#finarfin trying to tell people what finrod would have told them

[ladyespera]

i think about this post like on a weekly basis

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

the last of my thoughts on the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor are taken back to tirion at the end of the war of wrath and proceed to be relentlessly abused by elves more interested in them being ‘normal’ than happy. it’s pretty much exactly as dark as you’d expect from that description, lots of medical/caretaker abuse towards the mentally ill, just a horrible situation in general. one last time, @sunflowersupremes wrote the original au this is an extrapolation from, and @outofangband listened to me blather on about this for ages and contributed lots of ideas of their own. part 1 is here, part 2 is here. this the last part, it isn’t quite as intense as part 2, but it’s a lot more hopeless. also there’s some off-screen torture

on the first post i made about this au, i got some comments to the effect of ‘oh this will only last until person x bails them out’

there were several suggestions - fingon, nerdanel, any of the ainur. it seems like there are a lot of people who’d want to get maedhros and maglor out of this nightmare

seems. these aren’t necessarily my usual interpretations of their characters, but for the purposes of this au i can easily imagine a finrod who already bore a grudge over the whole letting-their-younger-brothers-steal-his-kingdom incident and subsequently heard the version of the nirnaeth where the fëanorians left everyone else to die. he is the only other person in the palace who knew beleriand, and he loathes them so viciously he can barely stand to look at them. they’re lucky he doesn’t do worse

i can easily imagine a nerdanel who was already having trouble processing what her husband and sons did at alqualondë when eärendil and elwing told her every awful thing they’d done since in the span of half an hour. she smashed all their statues, burned all their gifts, and curled up sobbing in a ruined house, wondering why she was such a terrible mother her children grew into demons

and this isn’t long after that, that wound is still fresh. whatever vain hopes she held that the boys she loved were somewhere in there are shattered when she sees them, and they’re talking and laughing just like they did when they were young

like nothing had happened. like nothing had changed. like the monsters had always been waiting patiently for their chance to strike

(they just didn’t want her to see the things they’d become)

i can easily imagine a fingon who is blazingly furious with maedhros over the later kinslayings. he spends most of their only meeting railing at maedhros, and the apologia his caretakers offer up only makes him angrier

so does the fact that maedhros won’t defend himself, won’t even raise his voice. does none of this matter to him? did it ever?

(it does. but maedhros knows what will happen if he yells at his cousin, and he is just so exhausted)

fingon is eventually asked to leave. maedhros’ minders tell him that if he can’t keep his temper around their patient, they’re going to have to cut off contact until maedhros is in a better mental state. fingon snaps that that’s just fine by him, and storms off into the city, trying to hold back his tears

the ainur, now, the ainur would definitely drag them out of the palace and haul them up to the máhanaxar. finarfin’s managed to get as much out of eönwë

what would happen to them after that, eönwë refuses to say. finarfin suspects he doesn’t know, and none of the valar will until they’ve had a chance to actually, like, hold a trial

even so, it becomes pretty obvious to finarfin fairly early on that the noldor simply can’t give the brothers the help they need. it’s plain to see that they’re very unhappy and they’re recovering slowly if at all. whatever the valar decide to do with them, odds are good they’d end up in some permutation of elf afterlife therapy, with well-practiced carers and the family they’ve lost. for their sake, and the sake of the people around them, handing them over to the valar would clearly be the best option

except finarfin doesn’t. he keeps his nephews in his palace, where they break things and make messes and generally give their caretakers constant headaches. when asked why, he always talks about the soul-deep terror on maglor’s face when he asked him not to give them to the valar

he’s not lying about that. but he does have other motives

there’s lots of suppositions in finarfin’s reasoning. there’s every chance the valar would throw them into the deepest depths of mandos until the second music. there’s every chance maedhros would choose to disappear into the woods and never trouble court again

but if the valar do decide to send them to lórien with no limits on their movement, and if maedhros does still harbour nelyafinwë’s political ambitions...

the closest finarfin has gotten to admitting it, even to himself, is saying that the noldor have enough problems right now, they don’t need a succession crisis on top of everything else. sometimes he’ll joke about not wanting maedhros to set up another functionally autonomous military government out in the wilderness

but it’s hard to deny that a maedhros, free to act, with his head screwed on straight, could potentially be the single biggest threat to finarfin’s crown

not that he doesn’t want his nephews to get better! it’s heartrending to see the pain they’re in, he sincerely wants to see them happy

he’d just prefer them to be happy in a way that's... convenient

maedhros and maglor’s contact with the outside world is kept to a strict minimum and heavily monitored when it does happen. they’re only allowed to visit the public parts of the palace when their caretakers know exactly who’s going to be there and if they can be trusted to not make a fuss about the brothers’ presence

it’s all in the interest of keeping the peace, you understand. maedhros’ followers are difficult to handle at the best of times, if they somehow got it into their heads that the last of their lords were being held captive in the palace...

well, finarfin says over tea. maitimo can see the wisdom in not provoking a civil war, can he not?

(he will not bring death to the blessed realm again. not even if his last baby brother is rotting away to a shell, not even if he’s being smothered to death from the inside out. he will not, he must not)

(if he did, there would truly be nothing left but the monster)

and then, one day, maglor gets the chance to escape

his minders aren’t paying much attention to him, he’s been a lot quieter since they put the gag on him. he’s small and fast and good at sneaking around, by the time they notice he’s missing he’s already found a way out of the palace

he jumps out of a third-floor window, bites down the pain, and runs. he clears the grounds and disappears into the city

he makes for - he doesn’t know where. subconsciously, he navigates towards the craft guild districts, where his family’s staunchest supporters always were

except the city’s changed a lot since he was last loose in it, and before he knows it, he’s completely lost. he wanders the streets half in a daze, his raw nerves unused to the bustle and noise of it all. wherever he goes, people stop and start and turn away

finally someone calls him over. ‘hey, you want that collar off your neck?’

