#fëanàro

[art-of-firefly]

Fëanor

Red and gold like Míriel, I redraw him so many times at every step because i couldn't get him right. With two versions, prince and king.

I imagine the silmarilli perfectly oval and smooth (like the Arkenstone but much brighter) but i prefer to draw them like rocks with hard edges.

Tomorrow i’ll post Findis !

[swanmaids]

All Fëanàro’ and Nolofinwë’s second sons know is witness immediate family members die, outlive elder brothers, Nirnaeth Arnoediad, be bisexual and cry

[lovefairymina]

"Fëanàro?" I ask, groaning as I feel the warm morning sun wash over me. I pull a pillow over my face. "I don't want to get up yet, can we stay here and cuddle for a while?"

“This is the second time for the morning you refuse to let me leave the bed,” he grumbled into your shoulder before throwing an arm over your waist and pulling you closer to his warmth. “This is probably a sign to not get anything done today. You win.”

[tanoraqui]

Incomplete list of name origins/motivations of the House of Finwë, according to me (and sometimes canon). Any names not listed were given for normal “parent liked it and it fit the baby (fathername)/young child (mothername) well enough.”

Original Brady Bunch:

Finwë (epessë, "hair/crowned guy") - as discussed here

Miriel - [normal name origins]

Indis (mothername, "bride") - true maternal prophecy. “She’s going to fuck her way into trouble and, if we’re lucky, fuck her way out of it”

Fëanáro (m, "spirit of fire") - not prophecy so much as really really obvious right away Curufinwë [I] (fathername, "clever finwë") - Finwë, proudly watching his son build cities out of blocks: “He’s like me but even more clever!”

Findis (f, [finwë+indis]) - Finwë has the naming instincts of Bella Swan and we should mock him so much more for this

Arakáno [I] (m, "high chieftain") - warning label Fingolfin was a very bossy toddler; Indis thought it was adorable and was sure he’d grow into it (he did)

Lalwen/Irimë - [both normal name origins]

Ingoldo [I] (m, "the noldo") - spite. born 2 months after Nelyafinwë due to total lack of parental coordination. Indis looked Fëanor straight in the eyes while introducing his new, distinctly blond and Vanya-looking baby brother to him. Effectiveness as a warning label is entirely accidental.

Fëanorians:

Nelyafinwë (f, "third finwë") - spite Maitimo (m, "well-shaped") - Nerdanel: Attention, everyone! I have made the PRETTIEST BABY EVER!!;

Makalaurë (m, "golden voice") - Nerdanel, proudly: Yes, his beautiful voice is very loud [functional warning label]

Tyelkormo (m, "hasty riser") - warning label Nerdanel, loving but strained smile: My newest beloved son. Will not. Stay. Asleep. :)

Carnistir (m, "red-faced") - Nerdanel: Lookit how red his little face gets when he cries! Don’t you just want to squish it even more?!

Atarinkë (m, "little father") - Nerdanel, delighted: FËANÀRO, IT’S A BABY YOU!; Curufinwë [II] (f, "clever finwë") - Fëanor, awed whisper: holy shit you’re right, it’s a baby me

Ambarussa & Umbarto Ambarto (m, "red-topped" & "doomed" "up-exalted") - as told in The Shibboleth of Fëanor: Nerdanel, desperately ignoring the growing sense of true maternal prophecy: They’re both redheads! Fëanor: Beloved, you can’t give them both the same name. Nerdanel: Yes I can. Fëanor: No you can’t. Nerdanel: Yes I can. Fëanor: No you can’t. Nerdanel: Fine, his name is Doomed, are you happy! He’s doomed to a terrible fate! He’s going to suffer and die alone! Fëanor: Haha you mean fated to great things, upwardly mobile, right?! Nothing has ever gone wrong when I ignore you, and probably nothing ever never will! Ambarussa, jointly, as soon as they're old enough to speak: We like having the same name actually also, Telúfinwë (f, "last finwë") - Fëanor: "Okay, even I think we should probably stop at 7"

Fingolfinians:

Findekáno (f, "hair[crowned] commander") - a little bit of spite ("Finwë" + "Arakáno"), but mostly Fingolfin liked how it sounded and didn't realize until it was too late that he'd just swapped the syllables in Kanafinwë, and had to pretend real fast that he didn't care

Turukáno (f, "strong chieftain") - Fingolfin decided to lean into the káno root for his kids, and he likes how this name sounds and he doesn't care that it's the same root at Turkafinwë! Not everything is about Fëanor!

Írissë (f, "[something] femine") - Fingolfin, standing on top of a roof, holding baby Aredhel up like Simba: "WE HAD A GIRL!!!" ("Ir" from Anairë)

Arakáno (m, "high chieftain") - Anairë: haha holy shit, Nolo, he's a baby you

Finarfinians:

Findaráto (f, "high/noble finwë") - Finarfin shortly before his first son is born, moving around scraps on paper on which are written root words: "Okay so it has to include 'fin' and a part of one of my names which is not 'fin' (how stupid would two 'finwë's sound in one name!), but it for the sake of individualism it shouldn't be literally my name nor, preferably, Nolofinwë's... Ingoldo (m, "the noldo") - warning label: Eärwen, preventing her son from trying to eat his fourth very child-chokable random gem from the ground today: "Ara, he gets this from your side." (Effectiveness as a warning label for nude werewolf combat is entirely accidental.)

Angrod - [normal name origins]

Aegnor - [normal name origins]

Artanis (f, "noble lady") - Finarfin standing on the opposite roof, holding baby Galadriel up like Simba: "GIRL! GIRL! GIRL!" Nerwen (m, "man maiden") - Men already barely understand Elvish gender, especially as filtered through the Professor. We cannot begin to conceive of what Galadriel was doing with it, nor should be be so hubristic as to try

Grandchildren, birth order according to me:

Orodreth (m, "mountain climber") - warning label: if this child is not given something to climb, he will Find Something to Climb

Celebrimbor (f, "silver-holding/handed") - named after his mother, Maltrinbor ("gold-holding/handed") Curufinwë [III] (m, "clever finwë") - Maltrinbor, proudly watching her son gnaw on jewelry: He's going to be just as crafty as his father and grandfather!

