure. Imprettu sure the water nexus is the place that ezran goes to to talk to donina profundis? That big clam looking thing? Rayla goes there in s7 as well. Its be my guess that there isn't a star nexus, and/or the place where star magic is the strongest is just on the sky, when the startouch elves aren't 'assuming mortal form' or whatever they called it

They're all nerds. I was gonna say I feel sorry for someone in the group having to deal with that, but I actually can't think of anyone there who *isnt* a nerd to some degree. Ezran maybe?

That's true. Do you not think they did some cmscputing before hand though, to check fir gaurd rotations/places to make camp ect? It clearly dosent take forever to get from the silvergrove go katolis, and it'd make sense fir at least runaan, skor and callisto to go and check stuff out before hand, especially considering one of the people on the team had never been on a mission before

Ram: "20 IS ADULT!! I AM NOT A CHILD!! ADULT!!" And runaan just gives him The Look

We need more of those two interacting in canon tbh, the only conversation we got was when runaan was bridal-carried into bed by Allen and she told him to sleep. It's a shame really, those two would be hilarious

Oh yes. 100%. Not yours in the slightest. The characters. For sure

Skor: "I hate huma- wait ezran tripped is he ok does he need medical assistance"

Lujanne knows *what* to do, callum knows *how* to do it. And runaans gonna be holding onto the cliff for dear life, like "damn I'm gonna kill this kid (not literally) when this wind dies down" then he sees zym and is like "...yk what I forgive him"

Ooooh are they also gonna figure out the illusions and not tell anyone? Or will the others figure it out and just leave callum and corvus dying of fear? Both would be very funny. And interesting to see how the elves deal with ezran telling them he can talk to animals. I imagine ram would probably laugh/say he's lying (unless he has some secret knowledge or something), one of them, maybe runaan? Would be like "ye that checks out". But I think most of them, andromeda especially, will probably have the same reaction that rayla had in canon. Like, "ye I don't really believe you, but I also believe that you think you're telling the truth". Untill he figures out the spider that is. Rams reaction to that will be hilarious, especially is he just flat out didn't believe ezran in the first place

Different Path Taken Ch19: P2 Reports

Sorry y'all. Blame my job for how long this one took. Here you go.

Runaan was waiting outside the cave when they returned.  Rayla didn’t get a chance to say anything before Callum said brightly, “Well, we have good news!”

“We also have bad news,” She cautioned, wincing as she thought of Ram’s burned wrist and the ache of their tightening bindings. 

“And better news,” Ram said with a forgiving glance at her, and she felt irrationally grateful for it even as she remembered that it was really his own fault he was injured.  It could have been her instead.

A smile tugged at Runaan’s mouth. “I believe that evens out into a positive,” He said as they drew closer. “The others are inside.  Rayla, I need you for a moment.” His tone was a clear dismissal of the boys, and Ram gave her a mischievously sympathetic look before ushering the princes into the cave ahead of him.

Rayla stood up very straight when she stopped in front of Runaan. “Yes sir?”

He smiled more gently this time. “Please relax, Rayla.  I put you in charge of security, I need to talk to you about that.  You weren’t discovered, I assume by the glaring lack of torches and pitchforks following you.”

She snickered in spite of herself, the tension falling from her shoulders as she realized he wasn’t scolding her, didn’t doubt her.  He just . . . wanted her report, like he would ask from anyone with that job. “Right.  Only one, and there were . . . extenuatin’ circumstances.  Ram’ll explain, he took care of it.  Mostly it was smooth sailin’, no one saw through our disguises.”

“Good.” Runaan stepped forward and took her hand, the one he’d drawn the rune on, and pressed his palm over it, letting the illusion drop.  Her fifth finger disappeared, leaving her hands normal again, and she knew her ears, horns, and tattoos must have reappeared as well. “I expected no less, but I am proud of you.” He said softly. 

It . . . it did help to hear, and Rayla smiled back, a little shakily.  Ram’s perspective had given her a lot to think about, and it was growing easier to forgive him, especially as he didn’t seem to be pulling away.  He was pushing closer to her instead, fussing over her more. “Thank you.” 

She took a step closer, unsure if she was approaching him or the door, and Runaan opened his arms.  She darted in before she could overthink it, letting him hug her tight again.  She could hear his heartbeat slowing with her safely in his arms again, and he kissed her hair and trailed his hand over her shoulders, scenting her, marking her as his cub.  She shuddered under the very parental affection, and buried her face in his coat.  He meant it.  He really meant this, didn’t he?

Only when she pulled away to breathe did Runaan carefully let go of her, and he held the tent flaps aside to let her into the cave ahead of him. 

Callisto had clearly yanked Ram down when they saw his arm, as he was kneeling somewhat awkwardly with the wounded limb in their good hand as they examined it with a concerned scowl.  Skor sat behind them looking vaguely bemused.  Andromeda’s attention was on the human boys, along with Corvus, and the kids had joined her sitting closer to the fire.  

“I suppose we should lead with what happened to your arm,” Runaan said dryly to Ram. “You look like you put your hand in a fire.”

Ram winced. “That isn’t . . . entirely inaccurate.”

“Why?” Callisto asked with the most exasperated, tired tone Rayla had ever heard them muster, and she muffled a giggle at how much they suddenly reminded her of Ethari.

“A mercenary in town had my -” Ram grumbled. “Had a Sunforge dagger.  I recognized it because it was the same one I lost to those pirates three years ago.  It’s enchanted to cut through spells, so Rayla and Callum theorized - and I agreed it was possible - that it could cut through our bindings as well.”

The older elves froze.  Callisto slowly let go of Ram’s hand to facepalm, groaning into their palm.  Runaan’s hand landed heavy on Rayla’s shoulder and she suppressed a squeak as he pulled her closer to him again. “You realize,” He said very carefully above her. “If the spell is broken, rather than released or completed, it still takes its blood price?  Breaking the binding itself would result in the same thing as removing the limb ahead of time.  It would have killed you.”

Ram winced. “Which is why I did it, and not Rayla.”

The hand on her shoulder tightened further, and Rayla looked up at Runaan in amazement. “What?”

“I had a feeling if we were wrong, the consequences could be death,” Ram said honestly. “And also that if I let Rayla get herself killed, I would be dying anyway when I came to report it, given . . .” He gestured at the way Runaan was looming over Rayla’s shoulders.

“You were right,” Runaan admitted coolly, and Rayla started at his admission.  He would have killed Ram over her?

“That’s just the bad news though,” Callum said quickly. “And it turned out okay.  They couldn’t cut through the bindings, so Ram’s burned, but he said he’d be okay.”

Callisto grunted. “He will be.  Someone with two workin’ hands, cut that gauntlet off as best ye can so the threads don���t keep gettin’ into the burn wounds.  I don’t have any sootheberry cream, but sootheberry juice will be better than nothin’, he should heal in a week or two.  The gauntlet took the worst of the damage.”

“The mercenary was the only human who realized what you were?” Runaan directed the question down at Rayla and she nodded. “Good.  Ram?”

“I threatened him,” Ram said easily. “But I didn’t touch him.  We’ll be long gone before he gets up the courage to come after us.” he dug in his coat pocket with his good hand. “I got the leechleaf.  The herbalist didn’t have any left, but the apothecary had some dried.”

Callisto grunted. “Dried is all I was really hopin’ for this time of year without a grow house.  This should be enough for a treatment or two, at least.  I’ll get . . . I’ll need someone with two good hands to make it.”

“I’ve got it.” Skor rumbled from behind them, placing a hand on their left shoulder. “Ram’s hand, too.  Come here.” His voice was rasping like he’d been talking a lot this morning, and Rayla frowned with concern, glancing over at Corvus.  What exactly had happened while they were gone?

“And the egg?” Runaan prompted.

“We didn’t find anyone in the village, but we did hear about someone who might be able to help.” Ezran said. “There’s a miracle healer we can go find on the mountain close to the village!  There’s a wolf down in the village who lost one of her legs as a puppy, and the miracle healer gave her a fourth leg back.”

“The animal doctor and the girl and her family all agreed about what happened,” Callum supported his brother. “The only problem is it’s up a mountain called the Cursed Caldera.”

Rayla winced. “But with all of us together, we should be okay,” She said hopefully.

Ram groaned even as he held his arm still to let Skor cut his gauntlet away from his binding. “It’s not cursed.  They pointed the mountain out as we were leaving the village - they’re talking about Lunar Peak.”

“There shouldn’t be anything up there but the Guardian, though, should there?” Andromeda asked, visibly worried.

Runaan sighed through his nose above her. “It doesn’t matter.  Whether it lies with this miracle healer or the Guardian, it seems our best hope lies up the mountain, at the Moon Nexus.  Break camp.  By the time we’re finished with that, Skor should be finished with Ram’s arm, and we can get moving.  For the benefit of those who went to the village - Corvus will be traveling with us for the time being.  One wrong move and that changes very, very quickly.”