it’s a smith of some sort, he can tell that much. they’re smiling, welcomingly and without pity. he’s rushing over to them, nodding his head, before he can even think about

the trouble is, maglor doesn’t remember the faces of most of the people he saw in beleriand, but they all remember him

the trouble is, this smith was at sirion

back in the palace, who gets access to the brothers is very strictly controlled. which isn’t to say that nobody tries to hurt them; finrod tends to put the worst spin on things when he’s asked for advice, there’s all kinds of minor acts of sabotage, and they come across innocuous-seeming harmful objects more often than mere chance would seem to allow

but even their caretakers can tell that letting desperate revenge-seekers get near the brothers wouldn’t be particularly conducive to whatever recovery they’re hoping for. anyone who might randomly come across maedhros or maglor in a hallway is intensely vetted for ulterior motives, and while this process isn’t airtight it does filter out the most obviously malicious

and outside of that bubble, none of that applies. the smith does take maglor’s gag off, purely to hear him scream

soon enough, the palace guard tracks him down. they take him back to the palace, where he’s bandaged up and comforted and then, as a special treat, allowed to see his brother

(they’re kept apart more often than not these days. being around maglor makes maedhros agitated, being around maedhros makes maglor sullen. they’re just more cooperative when they’re alone)

maglor does the same thing he’s done every time he’s seen his brother for the past year, which is immediately bury his face in maedhros’ chest and shudder. it takes him a moment to remember he can speak now

‘we’re trapped’ he whispers. ‘we’re trapped’

because he was screaming for what felt like hours, and nobody came to help. as he was being carried back to the palace, he saw the scorn and the disgust in the passers-by’s eyes

there’s nobody who will shelter them outside the palace. there’s nowhere on this continent they can go

and that - that’s the end, in a way. maedhros remains stubborn and ill-tempered, never quite letting them forget he doesn’t want to be here and doesn’t like what they’re doing, but the fight goes out of him. he does what they tell him just as biddably as he did before they took his brother’s voice

maglor, surprisingly, takes a turn for the better. he starts acting cheerful again, doing everything that’s asked of him with a smile and a wink. he’s making excellent progress, his minders tell finarfin

(they don’t tell him what maglor looks like when the mask starts to crack)

finarfin is very pleased to hear that one of his nephews is finally starting to recover! it’s been a long, painful journey, but it looks like it’s all at long last working out

to celebrate, he decides to give maglor a gift he’s been holding onto for a while

he calls maglor into his office. the tension in his posture is a bit worrying, but his expression is all makalaurë, a casual, mildly disrespectful grin. he swans into the room, flounces into a chair, and asks what his uncle wants

finarfin praises him for all the progress he’s been making, and hands him a letter

it’s from elros

the first line is ‘how are you doing, you old bastard?’ it calls him a kinslayer six different ways in the first three paragraphs. it asks him how many people he’s stabbed since he got back. it closes off by wishing him some fun loud arguments with maedhros

finarfin was a little concerned maglor still not might be in the right emotional state for it, but the tightness bleeds out of his nephew’s frame as he reads. a couple of times he even bursts into snickering that sounds more genuine than any sound he makes in court

he finishes reading with a truly relaxed smile on his face. then he freezes, and looks up at finarfin

in a tiny, quiet voice, so unlike the way he talks nowadays, he asks, ‘may i write a reply?’

finarfin hates to take the wind out of his sails, but maglor deserves to know. ‘that letter is centuries old. i’ve been holding onto it until you were ready to read it.’ he shuts his eyes. ‘i’m afraid elros passed some time ago’

maglor’s head drops. the letter in his hands begins to shake. little whimpers escape his trembling body. finarfin walks over, places a hand on his shoulder. ‘i’m sorry, we -’

that’s not whimpering, finarfin realises. those are growls. his nephew’s head snaps up, face twisted with rage

maglor tries to tear finarfin’s face off -

and that’s all i have. these headcanons have been exhausting to write, i’ll clean them up and put them on ao3 in a bit, but not now, if for no other reason than it’s 3am. again. i hope these weren’t too incoherent. going to try to unbanjax my sleep schedule now

[kendrixtermina]

Thoughts regarding the Nolofinweans

One interesting thing to note, to me, has always been the slight contrast between Fingolfin and his kids. 

They’re like him in the sense that they’re described as brave, valiant badasses - Fingon & Argon being huge war heroes for example, but unlike him, they are also explicitly adventurous, which their father is not; he was explicitly in the “stay” faction but went along out of obligation (both to the people, but also because he gave his word, and because revenge) - meanwhile Fingon & Aredhel couldn’t wait to be gone, the former is noted to have marched at the very front during the departure. From how he’s described as very impetuous & heroic, we can assume that Argon was probably the same as his sister and oldest brother. 

The possible outlier here is Turgon, who is probably the most like his father out of the bunch. Pretty responsible & noble, tough not completely without some pride of their own. The way in which they go down is certainly very similar: “I have miscalculated & failed to protect those I was responsible for! Clearly all is lost and I must atone for my folly with my life, so let there be fireworks”

So, do the other three just happen to take after Anaire? They probably do in the sense of being very loyal friends like she was to Earwen (especially if you hc that Aredhel put her own adventure plans on hold to help her then-newly widowed brother with his kid) 

However, I wish to float another idea: 

Consider Fingolfin. What do we know about him? Though he’s the middle child, he seems to have been the most popular of the princes, at least in Tirion proper. That might well be because he was the one who was most often in Tirion, doing actual prince things, so the people of the city would have known him well - whereas Feanor was always traveling or working as an inventor; We’re told he had some influence with the scholars, but he probably wasn’t at the palace that often, and Finarfin noped out of everything & chilled out in Alqualonde - and why wouldn’t he, he was the youngest. It’s not specified what Findis did but it doesn’t seem to have been politics, it seems like the resonated more withthe Vanyar anyways, and Lalwen, like Finarfin, was one of the younger ones. 

It’s easy to imagine that Fingolfin was very dedicated & dutiful; Maybe there was an element of trying to win his father’s approval to it. There’s a very formal vibe to him, both from the title he ends up using, & some of the dialogue he gets, like, when he talks to Finwe in front of the assembly he adresses him as “my father and king” - certainly this is also meant to show that Fingolfin is considering the politics here, and of course they’re nobility. Maybe they just talk like that. But in the same scene, Feanor refers to Finwe simply as “my father”. Could it be then that this is a reflection of Finwe being somewhat closer with Feanor? Not impossible, but, in that snippet of dialogue where Finwe is discussing the events with Miriel in Mandos (and guessing very wrong about what’s probably going on in his absence) he refers to Fingolfin simply as “Arakano” (or whatever his mother-name was supposed to be at the time) 

So here’s my theory: 

In his younger days, Fingolfin used to be about as adventurous, impetuous and not-the-best-judge-of-character-y as Fingon, Aredhel and Argon, complete with some charley-brown esque conviction that maybe this time, Feanor would not pull the football away; It’s easy to see how he’d get cured of that last illusion with time, but there’s more to that.