Celebrindal (e, "silverfoot") - I don't care that canonically it's because she went barefoot; it's because she lost both feet to frostbite on the Helcaraxë (when the ice cracked and she fell in frozen water and Elenwë dove in to save her, a task at which Elenwë did succeed at cost of her own life), and shortly after reaching Middle Earth she got silver prosthetics (Curufin made the first model after Maedhros glared at him really hard)

Maeglin/Lómion - [both normal name origins]

Etc:

Finduilas (f, "hair + ?? + leaf"?) - [normal name origins]

Ardamirë (m, "jewel of the world") - true maternal prophecy (more vibes than literal vision, but she knew he'd hold a Silmaril) Eärendil (f, "friend of the sea") - Tuor: [loves Gondolin but wants to show his son the sea so bad]

Elros & Elrond ("star foam" & "star dome") - to both the Noldor and Sindar, a mothername is more intimate and meaningful than a fathername. But for the Noldor, the fathername comes just after birth and the mothername comes later, when the child's personality is more evident. In Sindarin custom, the mothername comes at birth because who knows the child better than the mother who has just been holding its fëa as close as possible for 9 months? and the fathername comes later. Elwing and Eärendil named their children together: Elwing chose to name them both "El-" for her family; and Eärendil named one "-ros", which like "-wing" means "foam/spray"; and the other "-rond", "star-dome" for the sky that is most beloved to admiring Elves and sea-navigators alike.

Celebrian (m, "silver queen") - Galadriel named her first, Sindar fashion, and named her partly after Celeborn because she is in fact a romantic sap. She suspected early that Celebrian would never be a queen in title, but she never wanted to shut down the option

Elladan & Elrohir ("elf man" & "elf rider[mannish root[" - half-blooded children both, Elrond and Celebrian also named their firstborn sons cooperatively - "El-" less for Elrond's family directly than because Celeborn would be so disappointed if they discontinued this tradition which dated back to his king, Elu Thingol; and "-adan" and "-rohir" for the Men of Númenor, lost and saved alike, whom they had both loved

Arwen (m, "noble maiden") - "Ar-" for Artanis and Arafinwë. Celebrian: "I have the weirdest instinct to go stand on the roof and shout about how she's a girl?" Elrond: "So do I! That'd be so weird, though. Anyway, you choose a name entire, for I must have my own for this one..." Undómiel (e f, "evening star") - mirror to Elros's daughter "Tindómiel", "dawn star" - both, of course, being the same star: Gil-Estel

[shiroandblack]

It is a slow and gradual change, but the Noldor have started to abandon the letter 'Þ' in their words for the letter 's'. It was hard to pinpoint the source of this change, as with most innovations in the spoken word, it could simply be anyone deciding to pronounce a word in a particular way and others finding it better and following.

However, it is a conundrum for Indis who is of the Vanyar, who have not replaced the þorn. They would understand, certainly, if she did not speak the way they did. After all, she is of the Vanyar as they are so keen to remind her. To Finwë's people she was ever 'Indis of the Vanyar' or if they were feeling generous, 'Indis the Fair'.

"You have four Noldorin children, Indis," Finwë would shake his head and laugh, "my people have welcomed you for long."

But not all, she wanted to say then. And she wanted to say it now, as she saw Fëanàro's too bright silver-grey eyes piercing her own from across court. Indis swallowed, trying to hold his stare which has always burned.

Not for the first time, she wished Míriel had not died.

She had named all her children in the Noldorin fashion, forsaking the softer dialect of her own people. She had abandoned the soft silks and georgette dresses favoured by her people, replacing them with the samite and brocade of the Noldor. Her hair was no longer left loose to fly in the wind, instead it was braided intricately in a manner which has always been unsuited for her fine strands. The flowers usually woven into them were discarded and replaced with glittering gems.

And still — she is Indis of the Vanyar. They have never failed to remind her that she was not of their kindred. And Indis would always try to prove that she was, that her children were just as Noldorin as any other.

Now, they look at her and wonder how she will speak. Will she retain the þorn as the court of Ingwë does, or will she speak as them? Once again, converting a Vanyarin part of herself into Noldorin.

Fëanàro will take this as an insult to his mother, that is inevitable. Míriel would never discard the þorn in her name, but Míriel is dead and the dead do not make their will known to the living. Indis is Queen of the Noldor now, she must always put that first before her duties towards a dead friend.

So she speaks and it is with the 'sa-sí's her people now favour.

[superloves4]

I still taste the past - Chapter 4

Relationships: Curufin/Finrod, Celegorm/Aredhel (background) Summary: Finrod wanted to see Curufin, get his closure after all they had gone through, end things once and for all. What he gets is a journey through the memory of where they've been and the choice of where they will go. TW: implied sex? A/N: Enjoy!

Masterlist - Also on AO3

Curufin, did in fact, have crushes before, like the girl he had met a few times whenever she came with her mother to the forge, sweet but meagre, nothing had felt the way it did since he and Findaràto promised themselves to each other on the roof.

Since then much had happened, the most surprising being that Angaràto had been the first to marry, he and Findaràto had a bet going on but, alas, Turukàno and Elenwë seemed decided to skirt around their feelings instead. Nelyo now had his own symposiums to speak at and Tyelko had officially been made a hunter of Oromë, Irìssë trailing behind him whenever she could, even the twins were about to finish their schooling. Life seemed to continue, unaware of their feelings.

Curufin was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Findaràto had always been splendid, from that first day they met in the library, his golden cousin with the beautiful smile. As the eldest, Maitimo was the one people sought after, and yet, despite being the son of the third son, there was no one that didn't hope that Findaràto's gaze would turn to their daughters or their sons. He had an ease of disposition, one would be hard pressed to find anyone who didn't like Arafinwë's eldest.

But in hidden corners and by secluded clearings, his eyes were all for him, Findaràto's mouth kissed only him. Curufin desire to lay down and agree with Findaràto's proposal grew every day, to just say yes and enjoy as all of Aman knew that the golden prince belonged to him alone.