It was the most practical option, but Rayla reflexively glanced at Skor to gauge his reaction.  He appeared to be entirely focused on Ram’s arm and ignoring the statement.  Maybe that was why he was so raspy, though.  Had he argued against it?

Runaan’s words about their destination filtered through again when Callum asked innocently, “What’s a Nexus?”

“Did you say the Moon Nexus?” She yelped. “That’s where we are?”

“It’s where we’re going,” Runaan replied with a chuckle as he let go of her, stepping around to begin breaking camp.  She followed him automatically, rolling up their blankets and bedrolls from the ground. “Each Primal Source has a Nexus, a center of its power.  It isn’t so much a source as a concentration.  The Moon Nexus is a place of great power that was once the center of Moonshadow civilization as well.  Much of the mountains of southern and eastern Katolis were once our homelands.  We were driven away from them after the Mage Wars, but the Nexus cannot be moved, so we were forced to abandon it.  We left it in ruins, and to this day, a guardian remains there to ensure its power is not discovered, that it may never be abused.”

Rayla felt nearly giddy with excitement. “I didn’t realize we passed so close to it on our way into Katolis,” She said.

“If you studied our maps -” Ram started, and yelped - Rayla glanced over and assumed based on the direction of his glower that Skor had poked him unnecessarily hard with the sootheberry juice he was spreading on his wrist. 

“The maps are old!” She huffed. “An’ they were never that accurate about spaces anyway.”

“Children.” Runaan said with his usual exasperated tone, and she broke off the argument almost automatically. 

Callum interrupted before Ram could protest being lumped in with the children again. “So wait, are you saying there’s actually been a Moonshadow elf - just one - living in Katolis this entire time?  Whoa!”

“She has not always been alone, but yes,” Runaan said with a chuckle. “The Guardian there now is a mage of immense power and . . . unique wisdom, who has held her post for over three hundred years.” 

Callum kept asking questions, and Rayla couldn’t help doing the same.  Runaan and Skor were among the privileged few who had actually witnessed the Nexus before, and met the Guardian, but Runaan fielded their questions without requiring Skor’s participation.  Rayla noticed Ezran sticking close to the other swordsman, though, and Skor smiling faintly down at the boy as they packed up and set out from the cave.  

Surely, between the miracle healer and the Guardian, someone would know what to do about the egg.  Either way, she would get to see the place that was once the center of her people’s civilization, was still the center of their power.  She wondered if she’d feel any different as she got closer to it, and opted to ask Runaan.

The answer was likely not.

It did not deter her eagerness.  They were so close to success.  This had to work.

[writesowhatnext]

annoying? yes. boring? never. // james potter

Summary: James’ best friend has always been a muggle and, despite what everyone thought, they were just that; friends. Right?

Request: Hello there! If you write for James Potter, would you mind writing for him with the cliche prompts 'there’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close', 'blurting out a confession of love' and 'I’ve been in love with you for years' Thank you very much!!!

A/N: I fucking love this oml thanks for this request it’s literally made my week

Reader: female

Warnings: swearing, a mean boy, fist-fight?

At ten years old, James Potter had been pampered for a whole decade. His parents, who loved him a great deal, gave him everything he could ever wish for and more. So, when he came home one day after school with a friend, they did their best to accommodate, despite the fact that said friend was a muggle. Even at ten years old, you knew something was wrong with the Potter household. Some things moved if you looked at them for too long and you swore the eyes in the paintings followed you. Being a particularly bold and shameless child, you decided to ask James just why his house felt like it held its breath every time you came over. Being a particularly bold and shameless child himself, he told you that his family were wizards. From there began a very lovely friendship.

You spent every day at the Potters after that and whilst his parents made a habit to not parade magic around in front of you, James would often tell you magical stories about elves and wands and sweets and broomsticks. Most of all, he told you about Hogwarts.

“I’ve never been,” he said, lying on his stomach facing you as you lay on your back on the carpet of his massive bedroom. “But I’ve heard it’s amazing. It’s a massive castle and you’re put into four houses-“

“Houses?” you asked, sitting up and wiping dirt off your arm; you’d been playing in his garden all afternoon.

“Yes! Everyone is put into a house that’s most like them-“

“Like when we picked what Jungle Book characters we would be?”

“Exactly!” he smiled; glad he’d made a friend that understood him so well.

The week before he left for Hogwarts was one of the most bittersweet weeks of your life. You were excited for James and, thanks to a good word from the Potters to your parents, you could spend the whole week with him, but you were devastated that your best friend would be leaving you for a magical place you could never go to, to make friends you could never dream of.

“James,” you started, turning to face him. You were both lying on his floor, feet up against the wall with the Beatles playing in the background from his record player. “You won’t forget me at Hogwarts, will you?”

“Crikey, Y/N,” he turned to you, nudging your shoulder. “If it was that easy to get rid of you, I would’ve done it ages ago.”

He laughed at your gasp of mock offence, his guffaws only growing louder as you pushed him over and began to wrestle.

The first year without James was hard for you. At a new school, having to make all new friends with the knowledge that whilst you were doing maths and biology, he was learning about magical creatures and ridiculous spells, you struggled. It did help, though, that you received a letter from James almost daily. You weren’t sure how they got to you but once or twice you saw a strange looking bird fly away when you found them. His letters were full of his adventures and excited for you to meet his friends, he’d described them in detail which, although lame, you found very endearing. You were glad he hadn’t forgotten about you.

You were surprised that his parents hadn’t either. You got a call from Euphemia Potter on your family home phone around June time. She’d asked whether you were at school the next Thursday; you were, but she didn’t need to know that. And so, on that Thursday, you went with the Potters to Kings Cross station and waited for James to appear at platform number nine and three quarters. The whole journey there, they told you how much you’d grown since they last saw you and you didn’t understand what they meant until you saw James. He’d stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas and so you hadn’t seen him for nine months when he appeared with a trolley of bags, dressed in strange robes. He looked so different. He was taller now and his hair was much scruffier. You thought it suited him.

You’d never been so excited to see someone and you were pleasantly surprised that the feeling was mutual as you raced to hug each other. You spent most of the summer together, making up for lost time. He told you all about his lessons and teachers and how he and his friends would play pranks constantly.

“I’m shocked that you have friends.” You remarked, helping him put posters of Bob Dylan and Buddy Holly on his walls. You were very glad that he was being cultured on the taste of the time despite the whole wizarding boarding school thing.

“Now that’s just cold.”

You laughed at his wounded expression.

“Go on, tell me about Serious and Remy.”

“It’s Sirius and Remus, you know that. And Peter, too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, smiling so he knew you were only messing with him. “Strange names your lot have.”

Despite how much he wanted to tell you about his adventures, he always asked about how you were doing and what life was like at home. It was sweet, you thought, that he wanted to hear about your life. You told him about new friends you’d made and about how boring the lessons could be, fully aware that listening to someone talk about them would be just as dreadfully tedious as actually going. It didn’t matter, though, because for a whole summer you had your best friend back and life had never better. You tried not to think about how in September, he would just disappear again and you’d be left with another nine months without your favourite person.

The next months went by extortionately slowly and whilst you tried to be happy around your friends, nothing felt right without James. When you got a letter from him in the middle of English class, an owl, of all things, tapping at the window, you were beyond excited to hear that he would be coming back home the next week for summer. He said he was bringing his friend Sirius because his parents weren’t the nicest and whilst you were excited, you couldn’t help but feel nervous about meeting his friend – what would happen if he didn’t like you? You had to wait till the weekend to see him; your mum had found out about your ditching school last time and forced you to go in until the school finished for summer. On that Saturday morning, you all but ran to James’ house, hammering on the door in excitement.

When James opened the door, an ear-splitting grin on his face, you were surprised to see how much he’d grown in four months. He was taller, again, and he looked nice, a thought that repulsed you in a way. Heat rushed to your cheeks at your thoughts – this was James, your best friend, you didn’t see him like that. He didn’t even say hello before he pulled you inside and hugged you like there was no tomorrow. The hug didn’t help how flustered you were, his warm arms surrounding you tightly, but it was long overdue.

“So, this is the infamous Y/N.”

When you pulled away to find the source of the noise, you saw a tall boy with long dark hair and mischievous eyes.

“Does he talk about me?” you asked, elbowing James in the side before offering your hand to Sirius. The idea that James talked about you made you strangely happy.

“Does he ever shut up about you?”

James spent the next few days partially regretting combining the two greatest forces in his life. You and Sirius teamed up constantly to tease James, often sharing stories about how ridiculously headstrong he could be. Though he should’ve been mad, he enjoyed his best friends getting along immensely and something about seeing you and Sirius at the same time made something within him feel right.

