#finarfin x you

[lovefairymina]

“Ah, Arafinwe my love. I'm bored and afraid to inform you that I have no solution to cure my boredom,” you sighed and flopped onto the sofa in his study. “Cure my boredom, my love. Any ideas?”

“Well,” he began as he placed his book down, “I have the entire day off, so I’m at your expense. Whatever you want to do, we can—a trip to the coast, a ride through the forest, a wall on the beach or spending some time between the ahem…sheets—I’m all ears. Just say.”

[witchofhimring]

To you who is lost

Chapter 1: Duty is the death of love

Chapter synopsis: Your husband leaves for despair and death. Left behinde, you are left at the mercy of others.

Warnings: Angst, abandonment, crying, pregnancy

Note: Usually I save notes for the end but this time I will also put some at the beginning. I am using their Quenya names (ex. Maedhros is called Maitimo).

Emmeril, Airin and llë are my OC's

You would lament thereafter for the lack of foresight. The wise in Arda would mourn their kindred, who had stepped out of bliss and into woe. Nerdanel, Amarië, Anairë, these great women of the Blessed Realm were linked in sorrow to those left behind. You joined this tragic assembly, united in regret. Days would waste away as you asked " What was there to be done?". Anguishing over every time you could have forestalled these harrowing events.

It had been a storm, slowly strengthening until its power was too great to prevail. Deceived, one and all had been taken in. Melkor's repentance had seemed so genuine. Save Tulkas and Curufinwe none had heeded any notion of trickery. Now the dark Vala's laughter rang in Angamando, echoing off the stone walls. In your own halls, you sighed. Brought so low you were a specter of the beautiful young elf maiden whose laughter had lit up Tirion. These days were dark with the Alduya felled.

"Will you come to bed?" Amarië, whose suffering was as great as yours, came forward. Together they cast their gazes to the darkness beyond. All of Arda had been plunged into an impenetrable shadow. Amarië's light was much dimmed, her golden hair hanging forlornly. She had always been pale and thin but her boundless joy had given her strength which many envied. They need envy no longer. Findaráto had sworn to return and Amarië held him to it. She was bound to him, although not formally, and believed he would return. For a time Amarië would remain before departing. She would dwell in her home and wait for Findaráto.

You had been gifted no such reassurance. Cast off, Maitimo had spurned every vow he made. Bitter words were exchanged, things that could not be unsaid. Unlike Amarië's stalwart serenity, you had wept. Your marriage had been waning for some time now. When Curufinwe stormed into exile you followed to Formenos. In Formenos you would lose your husband.

The laws of the Eldar commanded that husband and wife be one in all things. Never had you any cause to doubt these customs. Naturally, a husband and wife must cleave together. Growing up in a big, tightly-knit family, a certain worldview had been formed. There was never any doubt that if you married your husband would always protect you. And how could you not? Your father had always been so devoted to your mother, his desire to make her happy endless.

Your worldview had been, to a degree, changed when you married Maitimo. The house of Finwe had been in turmoil for quite some time. Since Finwe cemented his union Indis despite the protests of his son Feanaro, his progeny had torn at one another. Though to Nolofinwe's credit, the war was pitifully one-sided. Even those who had never encountered either prince heard of the brotherly animosity. A pungent cloud of this great house, many feared for the day a storm would break. Coming from a close family this was something of an anomaly. Your father had quarreled with his brothers, but nothing could sunder their bond. Your mother had her gripes with her sisters, but their love always brought them together again. Being the eldest of your family you had the unenviable job of keeping rambunctious youngers siblings in line. However no matter what troubles came your, love and affection remained. Perhaps this made the end inevitable.

You begged him not to leave that day. The death of High King Finwë plunged all of Arda into grief. Sickening amounts of blood were saturated into the ground. From there after that very spot was stained by Melkor's vile deed. The smell sent your head reeling and burning bile to bubble. You had never seen a dead body before and abhorred the slaughter of animals. They might think you weak for it, but you knew this sight would curdle the blood of even the most austere of elves. Wails of despair took the place of joy. The light had faded and everything became dark. If only it had stopped there, oh by Eru how you wished this was the worst.

It all started on a day filled with joy. Manwë had summoned the Houses Fingolfin and Curufinwë, ordering peace between the two families. Brother took brother in hand and promised peace and friendship. Though how sincere Curufinwë was remained unknown. Many times you had witnessed Curufinwë rage over his younger brother. He howled over the "spawn of Indis" and cursed him. Such festering resentment could not be swept aside by simple sweet words. "I know we should be glad. But I can not help feeling dread." Maitimo simply took your hand in his. "I assure you that nothing bad will happen." His smile reassured you. Oh how wrong he was. When the darkness fell confusion and fear reigned. Finwë was dead, the Silmarills stolen and half of the Edain of Valinor gone. The only respite was Arafinwë returning to take leadership.

All the lights went out. Melkor had drained the trees of all their light, and from there he fled. But there was no running from the darkness. Warmth and light were replaced by darkness and dread. Wails of the bereft took the place of laughter. You who had once been so full of joy had only despair for company. Things had been far from perfect even before the oath. When Curufinwë had been exiled your husband went with him. Of course, you understood his duty as the eldest son. But it didn't make the move from Tirion to Formenos. That day you had to leave behind all those you loved. Try as you might to sway Maitimo to stay, it worked to no avail. In those days you would have done anything for him, and so where he went you followed. You tried not to complain. Even when Curufinwë's temper became unbearable, or your friends stopped sending letters. You could not blame them, living in the court of temporary King Nolofinwë and keeping in touch with you was risky. At least your family was supportive. Your younger sisters and brothers But even in those cold days you still would never have thought Maitimo would leave you. The years had been trying, but he still cared for you in those days. Years later in the dead of night, as you lay awake, you wondered if every "I love you" had been a lie.

"Please, if you have ever loved me you would stay." He did not meet your eyes. He just looked back to the army assembling in the courtyard below. "Have I not followed you all these years? What could I have done for you to cast me aside!" You seized his arm. Gently he pried you off him. "Y/n, you must understand that I have to go. Of course you may follow me-" "I have done nothing but follow you! Maitimo this is suicide!" It was at this point your father in law chose to appear, ascending the steps in a storm of fury. "If you do not choose to follow your husband, as you are sworn to do, then you are no wife!" Temperamental, yes, but now there was the flame of madness dancing in his eyes. Curufinwë had taken leave of his senses. "My vows said that I would follow him as my conscious dictates! As your wife has stayed in Valinor so shall I." The comment was poorly timed. Anger beat so furiously in your chest that you thought not of the consequences. With a roar of unbridled fury, Curufinwë drew his sword. Horrified, both you and Maitimo stepped back. The tip was right at your neck, an inch further would slice the flesh. "Depart, faithless wretch! And do not let me find you lurking in these hall again lest I strike you dead!" Maitimo drew you away and behind him. "You will cease your insults of my wife." You stared up at him in awe. Here he was standing up to his father, possibly the greatest of the Noldor. You had thought at that moment Maitimo had seen sense. He led you off to a room, away from his father and the chaos below.