He used to love nothing more than to go riding his horse around the landscape with Lalwen and do cool tricks; After Finwe would tell them stories of the great journey, he would go drape a courtain around himself and pretend to be a great chieftain. He’d do all sorts of daring tricks that won him the friendship of many other noble brats and some enduring Big Brother Worship from Lalwen. 

But then, as he grew older, it was inevitable that he’d hear people talking, that there’d be whispers behind their backs, or that he’d come across some documents where it’s referenced that his family was once the subject of legal dispute.

Much excellent writing has been made about what it must’ve been like for Feanor to have his very existence and the characters of his beloved parents be the subject of public debate, but the same would go for Indis’ kids, just in a different way - perhaps this is also part of the reason why Findis kept out of politics & the public eye. There were, after all, canonically people mumbling that they should never have been. At least Feanor would’ve been being a jerk to Indis on a regular basis. 

So at one point, after some humiliating experience or another, a still fairly young Fingolfin - maybe the equivalent of a 14/15 year old human or so - decided that he would have to be the most ideal, impeccable prince to prove everybody wrong, to prove that he was worth the dodgy exception, so to speak. If he were a clear benefit to Tirion’s society, he thought, with a bit of juvenile pride, maybe then people would stop talking bad about his parents, and his siblings would not be subjected to the same scrutiny. 

So from that point on he threw himself into his studies & his responsibilities (”Sorry Lalwen, duty calls. I’ll play with you tomorrow”) and did what he could to be a shining example, so no one would say that his parents were selfish for having him or whatever - and he was good at it, which ironially probably created something of a pridigial-son sort of situation. He was always there, suceeding & not giving anyone cause for worry (until things between him & Feanor started to get heated), so he wasn’t perceived to need attention; He probably felt a bit taken for granted now & then, like his efforts weren’t appreciated, or not good enough, though it was brobably just an occasional bit of subliminal resentment before Melkor came in. 

There’s one snipped that didn’t make it into the final cut, where Finarfin is described as the gentlest of the brothers, but also very learned and also a good speaker... which I’d sort of assumed anyways, because, look at Finrod. But imagine being in Fingolfin’s shoes with two super handsome, super smart brothers. He’s super exceptional himself, but when he was young & had only his family to compare to... 

Likewise, you might look at Finarfin’s super talented kids & conclude that he severely downplayed his own talents because he didn’t want to kick up more of a fuss & felt his father had enough “talented sons” to worry about.

We have to appreciate that the Melkor incident didn’t just result in a rift between Feanor & everyone else, but in strife & discord everywhere; Everyone’s marriages were wrecked, parents took different sides than their children (Finarfin: “We stay!” Angrod: “No we leave!” Orodreth:”No we stay!” ...But Orodreth did not turn back and had a thoroughly bad time in middle Earth more than anyone save Aredhel maybe.) - tough we’re told that at least his sons stayed civil enough to not outright criticse him in public. I think the partings between the children of Indis were probably messy too. Findis probably told the others to go to hell when they left, then Finarfin turned back, with some degree of bitterness over how all turned out - even the pair that was left in Aman might have taken some time to reconcile.  

(As for Turgon, he either simply won the impulse control lottery (ie -  he just takes after Indis), or got all responsible when he had Idril. )

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

Amrodnor

Amrod was on the ships, but when he saw Feanor approaching with a torch, he jumped.

He swam to shore. He figured is his family was going to kill him, he might as well leave - the plan had been to go back to his mother, but that was no longer possible.

He ran into a group of Nandor, and joined their community.

His old names didn't fit – he’s no longer the smallest Finwe, having rejected his house. He keeps half his name, and instead of Doomed or Upwards-Exalted, he becomes Exalted-by-Fire; the burning of the ships was what gave him the strength to turn from an evil path.

It takes him a bit to decide on this, dramatic Finwean he is, and in the meantime the Nandor called him Bright Eyes, for the Treelight reflected in his gaze. He says this is a more appropriate name for a horse than a person, and they compromise on calling him Star Bright

So Amrod hangs out is southwest Beleriand, avoiding Sindar and Orcs and Noldor and Men alike for over four hundred years.

The Bragollach, the Nirnaeth; Beleriand isn't safe.

The Nandor decide to go east across the mountains. Amrod decides to see how the Noldor are doing - despite himself, he hopes his brothers are okay. He finds Nargothrond.

He says he is Rodnor Gil-Galad, called in his youth after his hair.  

Orodreth doesn't recognize him - Orodreth is young, born after the division between their families was already stark. Orodreth rarely saw Amrod in Tirion, and everyone saying he looks just like Amras means the brown hair throws him.

Celebrimbor does recognize him.

"What are you doing here?" "I'm trying to avoid our family!" "I thought you were dead!" "Don't you dare tell anyone you met me!" - excerpts from the whispered confrontation in Celebrimbor's workroom

Eventually they agree that yes, Feanorians are terrible and blindly loyal, and they're both glad to be out of it.

They spend time together, a bit, more as escapees from the same cult than out of a desire to reminisce about Tirion.

Celebrimbor accidentally mentions Fingon as if they both know him in public. People ask how Gil-Galad knew him. He fumbles and says they're related. Later he slips and says Celegorm “turned out to be the family disappointment after all.” That makes him pretty obviously Finwean, though he still doesn’t admit who.

Someone tries to draw him out, and spends a whole conversation deliberately referring to Maglor Feanorian, Fingon Fingolfinion, and Finrod Finarfinion.

Rodnor eventually says, “By that manner I suppose I’m Gil-Galad Erenion.” This shuts up the first guy for a moment, but people start speculating how he can be the descendant of multiple kings – did Thingol have any other kids?