“Has he told you about Lily?” Sirius asked, lying across James’ bed whilst you and James sat on the floor, staring at a chessboard. He said he needed the practice for something or other.

“Who’s Lily?”

You looked up at James to see him blushing and a strange discomfort came over you. You tried to convince yourself you weren’t jealous.

“She’s this Gryffindor girl-“

“Your house?” you asked, knocking over one of James’ bishops with a less gleeful grin than you had before. “Lions and stuff.”

“A perfect description.” James teased, earning him a flick in the forehead. He frowned at you, pushing his glasses up.

“Exactly.” Sirius smirked, resting his chin on his hand. “I think James here might be in love with her.”

“Oh really?” you asked, trying to fill your voice with as much curiosity as you could; you didn’t have the stomach for it, though. “Checkmate.”

You didn’t notice the sly smirk Sirius sent your way at your response, too busy looking at James, whose reaction to losing was, as always, piss poor.

They spent the rest of the holiday trying to teach you Quidditch which, as imagined, was hard with only a football and some sticks. You enjoyed yourself, though, and spending time with James and Sirius was so much fun. You began to understand the general idea of the game eventually, and James loved to see you pretend to fly on a stick as you threw the football at Sirius.

“You’d make a great beater.” He said over dinner, cutting into his food.

“Of course, I would.” You replied, earning a snort from Sirius.

“You’d probably make a better chaser than James, too.”

“Oi!” James flicked a pea over the table, earning a half-hearted scolding from his Father and a kick under the table from Sirius’ rather heavy boots.

“You should come around for dinner tomorrow, love, too.” Euphemia said as you stood at the door, ready to leave. James didn’t miss your apologetic expression.

“Sorry, Mrs Potter, my Mum wants me doing schoolwork tomorrow.”

“We’re going back to Hogwarts the next day, I won’t see you.” James said, pouting. You would’ve teased him but you felt the same; saying goodbye to James was always your least favourite part.

“You’ll just have to write to me every day.” You hugged him, oblivious to the eyes watching both of you.

“Of course, I will.”

He didn’t. It was the first time since you met him that you’d gone more than two days without hearing from James. It had been six already and you were worried. Part of you, undeniably, was jealous; his last letter had been about asking Lily to go on a date with him. You knew you probably would’ve liked Lily. From the way Sirius described her, she was tough and smart and you suspected you would’ve been good friends if she didn’t have James wrapped around her little finger. With your life getting busier with exams and school, and friends, you paid less attention to the fact that you hadn’t heard from James in months. It hurt, to say the least, to have your letters unanswered. You gave up sending them after a while, bored of only being hurt. You wanted to tell him that you’d been on your first date, if only to make him jealous for a moment before you told him about how awful it had been. You wanted to tell him that you’d gotten first prize at a competition at school. You didn’t though, he didn’t want to hear it.

Just before Christmas, you sent Sirius a letter. You felt desperate but you just needed to check that James was alright. A sick part of you hoped he wasn’t so you would feel less bad about him forgetting about you. To your surprise, Sirius replied in just four hours. How his owl flew that far, you had no idea, but you were grateful for any form of reply. The letter was short and blunt but quite kind, which you were grateful for. He said that James was busy with trying to get Lily to fancy him, an actually important issue with Remus and trying not to get kicked out of school. Though it hurt, you were pleased to know anything happening in his life. Sirius also said he was surprised James hadn’t replied to you, because he still talked about you non-stop. You figured that was Sirius lying for the sake of your feelings. You sent him a shorter letter back, thanking him, and then decided you got out of the habit of writing letters.

It was boxing day when someone knocked at your door like a man deranged. When you saw James standing there, on the verge of tears, the coldness in your heart that he’d caused thawed instantly and you beckoned him up to your room, despite your parents’ protests.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to ignore you, I swear, I just-“

You wrapped an arm around him as he cried. He took his glasses, off, rubbing tears from his eyes with his hand.

“I couldn’t tell you about Remus and that’s all I’ve thought about and there was nothing else to say- I couldn’t write, I couldn’t bring myself-”

“It’s okay, James, it’s okay. Go on, you can tell me, what’s wrong with Remus?” you asked, pushing his head under your chin to hold him closer. 

That night, he told you everything. Between sobs, he told you how worried he was for Remus when he turned (you were mentally trying to cope with the idea that werewolves exist), how his friends had turned into animals to protect him. Most of it went over your head, but you tried to listen for his sake. When he went back to Hogwarts that January, he wrote to you every single day without fail, sometimes twice if he had the time. Somehow, along the way, you felt like you had your James back – the same James but with very different feelings.

By the time summer rolled around, you were doing everything you could to take your mind off of him. You even started flirting with a boy to try to convince yourself you didn’t like James, a fact that seemed more improbable when you considered you might actually love him. You didn’t know when his term ended, he hadn’t said, and so you made yourself busy until he arrived, unsure of how you would react to him given your newly discovered but ever-present feelings.

You stood next to the corner shop, not having that much fun when he appeared. You were standing next to the boy you’d been flirting with and a couple of his friends. They’d been making jokes about something or other – you weren’t listening at all, even less so, when a familiar voice called your name.

“Oi! Y/N!”

You turned around to see James Potter, impossibly taller and more handsome and more James-like than you’d ever seen him.

“You alright, Potter?” you shouted, grinning as he came closer. You went to greet him but the boy next to you, jealous as anything, stepped in front of you.

“Who the fuck are you?” he said, trying to square up despite being dramatically shorter. At first, James didn’t reply. He just looked over the boy’s shoulder at you. You shrugged, frowning.

“My name’s James. I’d like to talk to Y/N, please.”

“My name’s James.” They mimicked in high pitched voices. You rolled your eyes.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” You went to leave when the boy opposite James grabbed your arm.

“Let me go.”

He didn’t.  So, with a sharp exhale, you drew your other arm back and punched him square in the jaw. A bark of laughter escaped James’ lips before you realised that three rather angry looking boys were staring at you both, one with a bruised jawline. James grabbed your hand and you ran.

You barely saw the alley but you guessed that was the idea as James pulled you in after him. Your back hit the wall and suddenly he was very, very close and you were both breathing heavily from the running. He hadn’t realised how wide the alley was until you were centimetres from him. That was, to say, not that wide. You barely noticed the boys run past, completely missing your hiding space.

“Why were you hanging around those muppets?” he asked, noticing how pretty your eyes were up close.

“My muppet left to go to a magical school for tweens – needed a replacement, didn’t I?”

“You’re so mean-“

“Am I so mean?”

“Yeah, you’re always rude to me-“

“Well maybe if you weren’t so-“

“I’m pretty sure I’m completely in love with you.”

You swallowed your words in surprise at his confession.

“I’ve been in love with you for years and I never realised.” He continued as if saying it out loud gave truth to something he’d known all along. “And I think you punching that guy in the face was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some pretty magical shit.”

You nodded, a small smile making its way onto your face. The blooming feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away; it only worsened when he smiled. It was a familiar smile, a smile that reminded you of home more than anything else could.

“See?” you said softly, biting your top lip. “I might be a muddle but I’m not too boring.”

“Muggle.”

“What did you just call me?”

As if that were the most perfect thing you could’ve said he tipped his head to the side and looked at you. His hand lifted to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“You have never ever been boring.”

And with that, he leant forward and kissed you. You tipped your head against the brick wall, grateful that you had a best friend as stupid as him.

[shiroandblack]

Finwë, the Progenitor of the 'Fins'

[Disclaimer: what you are about to read are basically my thoughts and interpretation of Finwë. So if you have different thoughts and opinions that's perfectly fine]

Oh, and I'm totally not doing this because I'm procrastinating on the Fëanor thought-vomit I have going on in my head. Pfft, absolutely not!

Finwë, High King of the Noldor, Daddy to Fëanor, Findis, Fingolfin, Lalwen, and Finarfin (not that kind of daddy, get yer minds out of the gutter), husband to both Míriel and Indis, the Ned Stark of the Silmarillion, (depending on who you ask) the Fin to Elu's Finelwë -

I should stop.

First of all, we have no idea where this guy came from (I think?). He just suddenly popped out as an ambassador who basically went out with his buddies (OG Goldilocks and Tall Boy) to scout Valinor and see if the elves should move there or not. Prior to that, Finwë is not mentioned anywhere. People are generally divided if he was Tata's son as was Ingwë being Imin's son and Elwë being Enel' or if he's Unbegotten. Some also headcanon him as an orphan with his parents gone via Morgoth Kidnapping which was why he was chosen as an ambassador. I mean, magical guy on horse saying he'll take their society somewhere? I wouldn't really send the heirs or chieftains, I'd send someone competent enough to be a diplomat but ultimately no great loss to the tribal society of Cuiviénen (my god did I spell that right) if magical guy does pull a Dark Rider. Personally I do think that if he was indeed an orphan, it would explain some things in particular, like his want for many children and just a big family in general.