"Maitimo!" You flung your arms around his shoulders. An elated kiss was placed on his forehead. But his eyes were sad with what you later realized was guilt. Gently he pried you off of him. He was gentle but his actions indicated he wanted to put distance between you and himself. "Do-?" You were unable to finish. Maitimo closed his eyes and whispered something so quietly under his breath you almost missed it. Almost. "Please." "Maitimo?" Your temporary relief was dashed as quickly as it came. "Y/n, I must follow my father." One could hear a pin drop. Your world had been torn apart, fractured almost beyond repair. "My Lord-Maitimo! You must not!" Your body was shaking, horror gripping you like a vice. Your legs seemed unable to hold themselves, such was the agony you felt at that moment. Falling to your knees, you started to beg.

"Husband, if you have any love for me then-" Suddenly Maitimo's could not even meet your eye. "You will not sway me Y/n." His voice was hard, cold, a tone he had recently adopted and that reared its head more and more frequently. You could not believe what you were hearing. Your husband seemed to disregard the bond between man and wife, that they must always stay side by side. And here he was abandoning you at your hour of need. You were scared. Finwë was dead and the rest were in self imposed-exile. The journey ahead scared you. To leave the safe haven of Valinor was suicide. You could understand avenging the King, you had great love and respect for him. And as King he must be avenged. But this was beyond simple revenge. This very act would tear apart the house of Finwë, and all of Valinor. Your family. Curufinwë's heart had turned dark and following him to this end. And there was another, more overriding reason. A shaking hand went to your stomach.

It could be a lie to say that everything had been perfect before the darkening. Hard to admit, but your presence in the family was not welcomed by everyone. Curufinwë and his son who shared the same name looked upon you with disdain. You were to head-in-the-clouds for them to ever like. You tried, only to end in ridicule and failure. The escalation was partly your fault, afraid of causing trouble Maitimo was never told. Looking back, telling Maitimo might have been wiser. Alas, you did not. This was not to say the rest were unkind. Never had there been a great closeness between Tyelkormo, Carinstir and yourself, there was also never ill blood either. Though you were better acquainted with the latter's wife, Ilë. Macalaurë had always been kind but rather unapproachable, him being so proud. You supposed that was what Emmeril liked about him. The twins you were the closest to, out of the lot, Telvo and Pityo. His cousins hailing from the house of Nolofinwë you held a greater preference for. Save Turokáno who thought you rather silly.

There lay a great enmity between the houses Curufinwë and Nolofinwë. Or rather, Curufinwë held a deep mistrust and dislike of his younger brother. The ill sentiment had spread like a poison to all his kin, even the children. During the exile in Formenos you were forced to meet Findecáno and his younger sister, at times with Arakáno. Those years had been hard, especially for those such as Turkafinwë and Maitimo who forged deep bonds with their kin. Curufinwë the younger missed Írissë, despite his attempts to hide it. Those years in Formenos had been horribly lonely, bereft of company. With a family far away and friends forced to stay in Tirion company was limited. Only two friends had accompanied you. But denied company they soon started to despair. Despite what it cost you have them leave. Many tears had been shed that day. The resentment between the various members of Curufinwë started to devour the residents. Anger brewed, bitterness ensued.

"And Indis's brood wander those halls, our halls! What right... what claim does the House of Indis have to my father's throne! The throne of my forefathers!" Around Curufinwë's table everyone sat, save Ilë who pleaded exhaustion. The rest of you were not spared Curufinwë's rage. Sitting next to Maitimo your hands shook, his hand on your knee. The twins sat closest to their father, though Telufinwë not leaning in as close. Turkafinwë's seemed unusually thoughtful, for such a brash elf. Curufinwë the younger's face was obscured from shadow, his silent wife beside him. Morifinwë was leaning in towards Curufinwë with a red flush crawling up his face. Kanafinwë and Emmeril sat on the sidelines, observers of Curufinwë's rant. You would give anything to leave this table.

"What of our Uncle Arafinwë?" Maitimo was far too fond of his half-uncles for Curufinwë's liking. You could see his thin pale lips tighten. His dark blue eyes, bloodshot, narrowed in on Maitimo. "He is his mother's son." Curufinwë's stance was clear. Your thoughts went to Amarië who you had not seen in years. Last you heard Findaráto had pledged to marry her. Wondering if Curufinwë would allow you to attend their wedding, you looked outside. Formenos was cut off from the rest of Valinor. Held up in these mountains it was hard to see anything else. It only served to make you feel more nervous.

"Though, I do wonder if not everyone is paying attention." Curufinwë's tone made it seem he was scolding a child. Except it was you. "My apologies." Quickly covering your mistake, you sat there rigidly. "My wife meant no offense." Maitimo was swift to defend. Curufinwë looked ready to say more but chose to abstain. All you could do was stare at your lap, numb with anxiety.

Maitimo had changed. The bleakness and chill of Formenos had worn on everyone. Exhaustion had settled over the residents like a heavyweight. Loneliness became a constant companion, stalking you like a specter. In the beginning, it was not so bad. You spent time making this place a home. A small garden was built in the courtyard with help from Maitimo. Carefully you tended to the delicate petals, their white petals reflecting light. He would wind them in your hair, cascading down in a waterfall of flowers. They spent much of their time holed up inside their room. It became a safe haven, a world that separated themselves from all the torments outside. Light blue curtains adorned the windows, you had elected for a more simple style. Windows were left open a crack letting fresh air in. At times like these you could forget about everything.

The years passed and the bond between husband and wife started to crumble. A great toll was upheaving this family. Twelve years was but the link of an eyes to elves. For this family however, it dragged on. Every moment served to increase Curufinwë's rage and desire to avenge himself burned within. Like a disease it spread, its symptoms laying low the spirits of his heirs. Maitimo became sullen and the fire within seemed to flicker. The letters hailing from Tirion, where his beloved cousin Findecáno resided, remained unopened for days. When Maitimo finally did dare to gaze upon the contents they were for him only. Afterwards Maitimo would grow sullen once more and would disappear. Behind his back, although it brought guilt, you read its contents. It was the words of a cousin who missed his friend. He talked of times past and expressed joy in those to come. "I hope for further joy, so that all ill will become forgotten." He had written. Letters arrived from your sister as well. Airin was the closest in age to you, being only a few years your junior. Residing in the court of Anairë, Airin would provide information. King Nolofinwë ruled wisely and was much loved. Such tidings brought you no joy. Eru knew what Curufinwë might say. She was not the only one to bring information, Findecáno wrote to you as well, with affection that did little to curb a growing fear. He wished you well, that the days bring peace, but those words soothed not. There lingered an underlying anxiety to his words. Try as he might to cover it up.