He wished. Then he'd hear his father's voice, there were talks of treachery, Fëanàro had dismissed those rumours once but Curufin could see the doubt in his eyes, the way he'd greatly diminished the people allowed in their private forges, the fact he had commissioned new ones for Formenos.

What would his father say then, if he said he was in love with an Arafinwion, would he be seen as a traitor as well? Would his father disown him if he ever told him his wish?

He wasn't Findaràto, he didn't have that ability to blend in with a natural smile as if the entire world was his friend, people thought him antagonistic instead, complain that he was never satisfied, they'd avoid him. There was no greatness in Curufin, none of his father's effortless ingenuity, none of his mother's creativity, and none of Findaràto's natural kindness.

Findaràto even loved him and his miserable heart.

For how long could he truly hope to hold the golden prince's heart? If he let himself hope, what would he have left when the inevitable end came? A disowned son with a broken heart? He let himself ponder on that abyss, if he did marry Findaràto, if he begat him a child, with no family by his side, if he suffered as his grandmother did before him, would Findaràto wait for him? Or would Curufin wander the Halls alone as his love found someone as brilliant as he was.

Curufin could only shine in Fëanàro's shadow, how could he betray his father, his teacher, for someone who'd get bored with him in a few years time? No, his only path was to end things now, when the only promises between them were of two foolish youths.

He found Findaràto speaking with Kanò, about song,about instrument, and about the general day to day, it wasn't unusual but it had been happening more and lately, with Findaràto contacting the Fëanorian boys more frequently. 'I simply wish to get to know my cousins more, our schedules never allowed it before' he'd say, Curufin hated that.

"Want something?" Kanò asked in annoyance, thinking his little brother was there for him.

"Why would I want anything from you?" Curufin answered making a face at his brother 

"No, I'm here for Findaràto about the symposium."

Kanò laughed and patted the blond on the shoulder "I don't envy you, Findaràto" before turning to his brother "Try not bore him to death."

"You already do with those dreary operas of yours."

Makalaurë laughed.

Findaràto said his goodbye and left with Curufin, following the other to the patio where the hyacinths bloomed, a few bees flying around and the birds were singing.

"You don't need to be so close with my family, you know," Curufin said, glaring at one of the flowers ahead, his back towards Findaràto.

The blond smiled "I am merely talking to my family, I will be calling Makalaurë brother soon after all."

Curufin rolled his eyes "I seem to have missed when a marriage between Kanò and Artanis was announced, or is it Aikanàro? Didn't think that was what my brother was into these days."

Findaràto glared at him a little "You know what I meant."

Curufin turned around, looking at him "I haven't said yes yet."

"I believe in my chances."

He could hear the amusement in Findaràto's voice but his hands inching closer to his waist were far more dangerous, it didn't matter if it was something he wanted, the garden was not somewhere they could easily hide.

Curufin held his wrist before he'd go to far "You know we can't."

Findaràto sighed, distancing himself "No, Atarinkë, you think we can't, how much do you need from me to prove that we don't need to hide."

"With these growing tensions?" Curufin scoffed moving away "We'd be lucky to avoid direct conflict."

"You're decided on only seeing the negatives."

"And you're convinced that things will only ever go as you wish."

"At least I believe in something."

They held their breath but Curufin didn't an answer, that stung more than he was willing to admit, was it truly that bad to not see this future of stars that Findaràto talked about? To see that their families were drifting apart in ways entirely unprecedented?

Findaràto sighed "Will you come later, at least?"

Curufin looked at him for a moment before turning around and leaving.

He hadn't meant to come, it would have sent Findaràto the desired message, that he wanted to end things, it would have been a callous but effective way to show that he'd meant when he'd said things wouldn't work.

But when he saw the blanket Findaràto had placed on the ground, the blond arranging their food in front of himself, not having noticed his arrival yet, everything right at the perfect spot to watch the mingling.

His resolve crumbled.

Findaràto heard his steps and smiled "I did trust my chances." And Curufin smiled back.

And things seemed good then, like nothing could touch them, and things were right then, that there was nothing they couldn't face if they could hold onto each other.

Curufin would hold onto those memories and he'd wonder if Finrod ever thought back to then, did Finrod hate to look back on them? Did Finrod ever wonder who they'd be if things were different? Was Finrod the same as him? He'd hold on and then bury them, deep in the back of his mind, so they could never hurt him.

It was something he'd grown bitterly accustomed to do.

But back then, there was no bitterness, fear certainly, but that Curufin only knew that Findaràto's mouth was on his, before moving to his ears and descending to his jaw with little nips, to burying his face in Curufin's neck, torturing his delicate skin.

Findaràto's hands on his body, seizing a moan out of him, it was getting increasingly difficult to think and Curufin could feel himself giving in and Findaràto opening his clothes.

"Wai," he struggled to speak "Wait, Ingo-"

Findaràto pulled away, panting and messed up hair from when Curufin had grabbed it, Curufin almost regretted saying anything.

"Something wrong? Want me to stop?"

He looked so worried, Curufin bit his lip "No, it's not, well, that!"

Findaràto beamed with his admission and Curufin wanted to slap his self-satisfied little smirk off his perfect face. Face getting distressingly close again, eliminating all of Curufin's plans from his mind.

"Oh? If you don't want to stop, I guess this is about marriage?" Curufin blushed and Findaràto gloated, giving him a little peck on the cheek "You don't need to worry, I'll be up early in uncle Fëanàro's forge to ask for your hand and if he says no I'll just talk to Grandfather instead, and if he also says no... I'm sure we can find somewhere just for us!"

"NO!"

Findaràto pulled away again in surprise.

Curufin composed himself "I mean, it's just that, actually, it's the opposite, we don't need to get married right away, or ever, no one needs to know. We don't need anyone to know."

"Oh."

Curufin could see his conflict, the way his eyes looked around trying to find anything  to help him make a decision, but there was only the two of them there, and the temptation underneath him was too great.

Findaràto nodded hesitantly at first but regaining his enthusiasm as Curufin surrendered to him, clothes quickly being forgotten at their side.

Curufin sighed "I always said you were a fool."