Anyways, the three go on their joy trip to Valinor and come back and go like "come, come, there are two pretty trees and no Dark Rider". I personally would have gone because of the no Dark Rider part but hey, if you like shiny, glowing trees and that's your main motivation, no judgement. Right after that, we don't know what happens to Imin, Tata, or Enel. Working on the assumption that the three are different people to the three '-wë's then they could have become Avari since the Avari are Tatyar and Nelyar. Interestingly, the Minyar all go and there is no more mention of Imin despite he was chieftain of all chieftains and then suddenly Ingwë is High King of all Elves? I'm gonna go with @squirrelwrangler's Klingon route here from their story 'Of Ingwë Ingweron' because I think there should be more depth to Ingwë and on a completely irrelevant note I have had a crush on 'the boy who would be Ingwë' since I started reading. You probably didn't need to know that, but now you do :)

(As you can see, I'm being very objective.)

BACK TO THE MAIN POINT. THIS IS A POST ABOUT FINWË. So anyways, the Great Journey happened and for some reason he and Elwë decide to meet up in a forest to do what nobody knows. Anyways, Elwë got skadooshed by Melian and Finwë went to Aman forever regretting the fact that he never got to do Elwë - I MEAN DO WHATEVER HE AND ELWË PLANNED in the woods of Nan Elmoth.

There he got married. Now, this is where I actually stop making fun of Finwë (yeah, no) and give you my interpretations and analysis which none of you have asked for but I'm doing anyways. So right off the bat, even when Míriel is obviously tired from giving birth to the baby who is his own crematorium - sorry, I meant Fëanàro - Finwë goes like "oh he's so pretty, I'm sure our other kids will be just as pretty". Which goes to show us that Finwë likely wanted an armada of kids right from the start. Y'all know what happens next. Point is, Míriel's dead and gone and Finwë is understandably a Sad Boy™.

Now, he also exhibits a certain impatient streak after Míriel dies. Surely he knew that the more he bothered Míriel about "hey, when are you gonna come back?" the more obstinate Míriel would be about not returning. I say he is impatient because he is an elf. He technically has all the time in Arda to wait for Míriel to return, but curiously he doesn't wait. Now, Fëanor was born in YT 1169 and Fingolfin in YT 1190 and since one YT is about 10 solar years (I'm pretty sure it's 9.8 years ish but I suck at maths so please have mercy on me) that means that Fëanor was around 200 years old when Fingolfin was born and we know Findis is elder. 200 years for an elf is not long at all, hell to the elven perception of time Finwë marrying Indis is probably like someone going out dating after 40 days of abstinence after a break up. This means that he married Indis relatively quickly after Míriel died, which shows that he was very eager for the marriage to happen.

Why? Was it because he knew Míriel wouldn't return for a very long time? Or was it because he wanted more kids? Or maybe that impatience is just intrinsic to Finwë's character? I actually don't know what to make of his motivations regarding this, so I'd love to hear anyone's opinions.

Finwë supposedly fell in love with Indis when he was going to visit Ingwë and saw her singing and the light was golden and Indis glowed and yeah. Prior to that, they most likely met in Tirion or even in Cuiviénen as Indis was close kin to Ingwë so I highly doubt that this was their first meeting and Indis was in love with Finwë since the early days of when the Vanyar and Noldor still stayed together in Tirion. This does make me wonder that even when Finwë was married to Míriel, were there seeds of feelings towards Indis? No, I am not saying he had an affair with Indis while married to Míriel, but you can feel attracted to someone even while married to another. But considering Finwë's favouritism towards Fëanor, I don't think this was the case and he probably began falling in love with Indis when he saw her singing and being basked in golden light. I do wonder what would have happened if he saw her picking her nose instead but hey, elves don't pick their noses in the Silm because all the nose dirt is removed by the sheer amount of times they must've cried in the First Age. Snotty crying ftw.

Many people in-universe seem to think that his second marriage was a mistake, but I do not think his marriage per say was a mistake. To me Finwë had the right to move on from Míriel, but what I don't agree with was that the Valar basically locked her up in Mandos for eternity. But this is a point of conflict that I feel I should address in a separate post about the Valar. In any case, what I think was the mistake was Finwë's impactful favouritism of Fëanor and his failure to reconcile Fëanor and his children by Indis. As there are a lot of external factors to him being unable to make his kids get along, I will be focusing more on the negative effects of his favouritism.

Finwë's marriage to Indis seems almost like a spontaneous decision, I don't think he actually sat Fëanor down and explained things to him quite well. After all, in Fëanor's mind Indis is the reason his mother is forever dead which is not really the case. Finwë wanted to marry Indis and Indis wanted to marry Finwë. It takes two to make the relationship work, after all. But despite Indis giving him what he wanted which is more children and a big family in general, Finwë still favoured Fëanor. Now I do get favouritism because everyone has favourites, but Finwë's favouritism only served to create more strife between Fëanor and Fingolfin. With one child, he lavishes praise and attention to the point that it's detrimental to Fëanor's growth as a person and with the other children, Fingolfin felt ignored enough to tailor his entire life into proving that he is more worthy to be Finwë's heir to - for a lack of better word - get his father to look at him the same way Finwë looks at Fëanor.

I don't doubt that Finwë loved his kids. I think he did love both Fëanor and his children by Indis, but the thing is . . . his actions always show that he loved Fëanor more. And I think that must have been devastating for his other children and what was the worst in my opinion is that Finwë doesn't seem to realise this. This could be a form of selective ignorance on Finwë's part or it could simply be that Finwë felt that he was giving equal attention to his children and that Fëanor needed more attention because he didn't have a mother. This is a logical thought process for him, but just because something seems logical it doesn't mean it's the right thing. Personally, I think Finwë's feelings towards Fëanor revolve around love and guilt and that guilt over denying Fëanor a birth mother makes him put Fëanor on a pedestal above his other children.

Now I'm gonna dive in to the circumstances up to his death. Prior to the infamous 'point-a-sword-at-traitorous-half brother' incident, the Noldor already had factions brewing under each of Finwë's sons. Which means that there were different groups supporting different sons (I'm just gonna give this quick glance because Noldorin elf politics and succession matters requires its own post honestly), both Fëanor and Fingolfin's group were advocating for these two princes to be Finwë's heir while Finarfin's most likely stayed neutral as throughout the text Finarfin has shown no real desire for kingship as his brothers (well, little did he know that his mother-name would come true in an arguably sad way). What is very interesting is the fact that Fingolfin thought he could be king after Finwë to begin with, which suggests to me that Finwë hadn't formally declared an heir. Usually it is assumed that the eldest son is heir and there would be no formal declaration needed, but the thing is Finwë had sons by a different queen and what's more is Fingolfin and Finarfin were the children of the ruling queen. Why he didn't do a formal declaration, I do wonder, because while it may have embittered Fingolfin for awhile I do think that if Fëanor had been assured of his position then maybe the two could have had some semblance of a healthy relationship. Maybe he viewed it as causing a greater rift between his children?

Now we finally get on to the sword pulling incident. We all know what happens, so I'll just skip on to the aftermath. Fëanor is exiled by Manwë, Finwë views this as an insult to his authority. I do agree that this can be viewed as that because as a Noldo, Fëanor should answer to the king of the Noldor and Manwë is exiling someone who is not his subject. But the thing is, Finwë probably wasn't going to really punish him and that's why Manwë stepped in. Hell, we have no evidence of a trial going on for what Fëanor did. But the thing is, this isn't just a regular Fëanor and Fingolfin screaming match this was Fëanor actually threatening harm to Fingolfin in front of everyone. The guy literally sashayed into the room, wearing armour and drew a sword. This must have been the equivalent of a bank robber drawing out a loaded gun to the elves.

Anyways, ya know what good ol' Finwë did to protest against Manwë's interference and Fëanor getting exiled -

He incited the Fourth Shinobi War -

No, he just yeeted off with Fëanor. Look guys, I have neutral feelings towards Fingolfin I mean he is no victim (in general) because he has done some pretty presumptuous things (which is what makes him interesting, let's be honest), but I have never ever felt so bad for him before. Hell, this is an even worse 'fuck you' then making him cross the Helcaraxë because Fingolfin's main motivation in life thus far is probably to be equal to Fëanor in Finwë's eyes. I mean, he did leave Fingolfin regent (did he? Oh gosh, I honestly forgot) but still dealt an emotional blow anyways.