 Turin arrives; Rodnor has no opinion of him or of men in general, and no official seat on Orodreth’s council. When the dragon kills Orodreth and kidnaps Findulias, Rodnor leads the survivors away to the south. He feels bad about abandoning them, but the number of soldiers they ‘d lose rescuing her is too high, and just because a life is royal (or family) doesn’t mean it’s more valuable. (Feanor burned a prince, his son, as easily as he killed fishermen.)

His opinion on royalty isn’t widely held though. The people of Nargothrond have decided he is Orodreth’s heir and started calling him Lord Erenion. He declares that Cirdan is lord of the Falas, which gets people to at least decide bring some of their issues elsewhere, and tries not to stress about the details.

So Rodnor is in charge of the Noldor in Sirion. Galadriel is in Doriath. They do meet when it falls, but only for a few hours as the Iathrim refugees settle in, and she speaks more with Cirdan than with him. He tells her of the Nandor tribe he was with and their plans for the journey, and off she goes to the East.

After the council is over and every newcomer has a bed, Rodnor goes to Celebrimbor. They mourn privately those who neither of them dare speak of publically. Rodnor is back in his own rooms long before morning. He spends the next few weeks solemn, but everyone is gloomy after news of another kinslaying.

Gondolin falls. There are suddenly a lot more Noldor in Sirion. Pretty soon they're calling him King. He considers telling them it's not true, that the succession hasn't come to him yet.

On the other hand, having a leader be whoever happens to be the son of the previous leader is kind of silly. The Sindar tribe he was with acknowledged Elwe, but not Dior. Your leader was whoever you trusted to do right by the community. When Denethor died, his son took interim authority, and then they all met and discussed it and decided that actually Enellas knew how to manage people better, and so Denethor’s son stepped down.

If Rodnor squints, this is the same. At the very least, if the Nargothrondrim hated him one of them would have proposed crowning the ten-year-old Eärendil instead. So King Gil-Galad takes up the throne.

 He was on Balar when the attack came. He told himself later he couldn't have stopped it, couldn't have helped. He could guess by how much more enchantingly beautiful the Silmaril around Elwing's neck seemed, that his brothers would attack soon, but not the month or day. And she was a queen, he could not order her to hand over the jewel. So all he did was warn her, not tell her his birth name, or leap across the council table and pull it off her throat. He could not have known there was no time to wait for Eärendil’s return. He had not set a watch on the island towards the city, but he had no reason to.

He did not want to kill his brothers, but he was a king and he could not let that make his decisions.

He can't stop himself from crying when he sees Amras's body. The Feanorians had tried to make a pyre, but must have left with it still burning and the wet sea wind had extinguished it, and the wood had barely caught.

"Relight the pyres."

"Your Majesty?"

"For the dead Feanorians, relight them."

"But they're murderers! They showed no such respect to us." Indeed, the city is still littered with the corpses of Noldor, Men, and Sindar alike.

"And we are better than they are. We will bury our dead, with a week of singing and lamenting, and tales of their deeds told by friends and kin. We will mark our people’s graves, and the Men will leave grave goods on theirs. And we will not leave the enemy dead to rot where they lie or be eaten by beasts, though they showed us not that respect." He sighed. "We have not fallen as they have, and we must hold onto that."

"Yes, your majesty"

"Have someone take a census of those who are left. And lists of the dead – ours and theirs." He needs to know how strong the rogue army was. If it is now leaderless, he would... he isn't sure. He wouldn’t have to declare a feast for victory over the Kinslayers, they'd lost enough of their own. But some kind of amnesty, with reparations, if any Feanorian soldiers wanted to rejoin... He thinks of the abstract plans now, while he is unsure, because he knows he'll barely be able to keep together if Maedhros and Maglor are dead and he is alone. (Three died last time.)

His eldest brothers are not among the dead invaders.

Lady Elwing and her sons are not found, either dead or living. Gil-Galad knows that his brothers would have no interest in taking her prisoner, for if she was under their power they could rip their glorious, wonderful jewel from her neck and cast her aside like so much wrapping. So he assumes that instead Elwing got away somehow, taking her sons with her. Whether the Feanorians have the jewel or she does is unimportant, he reminds himself, at least unless she returns. He decides then that Balar will never house the Silmaril – he'll bury it beneath the mountains with his own two hands if that's what it takes. His people deserve one place, just one, that isn't destroyed around them. Please Valar, grant them this, for Cirdan's sake if for none of the Noldor.

Ships come one day out of the West. King Finarfin leads them, and Eärendil is with them. Eärendil says that his wife Elwing escaped, but not the boys. (Eärendil is politely told he must either take off the necklace, stay on his ship, or go to the mainland.)

Gil-Galad realizes where they must be. It's hardly fair, but he knows at least they're being treated as well as can be. Maedhros and Maglor did alright by the five of them, and have never been cruel to children.

No one else seems so optimistic, though they are willing to believe that the boys are alive, even after seven years, simply to avoid believing the alternative. Gil-Galad and Finarfin cooperate to get a letter and a messenger (a newly arrived Noldo) that will be demanding but – hopefully – not provoke violence.

It takes two years more, with messengers from both parties expressing grave concern for the boys’ safety on a journey and reluctant to meet the other too close, but Elros and Elrond are returned. They meet Eärendil again, but he is on the front lines and so they spend most of their time in the camp. Gil-Galad has them sit in on strategy meetings to keep them occupied.

 The war is over, Morgoth is defeated, and the Noldor are allowed to return.

Gil-Galad finds he doesn’t want to.

Returning had been as much about getting out of Feanor’s shadow as finding safety, and he realizes he has done the first and the second is near at hand. If he goes back to Tirion, he will be again Pityafinwe, one of Feanor’s youngest sons, half of the twins with a missing twin. The child so redundant his own mother had known so, and asked Feanor to leave her one of the youngest without care for which. Pityafinwe had led no armies, fought no battles, earned no praise. Pityafinwe killed Teleri and was murdered by his father, and did nothing else.