[saecookie]

If you don't mind Curufin/Glorfindel and You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath Sacred prayer and we'd swear to remember it all too well. Or if that's too long just the first part :)

How glad i was to see you in my asks dear! I had an absolute blast on writing this one, I hope you'll like it!

prompt me please!

Laurefindelë’s always known him all too well.

(Why he is thinking of him, after all these years, after all this distance, is lost to him.)

(Lost, like he did Laure.)

He would know him in his child, Curufinwë thinks. He would know him in these cheeks, in this severe brow, in those eyes already shining and curious.

Curufinwë Atarincë Fëanárion’s son looks awfully like him, already. He raises his eyes to meet his partner’s; he wished for his son to bear more of her on his face. Her dimples, the darkness of her skin, the gold on her temples. But once again, the line of his father stays with his blood.

If Curufinwë was any less than he is, he’d hope that the fëanàro would not follow. But Curufinwë has never been an optimistic man.

He looks down at his son again, awaiting for a name, a name from a father he’s not sure he should be, a man whose own father gifted him with a name more akin to a path to follow, a prophecy taking him in at night. An oath, like his father liked to profess.

Curufinwë Atarincë Fëanárion is not a kind nér, but he knows the plague of a fathername (he will vow pride and reverence upon his own; he shan’t cast the same fate to his own blood).

From his grandfather to his father to himself, a name followed them. Curufinwë is not gifted with the same prescience his kind could, he has for himself only sheer willpower to fulfill himself. 

His child (his only child).

His blood. His line.

Curufinwë hasn’t been kind to love, to those who called him and called to him. Laurefindelë’s always known him too well, he kept him like an oath; and Atarincë who never wanted to take an oath again kept him like a secret.

And lost it; his only secret.

He swore, then, to remember him all too well. His own secret, his own pledge.

Nelyafinwë is the first to come upon his chambers and gaze at the first child of their house since Ambarussa were brought upon them.

“How shall I send word, háno, of the young one?” was the question he asked, regal still despite his gladsome air.

“I named him Tyelpërinquar.” He did not add a word nor an explanation.

“He will be your pride, like you were atar’s.”

Yet Curufinwë has long since banished his father from his thoughts, for this pledge he’s taken will be the last. Not toward his blood, but toward his light.

His very own oath.

[feanaro07]

I stuck a nerve in my back, I could not draw as I wanted but here are the first based on redraw old drawings. SO first day of inktober : my first drawing of my principal OC who is two OC now ( Fëanàro and Leïla ) I try to draw with no ref.

[admirable-mairon]

if the thing that originally caused them to realise / start the chain reaction to realising they weren’t cishet had not happened, how much longer would it had take to end up here?

All of them realized what they were quite early on in life? They just didn’t realize that there was a stigma or other things that could be considered “more normal” until they got out into elven society more?

The house of Fëanàro said LGBT+ rights, and they did so L O U D L Y

[sonsofdoom]

All muses: 12) what are your muse’s feelings towards stereotypes relating to their identity? do they affect their self-image, or how they perceive others?

THIS GOT LONG SO I WILL PUT THE REPLIES UNDER A CUT!!

I would like to note that NONE of them are ashamed of who they are or what they are - Quite the opposite. I am of the STRONG belief that Fëanor and Nerdanel both almost violently encouraged them and supported them in being themselves. Their happiness was what mattered, and so the possible stigma that can come with being raised in a certain way doesn’t apply to them.

I would also like to mention why some are labelled as Bi and some are labelled as Pan. This does NOT have to do with the misconception of “hurr durr bi people aren’t attracted to transpeople” (fuck off), but rather with how THEY would reply if asked. There might not be an objective difference, so to speak, but the subjective difference of which label someone prefers is important, and so this just happened? Also - The Homosexual label doesn’t exclude transpeople either.

Slight CW for cultural homophobia and transphobia.

Maedhros (CisHomo): 

As the oldest son of the crown prince there was a lot of pressure on him to marry an elleth and start a family. Not from his own parents, but by society, and he’s a politician. He had never questioned his lack of attraction to ellyth before he got immersed with the politics of the capital, and he swiftly learned that loving males as a male was something that was done behind closed doors. He hates the stereotypes forced on him, but as the politician and diplomat that he is, he tries to mask it. He does, however, actively work to make it more accepted for those less fortunate than he. 

Maglor (CisBi Polyamorous):

Maglor has never truly had any issues with his identity, stereotypes, nor the pressure of society. As a bard and ministrel, he’s of course known to be a flirt and tease and a lover of women. He bedded and flirted enough with females that nobody would ever suspect the things he did with people of other genders in the dark. 

Celegorm (FtM Pan Polyamorous):

Celegorm had the greatest stigma from society to deal with. Suddenly prince Fëanàro didn’t have a daughter to marry away, but rather a third son, which was seen as quite the scandal. Especially seeing how at home he was in the wilds. The expectation of dresses, fine silks and more commonly feminine traits were suddenly to be pushed to the side, and the many nobles that had wanted to court Fëanor’s “daughter” suddenly had no one to court. This had never happened openly before, but it DID raise some hope and give strength to those in hiding in Tirion.

He never liked cities or crowds or politics the way his older brothers did - But amongst Oromë and his maiar - in the wild - No one would question the scars under his pectorals or how he sometimes bled more than other men his age. 

He does have some slight issues with being dominated during sex because of it. He doesn’t mind any form of penetration, but rather the subjucation and “femininity” that some expect from him when they see what he has between his legs.

Caranthir (CisPan Polyamorous):

As the “ugly” brother, he rarely had to deal with such things. He seldom headed out to actually try to court anyone, even though he had several little crushes in his life. He was the one to take up the more “feminine” hobby of embroidery and sewing, as well as sorting things and cleaning (yes he had the cleanest, tidiest room in their house - don’t @ me). 

When faced with stereotypes, or rather if someone teased him or his brothers about their romantic interests or genders - He would be the first to throw punches. And kicks. He can’t change what you think, but he can remodel your face if you speak ill of his wild brother, or if you look down on Nelyo for never turning an eye to maidens, and so that is what he does.