Right, so we don't get much of what Finwë did in Formenos but maybe this whole thing was just for him to get a holiday. And then Melkor comes and fucks shit up by killing Finwë. Now, I'm going to talk about Finwë's murder and why it is in my opinion the Inciting Incident™ of the Silm, the Chekhov's gun being fired so to speak, the equivalent of Ned Stark's execution in the Tolkienverse. Everything else, Melkor's lies, the creation of the Silmarils, the drama between the brothers, it was a build up to this moment. And everything after, the exile of the Noldor, the War of the Jewels, it was what happened because of Finwë's murder. Prior to this, there were already factions among the Noldor as previously discussed above but none of these factions actually openly made any moves against each other. Why? Because Finwë was still alive, because Finwë was essentially the lynchpin holding the Noldor together. Now, I'm pretty sure that Morgoth killed Finwë just to fuck Fëanor's shit up even more, but what he did was quite tactically brilliant. He has effectively wrought chaos among the Noldor in one single swoop.

And thus the Quenta Silmarillion happens.

In Mandos, he meets Míriel and tells her about his life. Because maybe it went something like this:

Finwë: so yeah, you know I was with our son all the way through and then I died. What have you been doing?

Míriel: oh, you know the usual things one does when one is condemned to Mandos for eternity.

Anyways, he gives up any opportunity for life for Míriel. Which is admittedly a nice thing to do since the reason Míriel is kinda stuck there is related to him, until you find out Míriel weaves the history of the House of Finwë instead of well, I don't know building the Mírindis ship? Yeah, she probably weaved Fingon getting his head smashed open by Gothmog and getting his corpse trampled. Oh and the 'If I Die, You Die' duel between Celegorm and Dior which probably wasn't as badass as Katniss' "If we burn, you burn with us" line from Mockingjay made it seem but more bloody and violent. Also Maedhros throwing himself off into a fiery chasm. Finrod getting mauled by a werewolf.

Good times, I'm sure.

But hey, at least Fëanor comes within a few seconds after stepping into Beleriand to keep him company.

So, I'm done with teasing my analysis of Finwë. Thank you for your time. Have a nice day.

Just keep procrastinating <3

[cupcakecoterie]

@true0neutral - Hazel, half-elf cleric

@fauxfire76 - Darvin, human bard/sorcerer

@miaaoi - Froseth, dragonborn monk

@hyperewok1 - Remi, human paladin/warlock

@lindira - Clarity, tiefling rogue/warlock

Marion - Ava, human ranger

Brian - Barnabus, minotaur fighter

@lovemmawesome - Rylan, wood elf sorcerer

New player! I’d been holding off on posting the vids because I’d hoped to be able to change the intro to reflect new player, but I still need to get in touch with one artist and @ladyzolstice is busy until at least the new year so the thumbnail won’t reflect things anyway so better to post them as I can. I mean, I’m going to have to reshuffle everything in the intro anyway so that’ll take awhile. That kind of backlog I do not want to deal with. Three sessions is enough. ...Anyway.

Breakfast happened, and the usual discussion of Things. They tried to get themselves organised as best they could for what was going to be one hell of a study session in Damyl’s Silver Vault. Barnabus was invited to a pre-lunch date with Vieve Alled, once she’d had a chance to find out whether His Majesty of Chaos and Misrule had used Barnabus’ ‘way home’ and thus locked it to him, preventing Barnabus from ever getting it back.

And then that all more or less went out the window when, after marvelling at the night-sky planetarium feel of the Antechamber of Stars, they found a wood elf individual who’d apparently gone looking for them. This individual - Rylan - had gone to the Scroll of Heroes to find out where the Cupcake Coterie were, and got “Turn around” as far as their location went. That was amusing.

Not everyone could pick their section of the Silver Vault to unlock right away, since there was so much to deal with and so many subdivisions. Froseth and Hazel went with mythology - stories of the gods; Remi and Barnabus, after some maths and some help from Darvin, picked military campaigns of the Southern Lands around the time of the Quickflight Diminutives’ run (since that would net them information about campaigns involving the black corruption). The others waited until they had a bit more information from the first two groups to better pinpoint the area that would be most helpful to them.

Then they went to hear Rylan’s report. Rylan filled them in on what had happened in the Elvenwild when they left following their confrontation with Ava’s half-sister and Hazel’s biological mother (and subsequent trip to the Shadowfell). Apparently after getting out of the Shadowfell, Ava’s half-dragon half-sister had enlisted further help in completely subjugating that bit of the Elvenwild - entities that looked like dragonborn but were corrupted beyond all sense. (It didn’t take much for them to figure out that these things had once been not only dragonborn, but the silver dragonborn - some of them might even have been from Froseth’s original home.) The High Elf palace was overrun, the tainted drow came out in force, and what few wood elves hadn’t evacuated ended up more or less under siege. Rylan got out specifically to warn the few people who had been known to be able to fight this kind of shit, being teleported to the Eun-Bac border and making the trek with a different pack of the People.

All that news caused the Cupcake Coterie to rethink their approach to the dragon problem in Baronsvere. Varydel, the white sitting on Grey’s Inn, is still a priority, just to keep the dragon-engendered winter from ice-locking their fields and starving them all. However, while the black dragon going by Jain Nerrand III was going to be last on the list, the fact that the Elvenwild situation is so involved now means it will take far more time to deal with, so the so-called king gets dealt with next.

Those who hadn’t picked a section of Silver Vault to unlock kept Rylan company while the others did what they could in their own sections. Froseth and Hazel got an ampitheatre that literally showed the myths happening in front of them. They saw Tiamat getting slammed through the Shattered Lands and into Avernus, saw Tharizdun become the Chained Oblivion and yeeted into noplace, Tharizdun conning Tiamat into toying with the black corruption, and how Lolth was turned from a goddess of order and pattern to the chaos-goddess she has since become.

(Yes, this is homebrew; I come from a WoD background and spiders are of pattern, not chaos no matter how you slice it.)

Remi and Barnabus, meanwhile, got a war table that looked like something you’d get for a really good Warhammer game, with ‘minis’ that moved independently and outlined battles in real time. After some flailing at the list of campaigns, they focused on the smaller scale operations rather than the massive battles and learned that the massive battles were distractions to allow smaller scale operations to go ahead - and that those were focused on ‘wellsprings’ of the black corrupting sludge. They didn’t get as much detail as they might have liked about how the Quickflight Diminutives attacked wellsprings, or whether they’d destroyed the wellspring or just blocked it off, but that at least they can ask later.

Lunch happened, and the pre-lunch meeting with Vieve Alled. She unfortunately told Barnabus that the Archfey Lord had used Barnabus’ ‘way home’ right away, to test it. Apparently Zivilyn might have a way to let him get back home (I said Ziriel in the vid but that’s the trouble with having too many Z-names) but that’s going to have to wait until it’s safe for Zivilyn to be again. Vieve also did two other things - she explained what would have happened if Barnabus hadn’t made that deal (nothing good) ... and she let Barnabus send a brief message to his mother, in the short time that even that little was possible.

Remi also had a word with Vieve, letting her know what Rylan had said, and she had a name for the corrupted dragonborn - draconians. Alisaie has the bestiary available to her, so she’s going to be doing some research on that - and to see if there’s any further information on what happens to other sapient species when exposed to the black corrupting sludge.

They set the research tasks for those who didn’t have one yet - Clarity was going to be looking up usable teleportation circles in Baronsvere (so teleportation-specific Conjuration magic), Darvin picked up the bard tales from the time period and area that Remi and Barnabus were studying military campaigns from, Ava was going to look up more basic history from the same time frame, and Alisaie still left her unlock alone because she had the bestiary to go through and they might need something else looked into based on what the others found.

They might have to ask Froseth’s little big sister Farideh about what happened when their community was invaded and corrupted, but no one’s looking forward to asking the poor kid about the situation that killed her.

Comforting hugs and lunch happened, and a very nervous Rylan (who’d been invited to join them as they went to try to conquered the corruption blighting the Elvenwild), and everyone was asked to handle the research stuff behind the scenes so it didn’t eat too much session time.

(Spoiler - only about half of them did. We figured it out. But that’s for next session.)

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

Are You Receiving Me Clear?

Post-TTM Callum finds a Startouch elf to help him learn where Rayla is.

-----------------

Callum stared at the Startouch elf before him. The woman was ageless and looked at him with eyes that held such wisdom but also a sense of playfulness. Were all Startouch elves like this, he wondered. Lujanne had sent him to Najma to start his quest to find Rayla after he had gone after her. Callum still didn’t understand why she had left him behind, but he couldn’t leave her on her own when there were still people loyal to Viren’s cause out there.

“Are you Najma?” he finally asked. She had gestured him to come in when she had opened her door but they had yet to exchange a word as they had sized each other up.

The woman smiled again, moving her hand to tuck back her white hair that lay under a loose veil. “Yes.” Even her voice portrayed a sense of being far older than even the castle back in Katolis but also as young as a teenager experiencing their first love. “How can I help you, Prince Callum?”