"My dear daughter, we are well. But it would truly warm our hearts to know you too are well. Do not forget that all of us (yes, all of us) miss you dreadfully" Those letters remained in a safe wooden box. Sometimes you would read them when lonely. Even your brothers, who were a great many years younger, had written. Sadly, letters were no substitute for true company. Ilë, wife of Carnistir, was a good friend. But as time dragged on Ilë retreated and clung to her husband. Less and less she patrolled the halls, staying with her husband in solitude. Making friends with the other elf maidens, there was still a poignant loneliness. All they did was remind you of those left behind.

"It is merely your father's words, my love. Your uncle would never harm any of us." Your husband's anguish hurt you in turn. As a wife it was agonizing to know his pain and yet have no balm to heal the wound. Another one of Findecáno's letters lay forlornly on the bedside. Instead of bringing joy they served to torment. Maitimo was slumped against his chair by the windows. His bright blue eyes were focused on the mountains beyond. You stood beside him, fingers running through his red hair. For a while you said nothing. Gently you stroked his cheek which was unusually sallow. Leaning forward you kissed the cheek. Slightly, he leaned into your affection. "I know you will do what is right." Had those words strengthened him, or heaped on yet greater pressure onto Maitimo.

Everything changed when that great host left Valinor. You were left alone and exposed with no one to protect you. Everyone was either gone or wanted nothing to do with you. Maitimo had ordered those of his followers who stayed behind to protect you. But would they be able to? And could you, in good conscience, place those who were under your care into great danger? Thank Eru Arafinwë took pity on your condition. You had been barricaded in Formenos for fear when the youngest son of Finwë and his host came upon the fortress. To your surprise, he brought along Indis and Nerdanel. Despite your disgrace, they brought you with them to Tirion.

You sat on a bench with an outlook to the garden below. Despite its glamorous beauty, it brought you no joy. There was no light for the Two Trees had been utterly drained. It felt like divine providence, the trees set and your love as gone. Now it was dark as the hole in your heart. "Y/n, dear, you should no linger in the cold for so long. "Nerdanel stepped out onto the outlook. " Is it dinner already?" You drew your cloak tighter around yourself. Instinctively your hands cradled your ever expanding belly. "Yes. And Indis has prepared your favourite." At one times these temptations would have been rather tempting. But no food could fill you. Not now. "If not yourself then at least for him." "You are so certain?" Coming from Nerdanel the Wise the idea she might already know was not preposterous. Relenting, you got up. The baby was all you had left.

"And are we to forget that this woman chose to go into exile, against all common sense and decency." It was as you expected. Even with the new Lord of the Noldor beside you. It was Arafinwë's first council as leader (would that make him King now?) in the great halls. You remembered that last time you had been here. How Curufinwë unsheathed his sword and pointed it at his own brother. You recalled the horror and revulsion on the audience's face, and now all their eyes were on you. Every important lord and lady of Valinor were judging you. It hurt to know that some of them had once been your friends. Perhaps everything had been a lie. Your husband despised you and the rest of Valinor bore mistrusted.

"You forget, My Lord, that as a Princess and member of her lord husband's household, she was bound to follow him to whatever ends. It was only when it all became too much did Y/n depart from her husband. Her moral convictions won out, and despite their fëas being one she forsook him." Arafinwe's voice held a steely edge you had not yet heard before. The youngest son of Finwë was often misconceived as being shy, timid even. This was a misconception, he was simply quiet. Never should one misconstrue kindness for complacency. But one should never be complacent with the belief that silence means stupidity. Arafinwë stood up, white robes billowing behind him. You felt Nerdanel place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Have we fallen so far that we would attack a lonely woman? If we are to proceed with revenge in this matter, are we truly worthy to live amongst the Vala and Maia?' Some had the grace to look ashamed. Despite this, there were still some who had misgivings.

"My Lord, if I may speak." Lady Nimlothel served the house of Nolofinwë, more specifically it was his Lady wife she owed her allegiance to. With an elegant stride, she took the floor. "You may." Arafinwë answered, although his eyes looked wary. "The Lady Y/n is not responsible for her husband's ill deeds. Although I would like to add that Lady Nerdanel never fled into exile, a most wise decision. I suggest that the Lady Y/n retire, at least for a time. It would be unwise to allow such a remnant of Curufinwë's treachery to remain here." You felt so cold, so alone. They might not lock you up, but exile was little better. You would hide away, a forgotten remnant in a far off castle. An embarrassing chapter of Arda's history. Arafinwë sat down, troubled. "This council is dismissed. We shall convey at morning tomorrow."

"We may reside by my parent's hearth. They extend this offer to you too." Emmeril had bolted the chest shut. Sitting on a bed you watched Makalaurë's wife hastening departure. She along with Airin, wife of Curufinwë the Younger (your husband's brother) remained in Valinor. Ilë alone had departed, swearing to follow her husband Morifinwë, to whatever end. You prayed to Eru she would be well. Airin had long since departed. Saddened over the loss of husband and son she departed, destination unknown.

"My Lady, is that all?" One of Emmeril's handmaidens entered. "Take these out to the yard, then we depart." Once the handmaiden departed Emmeril turned to you. "What do you hope to accomplish by staying?" The bond between Emmeril and yourself had never been great. It was not personal dislike so much as never truly understanding one another. Emmeril was stern and hard, chafing against your soft and easy nature. But she had never been cruel or given you reason for mistrust. Emmeril's reasoning was wise in this matter. Leaving Tirion could allow you to start anew. You might have done so if it were not for the babe that dwelt within you. What sort of life would your child have? A permanent exile for the rest of their days? Could you even call yourself a mother while condemning a child to such a fate? Emmeril may think you a fool, and perhaps she was right to think so. But you would not reveal this secret to her. Now was not the time and frankly you were not ready.

Emmeril did not stay long, but departed for her family's home. You watched her go until the last of her horses were over the hill. The room suddenly felt colder, more forlorn. A choked sigh bordering on sobs left your mouth. At times like these you would have walked in the garden with Ilë. Only it was pitch black out and Ilë was gone. A soft knock at your door alerted you. Amarië swept in, pink silk trailing behind. "Y/n, Nerdanel wishes to give council." Rising up you followed Amarië. The hallway was obscured with shadows, torches providing ailing light. Even with windows barred shut you could still feel a draft. Even Amarië seemed to feel it, drawing her robe tighter. Every step echoed in these silent halls. Most had either fled Tirion or barricaded themselves in their rooms. Only guards remained patrolling the halls.