Sure, he could try to be both, admit he was Pityafinwe to start with, but no one will understand. The will see him as the usurper of the crown that should have gone to – Eärendil perhaps?  and then Elros? or Galadriel? Maybe they’ll weigh his victories in battle against his theft of the crown, and say they make up for it, but maybe they’ll say anyone could have done them, or he should have done them as a general in the real King’s army. So he’d be Pityafinwe, who pretended to be a king for a bit but understands now that it’s not his place, and that his place is to be the sixth-born son of the (dead, disgraced) Crown Prince.

Besides, they’re making the ‘leaders’ apologize for leaving, and Gil-Galad spent enough years wandering Beleriand safe behind Noldorin fortresses he can’t really be sorry they came.

Gil-Galad does write a letter though, to the Lady Nerdanel, his mother. He tells people that it’s commendations for her grandson’s valor, and assurance that Celebrimbor will be regarded on his own merits in the Age to come. The letter does contain those, but it also contains “You were half right about my mother-name; I was fated to die but leapt out of Fate’s way.” It’s rather blasphemous, but Gil-Galad isn’t going to be setting foot near the Valar again.

ao3

[dawnfelagund]

Character Ask: Caranthir

@fefe-homu-akemi, @floralegium, and Anonymous asked for Caranthir, so here goes!

Favorite Thing: I wrote a pretty lengthy defense of Caranthir, who I believe was misrepresented by the narrator of The Silmarillion. I’m not going to rehash that now, but one of the points I make is that he, along with Finrod Felagund, is among the most cosmopolitan of the Noldor: He forms positive relationships with many groups of people outside his own culture. Where Finrod is lauded for this, however, the same actions in Caranthir are downplayed or negatively represented.

Least Favorite Thing: For all of the Fëanorians so far, I’ve discussed their violence for this item, so let’s consider that boilerplate at this point. For Caranthir specifically, I wish he hadn’t told off his damned cousins about their palling around with Thingol. It’s a regrettable moment that Pengolodh seems to lean on heavily in his assessment of Caranthir and that looms large in the imaginations of fans as well, when they take Pengolodh’s word or, in the case of fanworks creators, otherwise develop a character that would act like this routinely rather than looking at his other actions (such as his success in relating to diverse people).

Favorite Line: “Then Caranthir looked kindly upon Men and did Haleth great honour ...” (The Silmarillion, “Of the Coming of Men into the West”)

This is evidence of the Favorite Thing but also ... man oh man, there is so much mystery embedded in those two words “great honour.” Is it simply what The Silmarillion tells us he offered her? Or is there more there? Up to and including a romantic relationship?

brOTP: Caranthir is very much a one-man wolfpack in my mind. In fact, given the number of positive relationships he forged with other people, I imagine him wearily doing his best to behave to cultivate and maintain those connections because he knows he has to but silently shaking his fist at the universe for putting him, of all people, in such an ironic position.

(In this, I relate to him a lot. I’m deeply introverted. And I’m also a middle-school teacher, and a good one--I won Teacher of the Year last year at my school. I excel at building relationships with my students, and not just the ones who are like me. So I run the gamut from warm-hearted and constantly smiling with my kiddos to a snarling misanthrope at home. I’m exaggerating a little on the last one but, yeah, I get Caranthir.)

OTP: I love Haleth/Caranthir, but my OTP for Caranthir is his wife, Taryindë (as she is called in my verse). They grew up together, both were rather awkward (really awkward, in Caranthir’s case) and experimented with each other as teenagers, and eventually married. They had two daughters, who were born in Middle-earth and survived through the First Age.

There are spoilers for future stories ahead.

Taryindë went to the Nirnaeth with her husband but agree not to ride into battle because, after all, they had two youngish children and one of their parents should survive to see them into adulthood. Only, in the grand tradition of Tolkien’s women, she did ride into battle, unbeknownst to Caranthir. When she found him unconscious on the battlefield, she defended his body with her own and saved his life.

When he woke up, she was gone. He never learned what happened to her.

(Yes, I will write this story someday but at the rate I’m going I’ll be about 73.)

nOTP: I mean, I guess Nerdanel again? I really don’t do the hardcore shipping thing where liking one pairing more than others automatically rules the others out. Caranthir is sexually precocious on the sly in my verse--this idea is explored most fully in The Sovereign and the Priest--so my imagination has already gone all sorts of places.

Random Headcanon: It’s not terribly random because I feel like it’s the elephant in the room where my Caranthir is concerned. It’s definitely the most obvious fanon that my writing has created: the idea that Caranthir was unusually sensitive to the thoughts and emotions of others. He is also not fully bound by time: He is able to perceive things in the past and the future the way that you or I could look off into the distance in place.

I’ve written many times before about where this idea came from. Essentially, I was trying to explain his animosity to the sons of Finarfin, which didn’t seem to make much sense to me. As far as Finwëans go, they are pretty harmless, at least based on what we see in the texts.

(Had I tackled this question a few years later, once I had access and had read parts of the HoMe, I probably would have gone with him being jealous of their friendship with Celegorm and Curufin, while he--stuck in the middle--was overlooked. But I was a baby in the Silm fandom when I tackled this question, hadn’t read any of the HoMe, and developed my characterization of Caranthir as a result.)

Because of his heightened sensitivity to others--a trait we know ran in Finarfin’s branch of the family tree as well--Angrod and Aegnor were able to be unkind to him without others perceiving it. Much of this centered on the fact that Caranthir had a crush on their brother’s betrothed, Amarië, which they found out about. And Caranthir was very awkward and had trouble controlling his emotions--being a constant radio tower for others’ unfiltered feelings will do that to a person--so he provided them with plenty of fodder.

(I also honestly wanted to write mindspeak in a way that wasn’t a bunch of characters sitting around and thinking at each other, which was how it was usually written at the time. I mean, imagine explaining taste or smell to a being that doesn’t have it; I tried to do that with Caranthir’s perceptions.)

Anyway, from this came my Caranthir, who is strange to the point that he is off-putting to others; in my recent Cradle of Stars, Anairë calls him “the wild one who’d been born half-mad.” Hence, also, Pengolodh’s eagerness to depict him as angry--he certainly would have looked that way at times, to those who did not know him well.