“You…you know who I am?”

“Yes. Word has travelled fast and far of a human prince who can use the Sky arcanum without a primal stone. There has been no one like you in a very, very long time.”

That gave him pause. “Wait, there were others like me? I thought-”

“A handful of select humans were capable of figuring it out before you. I could probably count the number on my hand and I never met them myself.”

“Oh.”

“But that’s not why you are here.” Raising a glass to her lips, she watched him with warm eyes. Callum shifted in the chair she had gestured for him to sit in when he had knocked on her door. “I rarely get visitors, you know. Who sent you?”

“Lujanne.”

“Ah. We met twice. Once when she was starting her mage training and was getting in all kinds of trouble. The second time…well, Lujanne had failed one too many times and was being sentenced to guard the Moon Nexus.”

“I thought,” Callum furrowed his brows and licked his lips, “I thought that it was an honor for talented mages to go guard the Moon Nexus.”

“That’s what they say, but it’s a punishment. There are no other elves around and the Cursed Caldera, until recently, had to be guarded with visions, so little interaction with humans. Also, the only real source of sustenance is grubs.” Putting her chin on her closed fist, Najma observed him for a few moments. “You know how Moonshadow elves put such value on pride, but there’s also a strong element of secrecy and tradition in their culture.”

“Isn’t all of Xadia like that?”

Humming, she nodded her head back and forth. “Yes and no. There’s degrees of it depending on the culture. Tidebounds are more secretive than Sunfires but not as secretive as Moonshadow elves. At least, not intentionally. Startouch elves are more about observing the celestial bodies, science, mathematics, applying it to art and the world around us. Startouch mages have to learn for many years how the universe bends and twists and how to do so to our bidding without breaking the rules of the arcanum. And then there’s time, which doesn’t flow quite as straight as people think it does. It goes backwards and forwards and twists and turns. We cannot control time, but we have to understand it’s place in the universe in order to properly understand the stars.”

Captivated by her words, Callum leaned forward in his chair. “Do you think it’s possible for me to learn?”

“I don’t know. Of the few human mages before you, to my knowledge, they never got star magic. It takes work and theory and it’s a far more applied science than moon magic is, for example.”

“Would you teach me?”

“Is that why you are here?” There was humor in her voice, but also distrust.

“No. My girlfriend, Rayla, is a Moonshadow elf and she left in the middle of the night. We entered the space between life and the other side and she didn’t see people there she thinks were supposed to be. So, she left and only told me she was getting answers. I want to find her.”

“I can do that for you. As for teaching you Startouch magic, I don’t know. We can certainly try, but you will need to study quite a bit before we even attempt star magic.”

“How will you help me find her?”

“I cannot give you an exact location, but I can give you a projection of her by calling on the stars. If your connection is strong enough, as long as you focus on her, you should be able to see her and get a rough idea of where she is. If she is connected to you, she might be able to see you.”

“So, it’s like my body is moving towards her?”

“No, a projection of you. Your body and your spirit will not be moving anywhere.”

“OK. What do we do?”

“Just focus on her. Let me do the rest. Come with me.” Callum followed Najma to a round, empty room. “Focus, Prince Callum.”

“You can just call me Callum. Please.”

She smiled, the twinkle that was ever present became stronger. “Alright. Callum. Focus on Rayla, on your relationship, the good and the bad. Also, don’t be too shocked by what you see.” Callum emptied his mind of everything except Rayla; her smile, her laughter, how crazy she drove him, but also how much he loved her.

He heard Draconic coming from Najma, eyes growing wide as the center of the room grew a bright dot before expanding out. Suddenly, what looked like dust was moving around before swirling and forming spheres of light and colors he would never have guessed were in the sky above him. He heard music, something that sounded like an old instrument he couldn’t place and another he had never even heard before, but in a rhythm he both recognized and knew he had never heard before.

Najma was doing nothing but holding out her hands and watching him. Callum tried to keep his mind focused on Rayla, but the longer time passed, the more he realized he was watching the birth of the universe occur in front of his eyes. The spheres moved and expanded all over the room. Finally, a small blue and green sphere was in front of him. An image about as large as a mirror came forward, cloudy with wavy edges.

There was a forest before zooming forward and he saw her: Rayla. She was leaning on a tree with her arms crossed, glaring at the ground. A hand was on her shoulder, attached to a muscular arm, and what looked like a masculine shape. Callum bit his lip, but stamped down the jealousy welling in his stomach. There were other figures present, off to the side, and Callum could not deny that there was comfort in knowing Rayla wasn’t alone. If she had help with whatever she was trying to find, maybe it would help guarantee she would come back to him.

He felt a breeze ruffle his hair and his lips parted, holding his hand out as he whispered Rayla’s name. To his shock, she looked up. Those lavender eyes he loved so much went wide and he knew she saw him even though no one else in her group seemed to notice. He could see her mouth his name and her hand slowly lifting up to him, as if to grasp his own. Before she could, the image faded and Callum was left with the universe in miniature around him. The projection continued to expand before he saw the spheres exploding and eventually, everything went dim. “That was…incredible,” he whispered.

“I’m assuming you know what that was.”

“The life of the universe.”

“Very good. As I said, Startouch mages can bend and twist the space and magic that the stars give us, but we also have to understand time and space. All things are made up of star stuff, so we can give you visions of the here and now, but we cannot teleport you to someone’s side or even show you visions of the futre. There are limitations. Do you know where she is?”

“Xadia, for sure. I think she’s in Earthblood territory.”

“Will you go after her?”

Callum paused, looking at Najma before looking at his hands. He could have a chance to at least learn about the star arcanum even if he never was able to use star magic and he now knew Rayla was safe. Ezran and Soren had promised him that if they needed him back home, they would contact Lujanne and she would find a way to contact him. “I…I want to be with Rayla, but if she really thinks she needs to do this without me, at least I know she isn’t alone now. I want to learn from you, Najma. Please, teach me about the star arcanum.”

“What if you can’t use star magic?”

“At least I’ll have learned more about magic and the universe we live in.”

“Hmm.” She regarded him for a few moments before finally nodding her head. “I’ll give you a trial period of two weeks. If I don’t like how you act or if you don’t listen to me, I’m kicking you out.”

“Deal.”

--------------------------------

Rayla ignored Liam as he continued trying to flirt with her, focusing on her internal crisis. She had seen a vision of Callum and she knew it had not been her mind playing tricks on her or any of her compatriots. They didn’t know what Callum looked like and none of them were Moonshadow elves. She had come across a band of two Skywing elves and three Sunfire elves a few weeks ago and had joined them on their quest after they promised to help her find Viren. They didn’t know she was the Moonshadow elf that was now famously engaged in courtship with a human prince or that she had been at the Spire. They didn’t ask questions as long as she didn’t ask any either.

‘I promise, I will find a way back to you,’ she whispered in her mind to Callum, wherever he was. ‘Just give me time. I have to do this, for me, for my family, for us. I love you, My Heart, and I am sorry I left you. Please, be safe.’

------------------

If you can guess the song the title is a reference to, I would be amazed. When that particular lyric is used, that's roughly what I think Callum was hearing in the projection.

This fic also has my personal theories on why Lujanne is solo in guarding the Moon Nexus and how Startouch magic works. I believe that Startouch elves are based on the Moors from the Iberian Peninsula who advanced math and astronomy and their magic involves understanding science and how stars work.

[hongyueg]

When an Orc Teaches a Math Class

What happens when Bolg's father gets accepted as his high school's new math teacher? https://archiveofourown.org/works/31756993 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Bolg heard the news his father had been accepted as The Middle-earth Academy for Cooperation and Mutual Success’ new math teacher, two things popped into his mind. The first being that he would allow no one to learn the new math teacher was his father and the second being he was going to avoid the math department as much as possible when he arrived at The Middle-earth Academy for Cooperation and Mutual Success (or MACMutS as everybody called it) in the Fall for his second year of high school.

“I can’t believe it!” Azog, Bolg’s father, exclaimed in Orkish as he pointed at his computer screen (and, yes, Orcs did have internet) for the seventeenth time.

Bolg, who sat at the kitchen table, nodded. He stared through the entrance of their home at the mountains in the distance. The ridges’ dark colors were comforting like the soup his father made during the Winter months. All the Orcs in their commune always jostled over to their dwelling as soon as they smelled the aroma of Azog’s signature dish seeping out of the little hut. With his dad now working at MACMutS full-time, Bolg wondered how their comrades would fare without him.