Curufin (CisBi):

Is actually rarely affected by any form of stigma concerning his sexuality, and is “lucky” enough to be able to carry on the family line for his father. He is a very “manly” male, he has a son, he works as a black/jewel smith.... Yeah there are no common things that society could criticize him on. 

Now his off-standish personality and how simillar he is to his father is another point entierly, but it has nothing to do with his sexuality, romanticality or gender.

Celebrimbor (CisHomo):

Constantly has to fight against the stigma of his family and father rather than his sexuality. People seem to just assume that his lack of romantic interest comes from him being shy and timid, and he prefers it that way. 

[admirable-mairon-moved-blog]

Curufinwë Fëanàro Finwion

Aka the #1 elf and my absolute favourite character ever <3

@first-son-of-finwe

[superloves4]

I still taste the past - Chapter 2

Relationships: Curufin/Finrod, Celegorm/Aredhel (background) Summary: Finrod wanted to see Curufin, get his closure after all they had gone through, end things once and for all. What he gets is a journey through the memory of where they've been and the choice of where they will go. TW: none for this chapter A/N: This is connected to "We can always begin again" but it should be able to be read on it's own besides very occasional chapter.

Also on AO3

Finrod had stared at him for a few minutes that day.

Curufinwë Atarinkë was small, was what he'd thought, staring as the younger child trying to reach a book on a shelf too tall for his smallness, he smiled watching the other. He hadn't seen little Atarinkë since his naming, he had thought for sure that he had grown more than that since then, it was strange to think him the brother of Maitimo. Cuter by far.

"Need help?" he asked, startling the child that then fell to the ground. Finrod thought he'd have to calm the little boy, he'd gotten awfully good at it since Aikanàro decided he wanted to run everywhere. But not little Atarinkë, who pulled himself back up and glared at him from his grand tallness of one apple.

"If you had not been sneaking, I would 'ave gotten it," and huffed at him, looking very proper with his arms crossed and standing on his tiptoes.

"Forgive me," he had answered, it seemed his apology further annoyed the other "I can make it up to you by giving this book, no?" And he grabbed the book easily, reading the cover "Wire jewellery?"

Atarinkë turned red, grabbing the book from his hands and hiding it by his chest  "It's very important for my appenticeship!"

Finrod laughed "Uncle Fëanàro won't let you in the forge yet?"

The lack of answer was all Finrod needed to know, he pinched the other child's cheek, earning him another startled yelp.

"I'm going to tell Nelyo and Kàno you hurt me!" he exclaimed.

"Oh my," he smiled wider "And what name will you give them, A-tar-in-kë?"

The boy stared at him, realizing he didn't know which cousin he was talking to. 

He let out an angry cry and left the library with the promise of sending his older brothers to beat him up and then send his father to throw him away from the palace. Finrod laughed, rather happy he had decided to go to the library that day.

Little Findaràto liked pretty things and Atarinkë might just be the prettiest.

The next time they would see each other was a party, with the Arafinwions living in Alqualondë and the Fëanorions going wherever the wind took them, the Fëanorions and the Arafinwions didn't interact much outside of parties.

Turukàno had been sick that day and with Aikanàro and Angaràto disappearing Eru knows where, Finrod had been left with nothing to do but to stare at Atarinkë.

He still found him cute, at that moment he was dangling his legs while held by his father, basking in the attention he was given as the youngest child, Finrod smiled, with his own mother about to deliver and with the rumours about Nerdanel possibly being pregnant, he didn't think Atarinkë would have much longer to enjoy that spot. Would he be relegated to trying to find his own entertainment as Finrod was? He couldn't help a sort of kinship with that, having been robbed of that spot with the birth of his two brothers, and eventually, Atarinkë, himself. At least he had the title of his father's eldest son, he had no idea what the younger boy would do instead, as he was number five. Maybe he'd look for a friend?

It would turn out that little Atarinkë would carve out his own niche among his brothers, but he would not search for a friend as little Findaràto had hoped, instead, they would continue to meet in mostly meaningless family ways, greet each other quickly before leaving to find their own people, Finrod with Turukàno and Atarinkë with his brothers. In fact it might have been possible that could have turned into all they ever had, with the years passing and them never being more to each other.

In the years that would follow, Finrod would wonder if that would not have been the kinder of the two options and he'd wonder what he'd do if given the chance to go back to those days.

But that was not his choice to change and a young but not full grown, naive perhaps, Findaràto once more met his cousin Atarinkë in the library.

It had been a warm day, being outside was unbearable, the others had decided to leave and go swim in the river, have some fun since they were finally all in one place. They had practically raided the palace kitchens, taking all types of sweets and beverages they could carry on their own, despite Tyelkormo's protest that he could hunt their dinner Maitimo had quickly put a stop to that line of thought, their trip would not be turned in another hunt he had insisted, but when they asked Finrod he said no.

For as much as he liked his family, he also enjoyed some moments of peace, and in that warm day, so close to his maturity and the responsibility that would come with it, he hoped for a moment alone.

He would not find it as Atarinkë had also chosen to forsake the trip to the river, looking very solemn as he hunched over his chosen book, no longer too small to grab one from the higher shelves. Finrod did feel some measure of pride at still being the taller of the two.

"Good day" he greeted but received only a quick acknowledgement in return.

He sat down to read his own philosophy book, it was a new one from the academics of Tirion and he'd waited a long time to be able to hold it. This time some of the most brilliant minds of the city pondered the validity of the senses, to some it was not possible to trust the senses as a valid way of determining reality, to others it was only through the exploration of the senses that one could find the objective reality. Finrod had not made up his mind yet on where he stood on the debate but pouring over the pages was a pleasure he would not deny himself.

Until he heard Atarinkë scoff.

"Something wrong?" he asked, frustrated with having to stop his reading.

Atarinkë stared at him for a moment, eyes the color of silver from his uncle's forges, Finrod could almost feel its scorching warmth, before scoffing again.

"Quildolos is a fool and a cheat," Atarinkë answered with a shrug, talking about the author of Finrod's book "His proposed theory is full of holes and he's terrible at delivering the slim information he does have, he's worthless."