Nerdanel had taken quarters next to Queen Indis. Was Indis even still queen? Suspiciously guards regarded your presence. "Lady Nerdanel had sent for Lady Y/n. Queen Indis is aware." They let you in with a look of reluctance on their faces. The swords on their sides glimmered in the torchlight. Only a short time ago none dared to disregard the Valar's ordinance. Now none dared leave their rooms without protection. Such were these sad times. Nerdanel bore her usual attire, baggy brown pants and a white shirt. Her hair, Nerdanel had her back turn to you, was tied in a loose braid. Rubble and tools lay scattered. When Amarië cleared her throat Nerdanel seemed to finally take notice. "Lady Amarië, thank you." Amarië curtsied and made to leave. "Hold-" "I must depart. Lady Nerdanel wishes to speak to you in private." Now it was just Nerdanel and you. Nerdanel lightly kicked a hammer out of the way and picked up a tray. You smelt citrus and a hint of cinnamon. Sitting down you watched Nerdanel pour a cup of tea. "Care for some?" You nodded. You had the feeling this conversation was not simple idle chat.

Nerdanel did not beat around the bush. After a sip, her grey eyes focused on you. The look was not critical, but the one she adopted when an important topic was at hand. "I heard Emmeril offered you a place at her family home. Why did you not go?" She was not being critical, just inquiring. "I have never been close to Emmeril. It would be an intrusion on my part." Nerdanel poured another cup. "Will you remain here indefinitely?" "Nerdanel I do not know what to do. I am lost. In leaving I condemn myself and the baby to exile. In staying ill may come too, for those that support the Houses of Nolofinwë and Arafinwë have no love of Curufinwë's kin." Nerdanel reached out calloused hands, worn by years of her craft. Your own was not so smooth, for years of gardening had hardened the skin. "Fate may be kinder to you. Our king wishes to provide what help he can." The attempt was well made, yet still you remained unsettled. "My fate is solely in the hands of others. If I stay then it is another exile. I banish my freedom. Perhaps I should leave and lessen others' hold on me." Nerdanel's gaze went to your belly. If one was unaware they would not know. But soon it would swell and then what would happen then? Your family would be harboring a potential heir. Arafinwë was good and wise, but the actions others you must look to. Would they see the baby as a contender? If you stayed at court then an alliance could be built and no one could accuse you of hiding.

"Do what you think is best for yourself and the baby Y/n. But do not forget, make sure you stand on your own feet."

Note: This story has been in my drafts since September and was originally meant to be a one shot. A story surrounding the lives of those who stayed in Valinor is something I have been interested in for a while now. I am unsure how long this story will be. I will also be using the Quenya pronunciation for everyone's names unless canonically one is not provided. All the sons of Feanor use their mother-name except for Curufin.

While I use Jodie Comers face in the gifs and aesthetics for this story it is not meant to be a face claim. I simply like to use a certain character/acter's face in each series.

My OC's (the unnamed wives of the sons of Feanor) are my stand ins for the wives in every fanfic going forward. This is unless I write an x-reader involving one of the three married sons. In that case I will simply write them out. But going forward in this story and others they will exist. I intend to make character profiles for them at some point.

If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!

[searchingforserendipity25]

eönwë/finarfin and 34 or finarfin/eärwen and 37, if you're willing :3

Thanks so much @that-angry-noldo! It was hard to choose which option to go for, but have a long-in-the-works Finarfin and Eärwen post-War of Wrath, with the prompt - kiss as a suggestion <3

To Dance & Be Merry. AO3.

Finarfin had never enjoyed Tirion's balls.

Dancing, of course - all of Indis' children were excellent dancers, graceful and expressive, technically disciplined. But balls had only ever been occasions of state to him, his first battlefields. Comfortable and cloying, full of familiar faces. In the Noontide, they had been so full of a forceful delight that left not the means to grasp at the uneasy tensions underneath.

 He could not remember a time when the great celebrations of Tirion had not been a mire of undercurrents between his elder brothers and their factions, a time before he had been mediator and meddler, alternating between one side and the other, inventing middle grounds on crumbling sand.

Only when he first lived in Alqualondë did he know the joys and wave-hushed delights of the revels in the sea pools and deep caves, that he realized it was possible to feast and be glad with no high-strung edge of the merriment. Or, rather - when the sea spirits came to join the dancers, it was an awed terror and joy that lifted voices and limbs. Not anger, badly stifled; not grief.

Long had it been since there was such joy by the sea, even in Aman.

Fëanáro and Nolofinwë no longer held court on opposite sides of the vast marbled ballroom; their friends and supporters were grown into warriors all, from Miriel's old sister-weavers to Lalwendë's erstwhile band of suitors and spies. Warriors, dead in the ruins of Beleriand or returned to Tol Eressëa or Lorien's care. Few of the Exiles had made the journey back to Tirion, and of those that came most found it to bitter a return to linger long in the white city of the Noldor.

Arafinwë held court instead, over what remained of his father's realm. There were not enough dancers, now, for the largest of the circle dances - gaps between couples, where once the crush of perfumed satins and silks, brocade and velvet and bare arms smelling of rosewater and violets had been dizzying. 

And yet. And yet! There was joy, too, if not an easy one

“Strive to look more engrossed in charming your queen. A king ought to enjoy victory.” 

Finarfin ought not to have startled so. His instincts were still painfully alive to every little alarm. He acted by habit, old habit - he set his chin, took Eärwen's proferred hand, and let her sweep him off his feet.

There was such a fine, glinting edge to her words. Finarfin noted it, felt the sting like a thin blade between the ribs. He felt a dozen such wounds every day; it seemed to him extraordinary, at times, that he had not bled out entirely.

He could not die. Nor lay down his burdens and lay down on Lorien's glens, though his bones were as lead, his hands wracked with shivers; not close himself in his quarters and pray for long years, as his sister Findis did, and his mother in Valimar, who had not come down from her place of repose even for the celebrations of victory. He could not die, though so often all he saw were the battlefields, and the wreckage afterwards - though so many had gone, well-armed and blessed, and so few remained of the Host of the Valar.

The dancers embraced, around them, spun each other around, sang gladly in homecoming. Eärwen's hand pressed cool and firm around his. Finarfin was not so strong at heart that he did not find it a comfort, though her eyes were cold and her heart veiled from him as they had been before he had gone to make war on the Enemy. 

He had dreamed of her looking at him just so, and even mud-stained and chilled and wracked with fever in the burned fields of Beleriand he had not been such a fool to think it could ever be otherwise. But he had wanted, hoped - something simple, a moment's respite only.

His head pulsed painfully. One too many blows in the War - one too many helmets taken off and offered to the wounded, on those last forward charges to give the rearguard time to retreat with stretchers and the medics gathering the wounded on their sledges. He only wanted to lie die, truly - somewhere dark and cold, away from the crowds, the joyful singing, Earwën's clever, too-sharp attention.

Nor had Earwën's welcome been very warm, when the returning host made their way up mountains from the shore. But this one challenge he could not pretend to ignore.