“This is wonderful,” Azog babbled on. “I’m finally going to meet new people, make connections, and see the world!”

~~~

A month and eleven days later, Azog and Bolg were off to see the world, or rather off to travel by train for eight hours and seven minutes to get to Gondor from Gundabad. After a little hassle at the train station to get a taxi to Minas Tirith (the problem was that Orcs didn’t have a system based on currency, so it was a bit hard to convince a Human driver to take them for free. Azog eventually just gave the Human his phone number and promised to do car maintenance for no charge at any time. Bolg was a bit skeptical how this could happen since Azog didn’t own any equipment to do car repairs, but the driver accepted the deal, so Bolg stayed silent), they arrived just outside the school’s main gates.

“How did you get here last time?” Azog huffed as he pulled the last of the luggage out of the taxi and waved the driver goodbye. Azog had brought an extra luggage bag just for his cooking ingredients to his son’s disapproval.

Bolg scratched his pale bald head. He didn’t want to admit he had relied on a Dwarvish prince he had met on the train to pay for his fare. “Uh, I just gave the driver the rest of the snacks you had packed me.”

“This will need to change,” Azog declared. “I will speak to the administration and make sure they give Orc students a pass to get free taxi rides. This school is supposed to be the symbol of acceptance and how can it live up to that ideal when it’s a financial struggle for some of their students to even get here.”

Bolg had stopped listening to his father as he noticed a few other students, non-Orcs who were probably First Years, gaping in their direction. He could somewhat understand their astonishment. Orcs only left their secluded communities for political or educational reasons and it had been over three hundred years since any major force of Orcs had participated in the continent’s wars. Still, Orcs weren’t that rare. If anything, they were much more numerous than Elves. Maybe they come from rural communities. Wait, why am I making excuses for them? They shouldn’t be staring . He glared at them and they hastily turned their gazes away.

“Well, Bolg, I’ll let you go to your dorm room. It’s a shame that you aren’t in any of my classes, but I will certainly see you around!”

As he trudged away from his father, Bolg prayed they would never cross paths inside the school.

~~~

“Bolg, what do you think of the new math teacher?” Rosie Cotton, a Hobbit in his year and one of his new dorm hallmates, asked as they headed off to the cafeteria together. The height difference was considerable between the two of them and Bolg had to bend down to hear her. The good thing was Rosie usually just chattered on without waiting for Bolg to reply, so if he missed a few words here and there, it was rarely an issue.

Bolg squinted his eyes against the late Summer sun, which was still bright despite the fact it was nearly evening. Orc eyes aren’t meant for this much luminosity. A pang of homesickness shot through him as he missed the cool, dark mountains around Gundabad. “Yeah, I think it’s great the school is hiring an Orc to be on their faculty.” He felt appreciative that Orcs didn’t have last names. No one had to know that Azog was his father and he preferred not to answer questions about how Orcs were birthed.

“Me, too! The school has been pretty good about having a diverse set of teachers and administrators, so it’s about time they hired an Orc. Ooh, I heard from Fredegar Bolger…” And Rosie rambled on until they arrived at the dining commons and went their separate ways.

After Bolg had picked up a steaming bowl of rabbit soup, he found his way over to his friends. It had been a couple months since he had spoken to any of them. While he did have internet back home, the connection wasn’t strong enough for video chatting.

“Bolg,” Gothmog cried, slapping his fat peach-colored hand against Bolg’s back as Bolg slid down on the bench beside the Mordorian Orc. “Good to see you. I was worried that you were never going to show up.”

“What, Gothmog? I was just finishing unpacking.” Bolg glanced at the other people at the table. There was Yazneg, an Orc from Moria, Shagrat, a Black Uruk from Cirith Ungol, and three dwarves from the Lonely Mountain who were all related and named Bifur, Bofur, and Bumbur. Off at the edge of the table was their year’s loner, a Human named Aragorn. Rumor had it that Aragorn had been raised by Elves, but had been kicked out for undisclosed reasons. He currently lived as a nomad among the Rangers of the North. The theories for why the Elves supposedly shunned Aragorn were vast and Bolg, despite having sat at the same dining table as the boy everyday of the last school year, still had no knowledge of Aragorn’s true history.

Bolg only half-listened to his friends as he slurped his stew. Shagrat complained about the creepy giant spider that lived next to his commune’s settlement. The dwarfs discussed how the mining expenditures in the East were progressing. Not like the Orcs really cared as money meant little to them.

“Y’know that new math teacher?” Yazneg’s voice jolted through his ears. Bolg spit his stew back into his bowl.

The others, even Aragorn, stared at Bolg.

“You okay, buddy?” Bofur asked, his dark brown eyes brimming with worry.

Bolg took a steady breath and placed his bowl back down onto the table with a soft clink. “Y-yes. Um, what were you saying about the new math teacher, Yazneg?”

Yazneg frowned, but carried on. “I was just gonna say that when I mentioned his name to my commune, they said that he was originally from Moria, but moved to Gundabad when he was young. I just found it kinda strange. For you non-Orcs, it’s rare that one of us leaves the place where we’re from. Bolg, you’re from Gundabad. Do you know anything about Azog?”

Once again, all eyes were on him. Bolg chewed his lip. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

Everyone continued to peer at him until Gothmog broke the silence by bragging about a difficult wrestling tournament he had won over the Summer.

Bolg’s secret was safe.

~~~

At least that’s what he had thought. They had all finished eating and saying their goodbyes. Bolg had been heading over to catch up with Rosie who was exiting the dining hall by herself when he felt a firm hand grasp his wrist.

Tense, he twisted around to see Aragorn looking up at him with narrowed eyes. Bolg trembled and had to remind himself that he was a Gundabad Orc and Gundabad Orcs weren’t scared of anything. “Why didn’t you tell them that Azog is your father?” Aragorn asked in a low voice.

Bolg glanced around him to make sure there were no onlookers. Fortunately, most other students were too occupied catching up with their friends and eating to notice Bolg and Aragorn. “I-I...How did you know?”

Aragorn shrugged. “I’ve heard about your father before. As Yazneg says, it’s rare for an Orc to leave their commune.”

“You Rangers spy on us?”

“You’re not answering my question.” Aragorn released Bolg’s wrist.

Bolg rubbed it. Aragorn had been gripping his wrist tight. “Do I have to? You never tell anyone your history, so why should I tell you mine?”

The Human sighed. “Fair point. Okay, keep your secrets to yourself, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else.” With that, Aragorn strode away.

~~~

Why did Bolg want to keep his father’s identity a secret? Aragorn’s question rattled Bolg’s brain for the rest of the night. Luckily, if his roommate Faramir noticed, he didn’t say anything as they both prepared for bed.

Bolg lay on his mattress, staring at the darkness glittering around him. He had chosen the bed farthest from the window because light and Orcs didn’t exactly mix, but the usual comfort gloom gave him wasn’t there.

He turned onto his side again, the frame creaking underneath him as he moved.

“Hey, Bolg, are you alright?” On the other side of the room, the lamp flicked on, spreading glaring light across the open space.

Bolg sat up and twisted around to see Faramir peering at him. The young Human’s long dark hair was a bit tussled from lying down and his gray eyes appeared concerned. Bolg didn’t know much about his roommate beyond the fact he was the Gondorian steward’s son. He had thought it was a bit strange that Faramir had chosen to stay on campus when he lived not too far away in a palace, but decided he wasn’t in a place to question a noble’s decision.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” Bolg stammered.

“Just wanted to make sure since you’ve moved around at least five times now.”

Nine, Bolg thought to himself. “Yeah, everything’s good. I’m just stressing about something stupid. Not something anybody would care to listen to.”

“Try me. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” The Human gave a little smile.

Bolg had never talked to anybody about his feelings before. It wasn’t something accepted in Orkish culture. If you had an issue, you just complained about the person closest in proximity to you and then wrestled with them until you felt better. Bolg didn’t feel like wrestling with Faramir. “Um, well, it’s about a certain someone. I don’t want anyone knowing about my, uh, connection to them because it’s just so embarrassing and he’s just so embarrassing and he doesn’t exactly fit certain standards and I think everybody would think I’m weird for being connected to him and then it...I would be a mess…”

Bolg stared at the ground. He was so glad that Orcs didn’t blush or he would be bright red right now.

“You have a crush on someone?” Faramir asked, his eyebrows raised. “It’s fine if you do. Feeling embarrassed about crushes is normal and you never know, maybe he likes you back. If you want help reaching out to him, whoever he is, I can help out-”

“No,” Bolg interjected. Another wave of gratefulness for Orcs’ inability to blush sparked through him. “It’s not a crush. It’s my...father.” Getting that last word out felt like trying to push Mount Gundabad over a few inches.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Bolg turned his attention to a tiny moth fluttering by Faramir’s lamp. “He’s the new math teacher.”

“Azog? Oh, I have him.”

“I mean, he’s energetic and strong and cares a lot about education, but he’s a bit bizarre in terms of Orkish culture. He wants to explore the world and meet new people and...he has a kid.”