It wasn't that Turukàno was stupid, far from it truly, but philosophy never interested him as much as it did Findaràto, so to find that Atarinkë not only knew about the topic but was apparently well versed enough to express disdain of one of his favorite author, well, Finrod jumped on it.

"You can't possibly believe Maquetindo to be the better speaker or writer," he tried to be dignified as he spoke, holding back a smile as he waited for Atarinkë's reaction. Maquetindo was Quildolos most outspoken opposer, they had been engaged in an academic battle for years now, Finrod actually liked them both but was rather curious at what he'd get from the other boy.

Atarinkë did not disappoint and with a snort he answered "No, as a speaker he is rather lacking I agree, but as a writer his words flow better and he is far more concise, no need to embellish his much better theories."

Finrod couldn't hold back anymore and just smiled wildly "How so? You must admit there is some truth that we can't always trust our senses, how much of it is objective and how much is our own desires over reality."

However, what he hadn't anticipated was Atarinkë grabbing his wrist with the palm of the hand up and gently moving a finger up and down, sending shivers down Finrod's spine.

"You are asking me to doubt everything I perceive Findaràto," Atarinkë said, not stopping his movements "To doubt that the fire of the forges will burn me, that the food I eat fills me, and that a touch means I'm here, I exist. What is reality if I can't trust my own self?"

Findaràto had gulped, feeling rather warm, there was something in the back of his mind that whispered he was about to burn, but he had ignored that feeling. With a question he sealed his fate.

"Would you like to discuss it over chess?"

Maquetindo - Quenya - Asker (maquet) Male (indo) Quildolos - Quiet dreams

[superloves4]

I still taste the past - Chapter 12

Relationships: Curufin/Finrod, Celegorm/Aredhel (background) Summary: Finrod wanted to see Curufin, get his closure after all they had gone through, end things once and for all. What he gets is a journey through the memory of where they've been and the choice of where they will go. TW: mention of abortion. A/N: I want no discussion about this aspect, just to be clear

Masterlist - Also on AO3

"Atarinkë?"

Nerdanel had left the party when it was clear she couldn't find her third youngest son, leaving Fëanàro to round out the others so they could search any other place Atarinkë could have gone after that public spat with Findaràto.

Her guess proved to be the correct one as she found Atarinkë, still wearing his festival clothes, on the floor, sobbing under one of the tables of the forge in the crown prince's residence.

She tried to take his hand but he just covered his head instead, hiding from Nerdanel.

"What happened my love?" she asked delicately and gave him a small laugh "It can't have been Findaràto's clothes, he has more than enough to never wear the same twice, besides it's not as if he'd ever hold you in grudge."

If anything, that made it worse, Nerdanel listened as another terrible sob left her son's throat.

"Would drawing help?" she offered, it was something they would when the boys were children but couldn't speak for whatever reason. Unfortunately it wouldn't help this time as Atarinkë managed to remove one of his hands from head just enough to show how much he was shaking.

Nerdanel sighed before she remembered a game her father would play when she couldn't speak "How about this, I say a letter, you move your head for yes, and your foot for no, can you do this, Atarinkë?"

He moved his head.

The boys looked awkwardly around at each other, trying to see if one of the others had any idea of how to help the situation.

"Nàro, please stop, you're scaring everyone," Nerdanel sighed, cradling a mostly vacant Atarinkë at her side while Fëanàro paced back and forth the living room.

"And then do what?" he asked, not stopping his pacing "I need something to do until I have the one responsible in my hands."

"Please don't!" Atarinkë begged.

Nerdanel thought back to a few hours before, when the others had arrived and she explained the words she'd been able to get from Atarinkë: NO BLEEDING. She almost thought Fëanàro would have burst into flames right there and there as he raged at the unknown father of their first grandchild. He was ready to hunt the man down and Nerdanel almost let him, her own rage simmering underneath, but Atarinkë was looking miserable and he needed family, alas, Fëanàro was now restless and sending their son into panics.

Fëanàro stopped his pacing to crouch at his side "Just give me a name and we'll get rid of him"

But Atarinkë shook his head as if possessed, still refusing any attempt to coax the name of his child's father, seeing him so scared only helped to make Fëanàro even more rabid, an intense desire to see heads rolling.

Nerdanel rubbed her son's arm "If Atarinkë doesn't wish to tell, we'll make do, let us focus on what is really important," she said and saw as Fëanàro unhappily nodded "Atarinkë, have you decided what to do yet?"

Her son looked at her, voice failing him and her heart ached, if she'd know she would have been with him through the party. "Will you tell the father?" she asked even if she already knew the answer, promptly, Atarinkë shook his head.

"You are asking for something rather cruel of us," she told him, bumping his chin with a finger "If that is what you decide you have to be ready to answer the consequences."

Atarinkë grimaced, perhaps contemplating how he wanted to deal with the situation.

Tyelkormo awkwardly shuffled forward "Or... not?" he offered, hand to the back of his neck, pushing on the skin from embarrassment.

"Or not?" Nerdanel asked in confusion, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, in the hunt," he began, trying to vanish from his parents confused stares "there are some herbs that help get rid of... things like this?"

Nerdanel frowned "And how do you know about these herbs? Tyelkormo, I swear if you got someone in troub-"

Tyelkormo quickly threw his hands up in the air "Hey, it's not me, I never needed this, I never..." he trailed off, blushing hard, Ambarussa snickered and Carnistir patted his shoulder, Tyelko was miserable "Anyway, I just know they are a thing, okay!"

To Tyelko great relief the conversation moved back to Atarinkë. Fëanàro stared intently at his son, then asked "Is this what you want?"

Curufin searched for an answer inside of himself, it would be the easiest and best solution, the alternative was to keep Findaràto from discovering they had a child together, telling him was unthinkable. However, when he tried to imagine the future, this image of holding his and Findaràto's child, the feelings that he couldn't deny resurfaced.

"I," he gulped "I want this child, it's my child, no one else's."

His parents smiled, ready to stand by his decision, the new promising future even soothing Fëanàro previous rage at the unknown father. Tyelkormo however looked troubled, he had been the only one to know of his relationship with Findaràto, the only one who knew he had no option to escape his baby's father.

"Very well," his mother said, sharing a look with his father who nodded "we have to get ready to depart then."