Of course, I’ve since taught many a Caranthir. @heartofoshun first suggested that Caranthir was on the autism spectrum. I never intended that reading but certainly don’t mind him being read that way at all! I’ve worked most of my career with boys with emotional disabilities and have a lot of empathy and love for people for whom interacting with the world isn’t always easy. In retrospect, even though it wasn’t my intention at the time, I’m glad I gave one of them a prominent place in my verse.

Unpopular Opinion: I suppose my argument that he was not as awful as Pengolodh claims wouldn’t be popular among the anti-Fëanorians, who have always been a significant part of the Silm fandom and who lean rather heavily on the belief (the word is very intentionally used) that the Fëanorians were not fallen but evil to begin with.

Otherwise, my Caranthir has been popular over the years, which is ironic, because in the conservative moment in Tolkien fandom history when I began writing, I was convinced that I would be excoriated for my writing of him so beyond the bounds of what Tolkien gave us (although always informed by the canon). The exact opposite happened for the most part.

Song I Associate with the Character: Bush, “Glycerine.” (Actually, the much of the angsty ‘90s alternative catalogue could fit Caranthir. He has Stabbing Westward and Linkin Park on permanent repeat.)

Favorite Image: Caranthir by @albuum. Because Caranthir is a character that I have such a strong sense of, I often find artwork that I like but don’t particularly connect to as my Caranthir. This one is pretty doggone close and features his wife too. *happy sigh*

[daywillcomeagain]

galadriel

i’ve started a series in which i do retellings of the events of a tolkien character’s life, from their perspective, framed to make them sympathetic and help the reader understand their choices. this is the first, but you’ll be able to read the rest here once i’ve posted more. they’re from discord chats, so they’re in a very casual style.

2.9K words under the cut!

galadriel is born in valinor, in the undying lands, in the west. death is unheard of. only one person has ever died in the history of the entire universe, and it was because she wanted to die. the streets are paved in diamonds; emeralds and rubies and sapphires are scattered on the beaches as a gift. galadriel is the youngest child of the youngest child of the king; she's a princess, yes, but she's fifteenth in line, eighteenth if the noldor get over their sexism by the time the king dies. and she's smart. she's absurdly smart. she goes to the valar and begs them to teach her everything. they agree to teach her as much as they are willing to. she learns mathematics and astronomy and biology and botany and anatomy and poetry and physics and chemistry. and she runs out of things to learn that the gods will teach her.

she starts dreaming of going to middle-earth. ruling her own kingdom. she's in paradise and she knows everything there is to know and nothing she does matters, not really, she could have learned it all or she could have been the best archer and runner and swimmer in the land or she could have sat at home and done nothing and it wouldn't have mattered because she's already in paradise. and she's still not taken seriously here, she has all the knowledge of the gods but in the eyes of everyone else that still doesn't make her anything more than a young girl. she is valued most not for her knowledge but for her hair, so beautiful and golden, the most beautiful anyone has ever seen. from strangers it is flattering. from those who know her, it is nothing but an insult. and she doesn't fit in anywhere, not exactly, half-lindar quarter-vanyar quarter-noldor, with blonde hair and a telerin accent that speaks so confidently of her own knowledge.

and then the king dies.

feanor gives his speech, full of fire and rebellion, and his sons jump to his side to swear an oath, and she can't tell if her shivers are terrified or excited. (maybe it's both.) he says: say farewell to the gilded cage of paradise. let us go to middle-earth. let us pursue evil, let us destroy it, we will never turn back, and we will win, and all shall bow to our glory.

galadriel has always hated feanor, but it surprises nobody that his speech wakes something up inside her. her brothers, her father, her mother, they all council calmness, of cool heads, of softness. galadriel wants to go. she is described as "the only woman of the Noldor to stand that day tall and valiant among the contending princes."

they have, of course, no boats. perhaps you have already heard this story. but let me tell it again, as she would have seen it:

it is dark. galadriel has never seen night before, not truly; she grew up in a world where the hours were marked by whether the light was the sharp gold of laurelin or the gentle silver of telperien. at least there is starlight now--it is not the pitch black of void that came with the darkness at first. but still, it is so very dark. her sight is better than humans, but it is not perfect, and she has never before lived in dark.

she is at the front of finarfin's host, which is to say that she is still at the back. it chafes, of course, because it all does, because every second in valinor aches and all she wants is to be gone.

and she arrives to see her uncles fighting her aunts, she arrives to see blood and death, she arrives at the end of a long line of people who are in sword battles with her mom.

the noldor--her dad's people--are smiths and hunters. they work with iron and diamonds. morgoth taught them how to make swords and armor and then how to point them at people. the lindar--her mom's people--are singers and fishers. they work with wood and rope, building boats and tying knots and harmonizing with the sound of crashing waves.

the outcome was, of course, inevitable.

what did galadriel do? well, that depends on which version of the story you heard. some say she fought with the lindar, used her swords and armor in a desperate attempt at defence. some say she just stood aside in shock, because everything is dark and full of blood and metal and screams and nobody has ever died before. i suppose it's your choice, in the end, because nobody could ever get up the nerve to ask her. how could they walk up to the great Lady of Lothlórien and ask her, did you kill your uncles, or did you stand aside and let your mom be murdered?

either way, it doesn't matter, in the end. the lindar are killed. the boats are taken.

this is, of course, when the valar choose to speak up. mandos lays upon them a doom that is maybe a curse and maybe a prophecy, and says that everyone who leaves now is exiled forever, and that they shall be killed, "by weapon and by torment and by grief", and that the valar do not care. he declares that every good deed they do shall end in evil, that anyone who survives shall come to see their own existence exhausting, that they shall fade and diminish and become shadows of themselves.

galadriel knows, now, that fëanor started the fight. she hates him more than ever. but she cannot help but think again of his speech, decrying the valar, decrying paradise. for she did nothing, and now they are punishing her for her half-uncle.

her father turns back, to stay with her mother. her mother whose people have been killed. it's a good decision.

but--she's been dreaming for so long, and her people are still going on, and she knows that if she stays she will never forgive herself for losing her only chance.

it is a day (or it would be, if it was not still endless night, a black sky with so very many stars) before they realize.

there aren't enough boats.