“Is having a kid a bad thing? Sorry, I don’t know much about Orkish culture.” Faramir gazed at the floor.

“Orcs don’t really have families. We’re kind of born the size of adults and just integrated into our communes immediately. I mean, we still mature over time like other species do, but we don’t have parents. The fact my dad decided to raise me on his own is strange and we keep it a secret in our commune to avoid being shamed by other Orcs.”

“Born the size of adults,” Faramir murmured.

“Don’t think about it too much.” Bolg rubbed his head. “Sorry to bother you with this. I should have kept it to myself.”

The Human glanced up at Bolg. “No, no. It’s alright. How can I support you?”

Bolg blinked at Faramir. “Do you think I should tell my friends?”

Faramir sighed. “It’s up to you to do what you think is best, but if they’re good friends, then I’m sure they’ll support you.”

~~~

Bolg prayed Faramir was right as he sat down at the dining table the next morning. He had arrived at the cafeteria on the earlier side, hoping that the quieter atmosphere would calm his nerves before he spoke to his friends.

“Bolg, you’re early!” A voice cried out behind him in heavily accented Orkish.

Bolg twisted around to see Gothmog striding toward him. They rarely spoke Orkish to one another since the Gundabad and Mordorian dialects were, for the most, mutually unintelligible.

“Yeah,” Bolg replied in Common Speech. He fiddled with the fork he was using to eat his breakfast patties.

Gothmog took a seat beside him. “The cooks are trying out this new soup. Apparently they got the recipe from the new math teacher. He even donated his ingredients to them. It’s a Winter soup, but technically can be made year-round.”

Sure enough, the distinct aroma of his father’s signature dish swarmed Bolg’s senses.

“Is that a tear? Orcs don’t cry, silly.”

Bolg turned away from his friend. More tears wracked though his body and hiccups escaped through his mouth. His stomach burned inside of him and he craved to crawl into a nice, dark hole.

Gothmog began slapping his back. “Uh, Bolg? You okay? Are you allergic to the soup? Do you want to wrestle?”

A chorus of footsteps sounded behind Bolg.  “What’s going on?” Came Bofur’s excited voice. Even more tears gushed from Bolg’s eyelids.

“Dunno,” He heard Yaznag say.

“I’ve never seen an Orc act like that,” blurted Shagrat. “Maybe he needs a good chokehold.”

“I don’t think that will help him,” Aragorn muttered.

Bolg shoved his platter of food away and pushed his face against the table's hard surface. Gothmog continued to clobber his back.

“Hey, Bolg, what’s going on? Are you alright?” Rosie’s breath tickled his arm. He hadn’t even heard her step by.

“Should we get a teacher?” Bumbur asked.

“Mister Azog, over here!” Bofur shouted. Bolg could hear what was most likely Bifur, Bofur’s mute cousin, jumping up and down to wave over the educator.

Heavy footsteps clomped in Bolg’s direction. “Hey, son, what’s going on?” Azog asked in Orkish.

“Wait, Mister Azog is your father?” Yazneg asked in Common Speech.

“Orcs don’t have fathers, silly,” Gothmog said in between wacks.

Strength surged through Bolg’s body and he sat up. Taking a deep breath, he wiped away his tears. With a single hand, he knocked Gothmog over onto the ground. Rosie, Bofur, and Bumbur all gasped. “It’s true,” Bolg said. He peered at his father who stood by the other side of the table. “The new math teacher is my father.”

[unnamedelement]

Image description: The first image is a drawing of Gimli from the side. He sits at a table in the archives/library in Minas Tirith and is holding a piece of parchment in his [poorly drawn] hand. There is a sheaf of notes to his left, and a venn diagram similar to the one in Image Two is sketched on it. The second image is a picture of notes from a statistics lecture on multiple regression. There is a three-way venn diagram in the upper right hand corner and others notes scrawled about.

 I don’t usually draw because it is absolutely not at ALL one of my skills and talents--have you SEEN the beautiful things people create in this fandom?!--but I started doodling after a headcanon came to me during the last hour of my Stats class today, and it carried me away. So here is a picture of Gimli laboring in the library in Minas Tirith, poring through old lore about the elves and their ailments, in an attempt to lift the spirit of his friend in the only way he knows how. Also, please indulge me by reading a new headcanon I have about dwarves. Eventually I’ll be writing up this little concept into a one-shot spinoff of my WIP series At Sea in the Middle of Ithilien. 

Non-Spoiler Summary of the Series this Headcanon Orbits

You can find the At Sea series here (Part I) and here (Part II, the WIP). Most of my other writing about the sea-longing can be found at this link.   Please dear God, do not hesitate to talk to me on Tumblr, Ao3, or FF about the sea-longing. There is little in this Middle-earth I love more than exploring this concept.

Long and short of it, these stories take place around Fourth Age 30. Legolas and his elves--including his partner--are living in Ithilien while Gimli is in Aglarond. Legolas has been increasingly struggling with the Sea-longing, and the methods he and his friends have employed for years to curb it are running thin. Eventually, a tragedy of sort strikes, and it forces them all to take a new approach. Because Gimli has always been Legolas’ anchor in the midst of the Sea-longing, they begin the long labor of piecing Legolas back together.

And that’s where the headcanon comes in! Click below to read about dwarves and statistics and how Gimli tries to heal his favorite elf’s heart.

Basically, I decided that dwarves have an excellent understanding of mathematics and statistical analysis--beyond the understanding of even the Noldor in the Third Age--due to the limitations of their mortal lives. They are makers, creators, craftsmen, and builders, and they do not have forever to wait around to watch what happens, to piece together the patterns of things, and yet there is a drive and a fire to create. And, thus, for dwarves, math and formulas and statistics become a key and increasingly complex part of not just the designing of things but also the predicting of them. The dwarves collect data on a number of things, so they can answer questions like-- In what circumstances is a flood most likely to collapse a tunnel? What factors increase the likelihood of death during famine? Which jewels are most lucrative when brought in which seasons to which markets of Men? Dwarves are a sturdy people, but this self-created knowledge is part of what makes them so. So, after the War, Gimli brings these skills of his people to Minas Tirith and then, afterward, to the Glittering Caves--the planning and safety of these places, their structures and their beauty is rivaled only by the reliability of his work.  Thirty years pass and we are just past the time of At Sea. Gimli and Legolas travel together while he puts himself back together, and they follow Aragorn’s careful instructions on all those things that he thinks and he hopes--as a healer--are most likely to keep Legolas’ feet on the ground. But elves are not meant to resist the Sea, and they do not have much to go on but supposition and prayer.  But then Gimli begins to think. For, oftentimes, aren’t decisions made without all the data? Certainly there are not elves a-plenty to ask about the Sea here in the Fourth Age, he ponders, and there are none living save Legolas who are actively denying it, but surely there is information hidden about somewhere? There are archives in Minas Tirith, he muses, and libraries kept still by the Sons of Elrond in Imladris, after all... And if he can collect as much data as he possibly can from accounts of the past, might they not have a better idea of what things to expect, what things to avoid, and what things they might try to sooth his friend’s soul? For even if no elf in the history of the world resisted so long as his, there are probably hints hidden in all these millenia of writing that may open the door to improvement... And, so, when they return from their wandering, Gimli sets to it, for he is stalwart and stubborn and a solver of problems. He pores over texts and writes to Rivendell to ask they do the same; he recruits Faramir and Elboron to the project; he consults Arwen and writes to Mirkwood for whatever oral lore they may have stored away there in Wood-elven minds, and he works and works and works. He catalogues every possible example of Sea-longing and its effects and outcomes and the traits of the elves that have suffered it. He analyzes specific cases closely and uses them to guide the coding until he has buckets of predictors and traits and variables that might map onto outcomes and behaviors and feelings that he can just barely grasp, dwarven as he is, but that he hopes--if intervened on--might alter the course of things for his friend. So, eventually, Gimli has set to work with his formulas and his statistics, and he labors and calculates and checks and rechecks until he thinks he has some answers--he takes what he has found to Aragorn and Arwen, and eventually to Legolas and to his people. Then--after much time and much patience; some tears and much frustration; moments of failure and triumph and vulnerability and forgiveness--the stability of a new normal emerges, and it becomes a little bit more enjoyable and much more manageable for Legolas to move through a world in the Fourth Age of Men that is no longer built to accommodate elves. It is not perfect but it is enough. And that is the way that Gimli became the first dwarf in Middle-earth to labor so for the cause of an elf as to be named elvellon twice over. And it is also the story of how a dwarf became the first person in the history of their world to approach the healing of hearts in so logical a way that--nestled within the complimentary knowledge of those things beyond numbers--a new era of treatment was born. And all of this because a Dwarf could not bear to be parted from his Elf.

THE END