It was an old game from before. They had honed the rules and strategies during childish plays and dances during solemn visits, learned to weave intent and desire into it during their courting ploys on the shores of the sea. It had been the promise of their early marriage, so full of laughter and cheerful conspiracies.

Pay attention to me, and try your luck, but I shall not laugh, Eärwen would decree; and then of course Finarfin had to do his best to achieve that impossible feat. So too he was swept out of his own spells of melancholy.

Before, there had been no victory or vindication taken out of each other. If they stole a smile, it was only ever given back as a gift. If a moment’s weakness was glimpsed, it was well-kept as a secret - hidden from sight with a sweeping gesture, a distraction. They had been such dear friends, such foolish, deliberate lovers. 

Now, Eärwen was not so kind. Subtly, for a moment in between dances - the line of her nose tender against the curve of his jaw, her mouth ghosting the edge of his embroidered collar. A kiss, amidst the crush; a glancing touch, a laughing trick of tripping footwork. 

“My lady,” Finarfin said, flushing slightly. His temples ached; his mind, bruised at the edges and weary of the confusion around them, struggled to guard itself, to close any impression of feeling or discomfort. “It has been long since I have known such revelry, and my feet are not steady. Have a little mercy.” 

“My lord, I would; but I do not care to,” Earwën said, in perfectly natural tones, feet perfectly steady as she guided them through the next moves, and Finarfin nearly gave the game away by smiling. 

He had not thought it possible to smile. The flutists were making their way through a somewhat overwrought passage; that, combined with the silver bells and the drums and the gong, had Finarfin's jaw tight for hours already.

“Am I not charming my queen? Forgive me my negligence; I thought I was to be merely to be an opponent against a cunning sabotage.” 

Earwën lifted her arm; Finarfin slid, stepped, turned where she lead, as if they were children again, dancing in the sand - King Olwe's tall and stately girl-child, to whom the spirits of the sea whispered secrets from the mouths of sea shells, and King Finwe's youngest, slight and smiling Ingoldo, had a talent for hiding away and going unseen when he wished it, and often wished it, but never when she was near.

He snuck a swift, nipping kiss to the line of her throat, half-hidden by her veil. This time, Eärwen's laugh came from lower in her throat, a sweet, secret sound. Finarfin's skin grew heated at the sound of it. This, too, had been familiar to him, once.

Finarfin's ears ached with the strength of his flush; but he, too, had drunk generously of the sweet honey passed around all evening.

The music had been joyful and pleasing, once; Finarfin could not quite tell when it had gone from high to a growing torment, but the king could hardly leave a wedding without offending. Least of all when he had fought with both of the newly-wedded - when he had watched them tend to each other's wound, and call each other back from despair, all the way to Angband and back.

His gladness for their joy was true, as true as any joy he could harness in himself. But now the rituals were finished, and the wedded were gone to their own private rejoicing; and if in theory he was left to lead the rest of the feasting, the truth was the party had long outgrown his authority. There was a great fervour in the air, laughter and weeping - many other couples, he had noted, had gone from the dancing to find some respite in the cool shadows of the gardens; others still remained sitting and speaking with the kin they had been long parted from, or stood in dear silence.

They had not danced together since first the music started. Among the Noldor, only wedded couples danced together during wedding celebrations - but the wedding had been celebrated between a warrior of the Vanyar and one of Finarfin's own guard, and in the way of the Vanyar, the rules were not so stern. Finarfin had danced with both grooms, and with others among his companions; and then the circle dances had started, and the standard-dances, with pennants raised high and lines going under and around strung ribbons in many bright colours.

After so long amidst the black mists and fell fires of falling Beleriand, Finarfin's eyes stung to behold all this brightness. And brightest of all was the queen of the Noldor, as she presided over the evening. Radiant in wide sea-silk trousers, chains of abalone and mother-of-pearl and malachite strung on her neck, Eärwen walked the length of the patios and the gardens, and the crowd moved around her with a whispering of satin and samite, caught in the tide-swell of her presence.

She was an excellent ruler, Eärwen, better than Miriel or Indis, and the Noldor loved her well. She made them ashamed, and made them brave. She made Finarfin brave, if not quite brave enough to meet her sharp-seeing eyes directly as they spun.

 He had always wanted her to look at him with her cool mariner's eyes, her way of looking at hearts as if guessing at the storms that might overcome them, and be pleased. Ingoldo had wanted to make her laugh. He had looked at her, older and taller than him, and known in his heart that he would spend the long stretch of his existence on Arda trying to make Eärwen happy.

He had failed at it, of course. But it did not follow that he was free to cease attempting it. Finarfin did know his duty, and he was grateful to be bound to it as sternly as Earwën did. It would not do to lose sight of his surroundings, or himself, on a celebration or a battlefield.

They were midway through a circle dance when Earwën first nuzzled his loosening braid. Only for a moment, in the wild twirl of a two-stepping embrace - but Finarfin’s steps nearly faltered all the same. 

Then she drew back, her composure unchanged. Only the glint of her eyes gave away her mirth. If Finarfin had been younger and less kingly, he might have given into the luxury of nearly tripping once more without looking away, merely to feel his wife’s strong arms about him. 

He nearly tripped regardless, which was rather less forgivable in a king than it had been on a sweet-cheeked princeling. The violins rose, screeching a high chord; and Finarfin flinched, ears swirling back, mind flaring in distress. He could not quite stifle it - not when, for an instant, the sound of voices raised in merriment and stamping feet was so like an ambush, the orc-horns calling, the shrill laughter - 

Eärwen's grip on his hand tightened.

"You are in pain, my lord," said Eärwen, sweeping him smoothly back into the throng when he faltered with the new song's slowing tempo, and made to step back from his circle. "Be certain to follow my steps. Ere Tilion dips, we shall go walk. The night grows old, and you have not seen the rose gardens since your arrival. We have planted many new species, as Este advised: their perfume has a talent for easing dreams.”

As hints were, it was not subtle.

“I am terrible company tonight, I am afraid,” he excused. His head pounded, pounded; but he could not leave. He did not think it likely he should sleep soon - he had not slept well since returning to Amanyar. 

Eärwen's fingers, tangled about the ends of his ribbons, tugged his scalp sharply. Finarfin could not but shiver, caught in her arms and under her eyes, so subtly none could guess at the strength of it. 

His mouth quirked. He did enjoy whatever she would give, even the torment, the sharp edge that caught on their games of teasing. 

The night grows long, and there is no need for a king, Eärwen said, voice cool, eyes gleaming with their own fierce fire. So very present, powerful enough that when she spoke to his mind alone, all the world grew dim and quiet, muffled and diminished in comparison. And I have a wish to have him for myself. Ought we not enjoy my victory, Ingoldo, if there is any to be found?