"So soon?" Maitimo asked.

"The court is a pack of wolves," Fëanàro sneered "Curufinwë is unmarried, they would love the opportunity to tear him apart"

And so they decided, by the time Laurelin was shining again they were ready to leave for the next year.

"Are you sure?" Finwë asked, the only one they had bothered to inform of their departure "You've been here for so little and Atarinkë still has the pavilion project"

Curufin gave his grandfather a pained smile and hoped he was focused enough on his father as to not notice "I've already left the proper arrangements for my leave."

Finwë frowned "I know you've had problems with working with Findaràto but surely there has to be a better solution than this."

There was no solution to Curufin's problem but no one should know that so he did his best to misdirect his grandfather, lies flowing comfortably from his mouth. Something he was starting to find easier and easier to do.

"Will you be leaving for Formenos then?" Finwë asked, hoping they'd be somewhere he could contact them easily.

"No," Fëanàro replied, hugging his father, a calm smile on his face "We were hoping to study some further parts of the land, unlikely that we'll stay long in any place."

"Ah," his father sighed, but still bid them goodbye when they each mounted their horses.

Curufin took a moment to look up where he knew Findaràto room was, bidding him a silent goodbye, he knew the blond prince would do well without him, he'd finish the pavilion and happily dance with his lady love. Curufin would make do. This was his child, no one else's.

[superloves4]

I still taste the past - Chapter 11

Relationships: Curufin/Finrod, Celegorm/Aredhel (background) Summary: Finrod wanted to see Curufin, get his closure after all they had gone through, end things once and for all. What he gets is a journey through the memory of where they've been and the choice of where they will go. TW: none. A/N: Enjoy!

Masterlist - Also on AO3

Ëarwen paced back and forth, she wished she could be in Alqualondë at that moment, in Alqualondë there never was true silence, the sound of the waves would always be there to lull the mind and help one to find peace. Tirion, however, was not that, in the hours under the sun it was busy and one would always have one or the other sound to distract them, but at night the only sound she had were her own steps, her own heartbeat, her own disoriented thoughts.

Ingoldo's revelation had been more than she'd ever thought possible, to think that he'd been in love with Curufinwë all this time, but, no, when she thought back to that time she could now see it different. Looks shared when they thought no one was watching, not so accidental touches she had dismissed through the years, and that day, when she had wondered why her nephew had thrown his drink at Ingoldo, now she wondered how she'd not seen it sooner.

She longed to tell Arafinwë, confide all her feelings and being soothed in his arms but she didn't want to tell anything that Ingoldo wasn't yet ready to share, she knew it was correct but how lonely it made her feel, to know alone.

A grandson.

Telperinquar, her grandson.

Ëarwen sighed, feeling her chest tighten, Telperinquar, she had so few memories associated with her first grandson and now she knew that to have been deliberate, a bright child usually his father's arms, following every step his grandfather made regardless of how big the imprint Fëanàro left behind. Dead, used by Sauron, Telperinquar.

When Ingoldo told her, an anger she hadn't felt since Alqualondë made it's way through her, incandescent rage Ëarwen thought she had left behind in these days of peace, leading her to pace up and down.

Curufinwë Atarinkë.

Her heart would have no peace until she heard what he had to say in his defense. She stopped pacing and grabbed some paper so she could leave Arafinwë a message then, in the dead of night, Ëarwen left to meet her grandson's other parent.

It was night again by the time she arrived at Curufinwë's house, she could've rested and left it for the next day but she had waited two ages of this world, she wasn't willing to wait anymore.

She knocked.

Perhaps she had thought that when she saw Curufinwë again there would be something different about him, she shouldn't have of course, all of Ingoldo's changes had been in his mind, she knew that, but still she had thought there would be something she couldn't recognize in her nephew, alas, Curufinwë was still simply Curufinwë.

She saw him flinch when he realized who was standing  at his door, however he quickly recovered, perhaps unwilling to let his pride be wounded by shame.

"Aunt."

Ëarwen let out a small, mirthless, laugh.

"Is it aunt now," she made her way into the house, there wasn't much to see it was entirely blank, as unimpressive as Curufinwë "I see."

"One could have hardly called us family before" Curufin held his head high, an inkling of what would lead the queen of the Noldor to his door.

"And whose fault was that"

Curufin's breath hitched, his suspicions confirmed, it was a confrontation he'd been waiting for many years and he wouldn't back down now.

"I see Felagund croaked"

"And still you mock him?" Ëarwen glared, her dress swishing behind as she turned to stare at him.

Curufin shrugged "I'm sure my cousin has painted his pretty picture, there's nothing more to add than our mutual disdain now."

"You kept his son from him," Ëarwen gasped, hoping for a glimpse of feeling under the stone he seemed to be made of but Curufin merely stared at her, just another statue in his mother's garden.

"I'm sure he'll recover once the vanya gives him more blond brats than he can count," Curufin moved to the door and held it for her "Now, if all you came here for is to insult me, you should go or I will remove you."

Ëarwen eyes widened "The vanya?" then she grinned and in absolute glee she said "You must mean Amarië, how must it burn you," she cackled "the son of the great Fëanàro replaced by a simple vanyarin girl."

A crack, that was all she needed.

"After everything you've done, you couldn't break him and that bothers you doesn't it? Ingoldo will go on, without you," she told him, watching as he gulped and trembled "And when he'll smile, happy with his family, you will still be here, tasting the same venom you hoped to poison him, alone for the rest of your days"

"Leave."

She wasn't scared by that cracking voice.

"Because do you know what, Curufinwë? You have burned everything you've touched, destroyed every chance you had, oh, I know that," she got closer to him, feeling as he tried to hold back the tears "Telperinquar renounced you, Ingoldo has found better and you'll be forever stuck in this house, with only your resentment and jealousy as dear companions in your miserable life, nothing but a cruel memory in the people that left you behind."

"You are vile, Curufinwë, and you will rot inside and out."

"There is no insult left to throw at my feet, leave." Curufin steeled his resolve, refusing to cry in front of Ëarwen, and before she might've believed her speech had no effect but she'd glimpsed what laid behind the statue. He had gotten her message.