fingolfin doesn't trust fëanor. fëanor doesn't trust fingolfin. the house of finarfin doesn't trust either of them. they argue and argue and argue, who will go first, how will they do this. feanor's people took the worst losses--feanor's people started the fight--fingolfin's people trusted them and followed them and they wouldn't have if they had known--but they still trusted them, and the people of finarfin were the only ones who knew the other side--

--in the end, none of the argument matters. fëanor takes the boats when they are all asleep. sails across an ocean. waits for everyone to wake up before he sets them on fire.

this is the alternative: the helcaraxë, an arctic wasteland of freezing cold and mountains. they had already deemed it impassable. if it had not been, the first kinslaying would never have happened. by all rights, they should be trapped there, in valinor. making that walk would kill countless people. it would be suicide as surely as it would be suicide to hike across antarctica in the winter, or trying to cross siberia during a night that lasts forever.

with no light, there were no years. but later, timekeepers would calculate. it is 37 years of the sun later when galadriel steps foot, shivering, on middle-earth. and with that footstep, the moon rises for the first time.

the war is, of course, exactly as hopeless as they were told. fëanor is dead; maedhros is being tortured, publicly, visibly. they are not winning; they are only in stalemate because the enemy is not, currently, doing anything. galadriel is no longer the young princess who did not know death. she has learned something about herself, on the ice: she does not want to fight a hopeless war, no matter how beautiful the songs they sing about her death. she wants to live to tell this story.

she moves in with her great-uncle from her mother's side, instead. elu thingol. his people call themselves thindar, not lindar, but they look the same. not like the ñoldor. it's welcome. their realm is warm, and full of flowers, and safe. his wife, melian, is a wizard. galadriel has changed a lot, but this has not changed: she goes to melian and says, teach me everything you know.

and so she does.

they learn from her about the silmarils, about the oath. they do not learn from her about their dead family; she is too coward for that, still. but they do learn. when thingol learns, he makes his decree, bans quenya. she has to change her name. artanis she is no longer. she chooses her own name, in this new language. galadriel.

she gives speeches, writers letters, begging her people and her family. please, abandon this war, stop using your forces to fight morgoth and start using them to defend your people, it cannot be won, your job is not to win it, your job is to mitigate the damage. she petitions thingol and melian to take in refugees, to save as many people as can be saved.

they don't listen. nobody listens. every battle is a new casualty. her cousin, her brothers, her uncle.

(she falls in love. his name is celeborn and he has and if her hair is laurelin then his is telperion and he does not compliment her hair. he meets her after a speech, compliments her way with words, proposes meeting and teaching the men and dark wood-elves to the east. she had always thought that it was silly, when people spoke of love at first sight, but as soon as she hears that, she knows she will marry him.)

she visits the one brother who is still alive. he has collected names for himself--once findaráto, now finrod, felagund, nómin. he has made a beautiful city in the caves, where thindar and noldor and dwarves mingle. he has named himself king. he has sworn an oath.

meanwhile-- a human comes to doriath. he watches the daughter of thingol and melian--the princess lúthien--as she dances, as she sings. he calls out her name and she looks back at him and in the songs they will sing thousands of years later it is that moment that they will point to as the moment she is doomed. she brings her love to her father. her father laughs, says "he can marry you when he holds a silmaril in his hand." beren does not take this as a no. beren looks thingol in the eye and says "you're on".

finrod’s oath is to beren. galadriel’s half-cousins are still sworn to get the silmarils back at any cost. she weeps when she hears the news.

in the end, there is not yet another kinslaying. this is mostly because sauron kills her brother surely enough that her cousins do not have to bother.

(beren gets the silmaril. they get married. everyone in doriath is full of joy and hope. everyone but one.)

more die. once, she was eighteenth in line for king of the ñoldor. more have been born since, but counting herself, only two of those original eighteen walk on middle-earth. there are scarcely enough ñoldor to justify having a king. the silmaril still burns in doriath.

thingol dies in a fight over who owns the silmaril. nobody's quite clear if it's his fault or the fault of the dwarves. it doesn't really matter. melian goes into mourning, goes back to valinor. takes her protection with her. for the first time in a very long time, doriath is vulnerable. (the sons of fëanor send messengers, reminding: neither thingol nor the dwarves own the silmaril. it is theirs by birthright. and, they add carefully, they swore an oath. they do not have to say what they will do for it, because everyone knows.)

more cousins fall. if she wanted to claim High Queen of the Ñoldor, she could, probably. or maybe the kingship orodreth's, or idril's. she finds to her surprise that she doesn't really want to. she has learned at the knee of dozens of ainur, and she knows nothing that will help win the war. she wants to rule, yes--but not like this.

she still gives speeches. she doesn't really expect them to mean anything.

the sons of fëanor come. she has known them since she was a child, grew up with them. she has memories of riding and laughing and going to classes and learning how to work in the forge and being babysat when her own brothers were busy.

they kill everyone. even the children. they do not get the silmaril.

the survivors flow into a refugee camp that her cousin's daughter leads. they had crossed the ice together when galadriel was an adult and she was still a child. it is strange, to take orders from someone when you were there at their birth. but they are both old now. she does not bother to give speeches.

(they come. they kill. they do not get the silmaril. they do keep two children--twins--hostages, not dead, and she has fallen far enough to be grateful for that.)

seven years after the third kinslaying, five hundred ninety three years since fëanor’s speech, the valar arrive in beleriand. the war is horrific, but at last, at last, it is not hopeless.

galadriel fights. it is a grueling war, decades long, ainur against ainur. chunks of land break off, crumble into the sea. doriath is lost. arvernien is lost. dor-lomin is lost, hithlum is lost, nevrast is lost, all of it lost to the sea.

but they are winning.

she loses her last two cousins. they were murderers--she shouldn't care--she still cares, a little.

they win. the valar declare: you are pardoned. we forgive you. you can return to valinor, if you wish.

she almost laughs in their face. she has done nothing wrong to be pardoned for. she rejects it a thousand times over. they should be begging her pardon. they trapped her in paradise. they came six hundred years too late to save her family. and then they act as though it is such an act of mercy and graciousness, to forgive her for the terrible crime of being related to kinslayers.