Finarfin bent his head obligingly. Earwën's kiss touched his temple, this time. Like a benediction, like an enchantment, it eased the ache behind his eyes. 

The best treasure of the Noldor, all her own. Earwën had ever had her own idea of what counted as a victory.

A long campaign against Morgoth, and longer years of training with spear and sword before, and still Eärwen unlatched the graceful intent from his movements as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Finarfin had not thought it could be easy again.

The music was too loud, truly; even as it dipped, sweetened to a last bold drum-roll. Finarfin suspected Eärwen could hear the galloping of his heart underneath the lyres and cymbals, all the same. 

Not yet, Finarfin thought, with an urgency he could not articulate aloud. A moment - not yet.

The drums went still, and of course their sound was nothing at all like a battle call, in truth. Finarfin remained among the dancers long enough to hear their echoes fade. He could not go - not though all the blood in him called for sword, shield, spear, alarm and aimless fury. If he failed in this now, he might as well consign himself to a closed room, leave the kingdom to his wife and her ladies, retire to the secluded places in the mountains as his mother had, and his sister.

It was not true, nor a just test - but he felt it. He set his chin. It was only music - and Eärwen was here, unyielding. Her palm was stalwart against his back, keeping him upright.

Until there was a quiet moment between songs. Finarfin stepped back, mind and body. The world around them and beyond their hidden speech was bright, gleaming - voices, an harp being tuned. Less voices than there had been, before people started to disband, and none raised in alarm. He looked at them, his people after war, and in many faces he saw the same wariness; and in others only delight, distraction.

He breathed out. Eärwen tilted her head, studying him, with her deep considering judgement. Pay attention to me, do not look away. The old game. Finarfin had dreamed of Earwën looking at him just so, her eyes so bright. Beautiful as the night, and terrible enough to make a king brave with shame. 

“Come walk the gardens with me, husband,” the queen commanded, the third time and last time, not an offer nor an entreaty; and the hint of steel in her grip was enough for Finarfin to know himself at peace, and yield. 

[swanmaids]

5, 6 and 8 for finarfin/eärwen if you want :)

Of course!

5. Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

I imagine not. I think Finarfin is in general pretty conflict-avoidant (in terms of like interpersonal conflict rather than kicking balrog ass lol) and has quite a flighty response to conflict in general, so they try to avoid it. On the negative side, this can sometimes lead to anger going unexpressed, especially after Alqualonde, but I think they eventually come to work it out.

6. How do they make up/apologize after an argument?

I kind of picture one of them coming up to the other and just like silently putting their arms around them and they just sort of quietly hold each other for a bit.

8. What do they love most about the other? Why?

I think Earwen has a really sharp and intelligent sense of humour which always has Finarfin dying... this is especially useful during very boring beaurocratic aspects of kinging. Earwen likes how Finarfin is kind of an intense person - it means he's very fiercely loving towards her and their family.

[doodle-pops]

Think You Can Warm Me Up

[Elves and Cockwarming x reader]

Request: What elves do you think would like cock-warming? - anon

A/N: This was a lot of elves to think for since I've added more over the months gone by. Enjoy!!!

Warning: smut, cockwarming

More: Brat Taming

Loves it – sometimes when they’re too busy to have sex with you but you want to feel them, they’ll suggest you sit on their lap, only to feel them raising your body slightly to slide themselves into you. When you lift your hips to move, their hands will be planted firmly on your waist with a stern look on their faces warning you to stay still. They’ll keep their hands on your waist, using it to pull you closer to rest against their chest and hold you down. Some use it for punishment when your bratty side comes out. They’ll rile you up by making out with you, having you grind on them feeling as though you two are about to have sex, but then when you’re about to ride them, they’ll lean in to whisper, “Not so fast love, no moving, sit right there and stay still or I’ll leave you empty. You thought I’d just give in and give you what you wanted, my poor confused little one” Other times, they’d use it to literally warm themselves up. When you two are relaxing as such, they’d throw the suggestion out to you and once you agree, the two of you will just be lounging about with their cock buried in you, staying warm. There are times you’ve fallen asleep with them buried in you. “You feel so warm and tight love, stop shifting so much, just stay still. This feels good, now we can cuddle.”

MAEDHROS, Maglor, CELEBRIMBOR, FINGOLFIN, FINGON, Finarfin, FINROD, AEGNOR, GLORFINDEL, GALDOR, BELEG, Rog, Elrond

Hates it – the first time you suggest the act, they were down to try it, but once you sank your warm hole onto their cock, it was over for them. Their hands would immediately shoot out to grab your waist, urging you to move but you’ll simply push it away and lean into their chest informing them that you’re not supposed to move. “It’s called cockwarming for a reason. Now stay still. Don’t get mad, remember you agreed to this, so sit and enjoy it.” This was absolute torture for them, they couldn’t take it anymore. Knowing that if they moved their hips right then, you’d probably hop off and that wasn’t part of their plan. Waiting till you were settled in and comfortable, with ease, their hands would sneak around your waist holding you firmly to their chest and without any warning, begin thrusting into you. You’d admit that this was not how you planned the session to go but with the way the tip of their cock was brushing against your soft spot, your moans gave it away. Now whenever you suggest it to them, they’d smile at you saying that they’ll behave, only to abuse your heat as soon as you sink down on their cock. The longest they’ve ever lasted was five seconds. “If you really thought I’d sit through all that torture, you’re absolutely wrong. Now be a good girl/boy and enjoy my cock.”

FEANOR, CELEGORM, Curufin, Turgon, ARGON, ANGROD, EGALMOTH, ECTHELION, MAEGLIN, ELLADAN

Mixed feelings – one minute it’s torture for them the other it’s blissful. It just all depends on their mood not so much yours. If they’re tired and just want to be warmed or you want to feel them, they’d let you go ahead without interrupting you. They’d simply wrap their arms around you and pull you in closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and drifting off to sleep. Other times it’s when they’re busy doing paperwork and could do with a little relief. Letting you sit on their lap with the table hiding their cock buried deep in your heat, they’d let you lean into them so they could continue their work. “This feels good, didn’t think I’d be needing this, but after I’m finished here, I’d bend you over this table for a good fuck, hmm.” When you’re teasing them all day and acting up and then decide it’s time to kick it up a notch by making them feel you were about to ride them after your tedious torture only to sit still on their cock, now you’re just asking for it. They’d be grinding their teeth the entire time when you tell them not to move while pretending to do something important, informing them that when you’re finished then you two can go at it, they’re not going to listen, not when you were suffocating their cock. They wouldn’t care at that point, so say goodbye to whatever it was that you were doing. “Don’t you think this is a little too much love, don’t you think this has gone on for too long because I think so as well. How about we change that by having me fuck you, now.”