When the door slammed behind her, Ëarwen smiled.

[superloves4]

I still taste the past - Chapter 10

Relationships: Curufin/Finrod, Celegorm/Aredhel (background) Summary: Finrod wanted to see Curufin, get his closure after all they had gone through, end things once and for all. What he gets is a journey through the memory of where they've been and the choice of where they will go. TW: none. A/N: Enjoy!

Masterlist - Also on AO3

The news came on a late lazy warm day, Laurelin's light turning everything to gold, there was much to be celebrated in Tirion, what with Angaràto's first child upcoming birth and Finrod's betrothal, but no one flinched when Finwë considered the return of Fëanàro and his family to be of equal value.

What was o value, instead, were the rumours that had delighted the Nolofinweans and Arafinweans, some people had decided that the long travel of the Fëanorians had been due to another pregnancy and Arakàno had joked that perhaps this time Fëanàro and Nerdanel might just return with three children on their breast, there had been laughter in abundance but Findekàno refused to divulge any knowledge that might've been shared with him by Maitimo, so jokes had been all they had until their return.

Finrod had spent much of the previous day preparing himself to see Atarinkë again, he had nothing to be ashamed of, Atarinkë had been the one to walk away and he was not owed his time, Amarië would stand by his side today and he'd be able to face his former lover with grace. They had been separated for more than a year, Finrod closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he couldn't miss Atarinkë after a year.

He took his place with the rest of his family, as they lined up to wait for Fëanàro, and Amarië smiled at him, unaware of any conflict on his part. He smiled back.

The doors opened as the steward announced their arrival and every one breathed in relief when Fëanàro and Nerdanel appeared with no children in their arms, although Finrod did notice they shared a look as they made their way to the king.

The rest of the boys continued to enter, a certain smugness in their expression that was making everyone tense up, but the boys entered, nothing seemed amiss up until the Ambarussa entered before Atarinkë did. Finrod craned his head to try and see if he could find Atarinkë, but when he did finally enter, Finrod's stomach sank.

Atarinkë entered the room, head raised high amidst the uproar from the rest of the family, for there had indeed been a pregnancy as the not-so-rumour had said, only the child had been Atarinkë's.

"Father," Fëanàro announced "I present you, your great-grandchild, Telperinquar."

Finwë gasped in delight and gently asked to hold the child "Why did you say nothing? We could've been commemorating! My Curufinwë, I had not even known you married, where is your spouse?"

Atarinkë smiled and Finrod took a step forward, expecting to have his name called at any moment, and his movement was indeed acknowledged but the scant look of Atarinkë was one of indifference.

"No spouse grandfather," he explained, through more murmurs "Unconventional, I am aware, but it was rather a surprise and we were already so far we risked a birth on the road, we left the travelling for after the birth last month."

Finrod returned in line, under the confused looks of Amarië and Turukàno, he wanted to explain but he was feeling far too dizzy, how to explain how he looked at the squiggling, adorable child in his grandfather's arms and knowing he was born only a month before, left Finrod to face the fact.

I am not his father.

Were the words he repeated in pain to himself, when he saw the baby he'd been so certain and hopeful, the weight of Amarië hand on his arm brought forth shame, he had wanted for Atarinkë to tell him they had a child together and then what? He could hardly tell Amarië that he was going back to his former lover right there on the spot. And yet, he had hoped.

Instead he now watched Atarinkë gush about his newborn to a frowning Finwë and wondered who had been enough in Atarinkë's eyes, who had been his replacement, had Atarinkë loved him? There was a bitterness in his mouth he didn't wish to contemplate in that moment.

Turukàno crouched enough so that Finrod could hear him "Do you think it was on purpose?"

Finrod shook his head in confusion "What?"

Turukàno shrugged "Uncle Curufinwë would love to lord over the fact that his line bore the first great-grandchild, the timing is too perfect, do you think his favorite son might've done so to gain his favour? Would explain the lack of marriage."

Finrod thought back to fevered lips, to Atarinkë's hands on his body, sweat clinging to them both, he quickly shook his head again, he had to clear those images from his mind.

"Are you well?" Turukàno asked.

"Yes, I'm just dizzy, nothing to worry," he smiled "Anyway, I don't think even Curufinwë would put himself through such a situation without a marriage to back himself up."

Turukàno could agree with that logic, still he frowned.

"The child looks just like Curufinwë," he said distractedly, then let out a small laugh "Do you think Uncle invented cloning and didn't say anything?"

"His eyes are blue."

"What?" Turukàno asked, turning to look at Finrod.

His own blue gaze fixed ahead where Finwë gave back to child to his father.

"The baby's eyes are blue."

Turukàno looked with more attention and Finrod was indeed correct, the one difference between father and child were the eyes, as Curufinwë had his father's gray stare and Telperinquar's were a dark blue from his mysterious parent.

A party was quickly prepared in Telperinquar honor, not as grand as it would have been had the news been announced sooner but it would do for what they had, all the best meat and fruits and drinks were brought forth, with the short time of preparation the only people at the table were family, there was a certain irony in that. Finwë made speeches of gratitude and gladness and Finrod was sure his name was called at some point, he had raised his glass then, going through the motions of pleasantry, but not a word more did he say.

He simply stood there, stewing in jealousy as he tried to picture which mouth Atarinkë had kissed, what did this other man had that Finrod didn't? To go so far as to beget this stranger a child, what had not been enough? Was it passion? Did Finrod not love him as much as he needed?

The child laughed and Atarinkë looked at his little son with so much love and devotion it made Finrod sick, why couldn't be him? Why did Atarinkë return with someone else's child when this was supposed to be theirs, their future, their family.

He missed as Tyelkormo kept staring daggers at him, too focused on the rage he felt, the betrayal he felt, the idea that he'd spent the past months in pure numbness while Atarinkë had replaced him as soon as possible.

He left as soon as politely possible and didn't see Curufinwë's self-satisfied smile.

[feanaro07]

Day 6 Nightmare Fëanàro who dreamed of being the murderer of his mother, his lover and his friend. Or maybe it is a revelation? Try more gore and contrast on this one