she learns that another of her relations--gil-galad--has taken up the kingship of the noldor. she and her husband build a city within the land he has claimed as his kingdom, for the sindar who chafe at noldorin rule. she moves, after a while, to eregion; her half-cousin once-removed rules, there. grandson of fëanor, son of curufin. he does not call himself that, though she has seen the star he puts on his work. he introduces himself instead as a craftsman. celebrimbor of eregion, and that is all.

she is happy enough, for a while, but she is restless. her husband says that he has connections on the other side of the mountains. they speak a language there--silvan--that is not quite telerin and not quite sindarin; she learns it quickly enough. she agrees to move, and they do, passing through khazad-dum at the height of its glory.

it is not long after that they learn that sauron is still around. celebrimbor sends her a ring.

this, too, is a song you have heard. gil-galad was an elven king, of him the harpers sadly sing. they wave celebrimbor’s corpse as a banner.

and then--then, it is just her. they are all dead.

she becomes a queen, but not of the noldor. laurelindórenan, the native silvan elves call it. they are a peaceful people who know as much of battle as the lindar did. it breaks her heart to change that, but she knows it is a choice between that and death. she takes over, crowning herself queen in all but name. she establishes borders. she helps them to fight. galadriel and celeborn become lady and lord of lothlórien.

she has a daughter. celebrían's hair is as silver as her husband's.

she marries elrond. she is so, so happy.

celebrían is on her way to visit galadriel and celeborn when she is captured and tortured by orcs. elrond heals her, physically, but she never recovers. she leaves for valinor, for real. and again galadriel is alone.

all the while, she wears the ring. because she knows that mandos spoke true when he gave his doom so many thousands of years ago, and she knows that she has rejected his pardon. here in middle-earth, she will fade, she will diminish. she has seen it happen: elves whose bodies just give out, becoming thin and transparent and then just a voice on the breeze and then nothing at all.

but as long as she wears the ring, that does not happen in lothlórien. as long as her ring still has power.

--you know the rest of the story. frodo comes. he is the temptation. she declines the Ruling Ring. she has seen too much of what her family will do, given power. in valinor, she dreamed of coming to middle-earth for a kingdom.

she knows he plans to destroy it. she knows that her ring will lose its power, should the One be destroyed. she also knows that it is the right thing to do.

and so she has two choices. she can stay, and fade, slowly but surely. or she can go again to the west, a returned exile penitent for crimes she did not do, walk again in paradise, useless and heartbroken.

(at least her father will be there. he had stayed, so very long ago, and she had left.)

out of all the peoples of the world, it was only the lindar who could make swan-ships. thousands of years ago, they were all burned, the wealth of the lindar gone in a single fire.

when galadriel sails back to valinor, it is in a swan-ship.

[legolasgoldy]

Know what, why not? Finarfin/Eärwen for the ship meme 🤔 Meanwhile, have a cookie 🍪😉

   // Thank you so much!!! haha @justadutchperson This was fun even though Finrod covered his eyes for a few questions XD Also, im sorry for some short answers, in my mind they are one of the most healthy relationships you could possibly come by

Send me a ship and I’ll tell you…                        

Who asks the other on dates:

I think both of them, they have a wonderful mutual thing going on where they both ask each other on dates. When they first met, they were very formal way of greeting each other, but there was that smile they each had.. they were totally crushing for the longest time. Then finally Finarfin asked her out, and then the next time she asked him out. So on and so on. They were very sweet about it.

Who is the bigger cuddler:

They both are cuddle machines.

Who initiates holding hands more often:

At first it was Earwen, because Finarfin was too polite do it first, and then after the first few times they both do.

Who remembers anniversaries:

Both

Who is more possessive:

I dont think they are possessive? They love and trust each other completely.

Who gets more jealous:

Well like i said in the previous question, they love and trust each other completely so they wouldnt get jealous over thinking one of them were flirting with someone else. Or anything like that. They might get jealous over not being able to spend as much time together as they would like, even if they understood they were busy, so only a smidge.

Who is more protective:

A tie? Im pretty sure its a tie because both are extremely protective of each other and their children. This is why Finarfin went with his children when everyone was going to ask the Teleri for the ships. he begged Earwen for her to stay behind, he couldnt bear for her to be in danger and he promised her he would take care of their children for her. 

Who is more likely to cheat:

Neither. Never.

Who initiates sexy times the most:

I know I keep saying this but i honestly think, they both do. They are so connected they dont need to ask.

Who dislikes PDA the most:

Neither of them show it too much. Not only do elves not show much pda, they are also royalty. So the most they do is chaste kisses and holding hands/arms.

Who kills the spider:

Neither! They both happily put the spider in a cup and take it outside.

Who asks the the other to marry them:

Finarfin

Who buys the other flowers or gifts:

Oh this is a close one, they both give each other little gifts i cant decide which gives the most. Earwen brings him pretty things like seashells, Teleri things, flowers. And Finarfin brings her flowers and other gifts from Tirion. ( when courting, after marriage it changes a bit but they still give each other gifts often)

Who would bring up possibly having kids:

Well..they both were thinking about it, and they both knew they wanted them, but Earwen was the first to actually say it out loud. She told him she wanted to hear the voices of their children through the palace, and see the imprints of their little feet in the sand as they played on the shores by her home. 

Who is more nervous to meet the parents:

Finarfin, oddly enough. Earwen was very brave and happy to meet Finwe and discuss her feelings for his son, she could only see a positive future ahead and while she wasnt of Noldor descent, she knew Finwe had married outside of the Noldor as well. Where as Finarfin was hella nervous to tell Olwe of his feelings for Earwen.

Who sleeps on the couch when the other is angry:

Finarfin.. aka when he comes back without their children and she finds out he and their children participated in the slaying of her people. He slept on the “ couch” for a very very long time.

Who tries to make up first after arguments:

The only real fight they ever had was when he returned after the kinslaying and Finarfin pleaded for forgiveness numerous times. He never stopped trying to make up for it, and eventually she does forgive him but he secretly blames himself for not trying harder to bring their children home. Even if he knows nothing he could have done would have convinced them to return. And the kinslaying was a horrible mistake, surprisingly Earwen could cope with that more because they were horribly mislead and didnt realize. What she couldnt cope with, was their children being alone and thats why she was so upset with Finarfin for a while.

Who tells the other they love them more often:

Its another tie