Maedhros, MAGLOR, CARANTHIR, Amrod, Fingolfin, FINGON, TURGON, FINARFIN, Finrod, AEGNOR, Glorfindel, GALDOR, Egalmoth, ROG, ERESTOR

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @lilmelily

[eri-pl]

Tengwar <3

It's the best thing Feanor made. Seriously. Nobody will murder you for using Tengwar. Nobody will hack your brain when you use Tengwar in the wrong moment. (The lamps are ok, but kinda meh, Tengwar is better)

Did you know, just did you know, that every consonant has a name, and the name is a noun, and some are really cool (and foreshadowing)? (chart and translations below the cut)

So, if you want a chart, here is a chart. And the names are (I don't have diacritics, so I just double the long vowels) (Quenya mode, with some historical notes from LotR appendix and elvish.org):

"Normal stuff Feanor had on his desk" row:

T tinco - metal

P parma - book

K calma - lamp (like those Feanor made? Or... like those Aule made)

Q quesse - feather (birds are important!)

"Things that keep you trapped" row:

ND ando - gate (like... the Door of Night?)

MB umbar - doom (doesn't need a comment...)

NG anga - iron (also, used in sword names, even for non-iron swords)

NGW (in TA changed to NW) ungwe - spider's web (foreshadowingsight on Feanor's part? :) )

"Mountain things???" row

S suule - spirit or breath (Manwe Sulimo... king of winds and stuff...) | TH thuule - spirit or breath, but I'm a Feanorian, or at least I'm a linguistics geek and love the phonetic scheme (me! but otoh it sounds dumb :( ), or I love the Teleri and/or Sindar, who use it as th (Finarfin, iirc).

F formen - north

H (h before t) harma (voiceless velar fricative phonetically /x/... I think. the sources are confusing. In TA mostly softened into a breath h.) - treasure (my precious Silmarills...) | aha (later renamed, idk when) - rage (my Silmarils! and, even more importantly, my father!)

HW (like "wh" in "why" especially the fancy British way of saying it where it's actyally h-w, not w-h) hwesta - breeze

"We need to name a row after places of articulation" row

NT anto - mouth (couldn't you think of a better name? I get it's a place-of-articulation row, but i don't like it anyway)

MP ampa - hook

NC anca - jaw

NQ unque - hole

"Things that Melkor likes" row:

N nuumen - west (Numenor...)

M malta - gold

NG (by TA: N) noldo - Noldo, as in type of Elf. Yes, it was initially Ngoldo. I mean, initially initially it was a gnome, so...

NW nwalme - tornment

"I have no idea but vaguely positive-metaphysical?..." row

R (pre-consonant or end-of-the-word R | non-vibrating r, whatever this means. My bet is that it's "r" as in Japanese --- position like "r", movement like "d") oore - heart (or: rising. Guess whose name includes this component. funny that it's the same word as heart, especially given that heart is also defined as conscience here)

V vala - power (duh.)

Y (? it has some history) [there was a consonant here]anna - gift (totally not made into a sus word by now...)

W/V (Initially W, by TA changed to V) wilya - air / lower sky (funny how those two names are next to one another. )

"Really, I think Feanor ran out of ideas for coherent name sets" row

R (vibrating, typpical "rrr") romen - east (the same sound being written with "East" and with a word alternatively translating to "heart" or part of Melkor's name --- I love it! Why? See my recent post. I love that. Call it a coincidence, but I love it)

RD arda - realm

L lambe - speech

LD alda - tree (!)

Now we are not in regular rows, so, the extra letters:

S silme - starlight (or... metaphysically important light in general? because guess what word is connected to this one. Also, funny how it's just after "tree"). It's always S, never TH.

(nuquerma is just "flipped" or something I guess)

Z aaze - day / sunlight (in Noldorin changed to Z - aare) | SS esse (Numenor and later, because they did not use the "z" sound, I think) - name

HY (Numenor and later: H) hywarmen - south

I yanta - bridge

U uure - heat

(doesn't have a sound, in Sindarin it's A) osse - terror (I guess he isn't a very nice Maia?)

H (voiceless h: /h/ not /x/; in TA replaced by harmen) halla - tall | gasdil - stop

(short wovel carrier) telco - stem

(long carrier) aara - dawn

The Tengwa names after directions are also used as marks in the compass (like we use NSWE) And snarky comments aside, I love the schema and how the names connect into many interesting and often Silm-events-related patterns. I love how each (almost) row is named after a set of similar things.

I'm not an expert, and if I made some mistakes, I'll be grateful for corrections.

[imclimbingthestairsoforthanc]

Okay! Thank you! 😭

I’d really like to know how finrod acts when hes in love with reader or has a massive crush on reader, like Headcanons for that situation or maybe like a fic where he gets all happy and giddy when reader is in the room, how he always tries to stick by readers side and always tries to spend more time with them, always praising them, slowly confessing his love in different ways.. (not nsfw!)

Thats all!

Thank you! (Again)!😭💖💖

*I rly hope this made sense cuz English isn’t my first language*

makes perfect sense and I love this request. its my first time writing Finrod and honestly Im so in love right now. this is just part one but there will be a part two coming :) i hope you like it

By The Sea - Finrod x Reader (Pt. 1)

Finrod finds more than he expected when taking a long holiday to his mothers home in Alqualondë.

A/N: for certain ..... purposes ..... making finrod do they same thing I do when im nervous, i went ahead and gave him his fathers rings

Finrod wanted to be sure that his name was at the top of the list to petition for the new project you proposed to be approved. He wasn’t quite sure exactly what the project was; all he knew was that it had something to do with ship construction and the royal family, and if his name in black ink was enough to keep you around, then write away he would.

It did not, in fact, keep you around. Finrod wasn’t sure why he thought it would. You were, after all, an architect, and visits to the royal court in the great hall were likely few and far between. After about a week and a half since the proposal–when he first was enamored with you, Finrod decided that he needed to do something.

“I have never heard a bigger lie,” said Artanis coolly.

Finrod shrugged. “It’s the truth,” he said, “They never gave directions to the worksite.”

Artanis sighed. “Why do you need to know anyways?”

“I have been tasked with checking up on the progress for the foundations of the project.”

Artanis cut her eyes. She didn’t believe him, but directed him to the worksite nonetheless.

Finrod went north for hours upon hours, it seemed; it was not even one hour. He could hear the wind cut through the fabric of the tents and the waves crash onto the rocky shores. The closer he got, the harder it was for him to think of something to say to you. He could call out your name, but then decided that would be too casual. Besides, you might think it strange that he held on so dearly to your name after a meeting so brief one couldn’t even call it a real meeting. He could introduce himself, but what would he say after that? 

“Hello,” came a rich voice, and Finrod realized that deep in his thoughts he stumbled right upon you.

His clothes felt hot and his ring felt tight around his finger. He wondered if his hair had turned to frizz, as it tended to do with all the sea salt in the air. It was all he could do not to stutter.

“Hello,” he replied, “I am Finrod of the house of Finarfin.”

A moment passed.

“I know who you are,” you said. He wondered if you meant to be so harsh until you spoke again, voice softened, “What can I help you with?”

Finrod swallowed. “I have been tasked with checking on the progress on the foundations of the project,” he said. The lie barely slipped through his teeth.

“Really?” you said with a polite smile and twitching eyebrows that betrayed your confusion to the golden-haired prince, “They sent someone out two days ago.”

“Ahh,” Finrod said quietly, “Well there must have been some confusion.” 

“I see.”

The silence was tangible. You swallowed. You remembered who he was–Findaráto Ingoldo, firstborn of the crown prince of the Falmari–how could you forget? You’d been dreaming of him since you’d seen him last Tuesday, but now that he was here, all those clever, witty things you said to him as you dreamed of meeting properly seemed to have left you.

Finrod watched your eyes dance to the scene behind him–when they were not glued to the opening of his shirt collar–and wondered what you were thinking about. It was probably the project at hand; but could it be him, as little as you were acquainted? Finrod had taken everything, however little it may be, you gave him when he saw you first last Tuesday and ran with it. You had not left his thoughts. 

It occurred to him after a moment of awkward staring that maybe the conversation was over–the silence had gone on awkwardly long. He tried to think of something–anything–to say. Nothing came.

“Well, then,” he said, “I’d better get going. I’ll leave you to it; again I apologize for the confusion. I hope I have not disturbed your work.”

He didn’t want to leave.

“Not at all,” you said, too quickly for your liking, “You can stay as long as you like.”

You didn’t want him to leave. 

He gave you a nod, and you cutsied before he turned to go. You turned back to your workbench, half disappointed that he left so soon and half excited that he came. You let out a shaky breath.

“In that case,” came the voice that you hopelessly couldn’t get enough of, “You wouldn’t mind if I stayed, would you? I would very much like to see the ‘hands-on’ aspect of this process.” 

You turned and tried to hide the excitement in your eyes. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Finrod blushed. You drank in the sight. If the pink that spread across his cheeks was the last thing you ever saw, you’d be content.

***

“He is perfect in every way,” you said to Earwen, who, to your surprise, decided to take the weaving of the sails upon herself. You hadn’t expected the daughter of the king to engage so closely with the project, but, you supposed, if it was her talent and passion, so why not? 

“I cannot get enough of him. I hope he never stops visiting me.”

Earwen smiled, “Will he visit for the celebration?”

“Of course, Your Highness” you said confidently, “He is the son of the crown prince! He wouldn’t miss it.”

Finrod was royalty, yes, but deep down you knew he’d come even if he wasn’t. Months of sitting in silence with two pairs of feet dangling in the salty water and choosing cold bread over a hearty dinner fit for a prince told you that even if you were dismissed from the project and cast to the jagged cliffs and treacherous temperament of the sea to the north, Finrod would come for you.

The door creaked open to reveal none other than Finrod himself.

“Fi–my prince,” you said politely, forgoing first-name use in mind of the royalty next to you.

Finrod didn’t seem to care. “There you are!” He said, “I have been looking for you. The eggs on the rocks by the lower dock have hatched!”

“Have they?”

“Yes,” he said, “And they have the loveliest silver down. Will you be free after six?”

Your hands stopped their movement, “I think so, but I–”

Finrod took your hand, as he always did when departing, and planted a hasty kiss on it, “Great. I will meet you then. You must see them!”

He ran out before you could answer. You giggled at his excitability and looked over to Earwen.

“Is that him?”

You smiled sheepishly and looked away.

“Yes,” you said. If you saw the smirk that played at her lips you would have seen that she knew more than she let on. “Absolutely perfect.”

[cilil]

❝ He remembers that day all too well, of course. He remembers visiting the bustling port of Alqualondë together with his brothers, excusing himself when they started arguing in the evening and sitting down at the dock to cool his feet in the water and read. He remembers being caught off-guard by the swift and surprisingly silent arrival of the Alquilda, the ship he now knows to be one of the most famous and infamous, feared and revered ships that sail the oceans of Arda. He remembers Eärwen calling out to him, mistaking him for a sailor or dockworker, and telling him to catch the mooring line, which he caught with his face instead of his hands because he kept staring at her. ❞

𓊝 Characters/pairing: Finarfin x Eärwen, Finrod, Angrod, Aegnor, Galadriel 𓊝 Synopsis: Finarfin tells his children how he fell in love with their mother, the (in)famous pirate captain Eärwen 𓊝 Warnings: / 𓊝 Oneshot (~1.8k words)

AN: I have @camille-lachenille to thank for inspiring this one. Also fair warning, there isn't any on-screen pirate stuff happening, I just had this cute little scenario of house hubby Finarfin telling his kids about their cool pirate mom in mind and had to write about it ^^

"Atya?" 

"Yes, Artanis?" 

She looks up at him with wide eyes, alight with the same sort of inquisitive curiosity Arafinwë has come to know so well. Behind her stand her older brothers, quiet but equally eager to witness the conversation unfold. 

He can tell that they have been talking among themselves and wonders if his boys put their sister up to whatever she is going to ask next. 

Artanis wastes no more time. "Can you tell me about Emya again? Please?" 

Arafinwë is careful not to let his smile falter for even a split second, nods and closes the book he has been reading. It's not that he doesn't enjoy talking about his beloved Eärwen — he could do so for days, and his brothers would surely tease him for it if they didn't feel similarly about their wives — but he knows their children miss her as much as he does and at times feels guilty that stories are all he has to offer. 

For the moment, at least. 

As soon as he places his book on the nearest table, Artanis climbs on his lap as if to take her due place on her personal throne. Findaráto, Angaráto and Aikanáro take it as their cue to follow, making themselves comfortable on the armrests of his armchair and at his feet. Arafinwë takes a moment to look at them, admiring their small, young faces, and strokes Artanis' hair absentmindedly. Time and time again he marvels at how lovely, smart and brave they are, sees their mother's grace and fire within them. 

I haven't even begun talking and I'm already getting sentimental, he silently chastises himself. 

Four pairs of eyes look up at him expectantly. Arafinwë clears his throat. "Is there any specific story you would like to hear?" 

Findaráto shakes his head, then rests his chin on his knee. Angaráto and Aikanáro exchange a glance before they do the same. Artanis, however, nods without hesitation. "Yes, please tell us about the first time you met Emya." 

Arafinwë's smile brightens. It's one of her favourites, he knows, and something tells him that she's already looking forward to sweeping an unsuspecting nér or nís off their feet as well one day. 

He remembers that day all too well, of course. He remembers visiting the bustling port of Alqualondë together with his brothers, excusing himself when they started arguing in the evening and sitting down at the dock to cool his feet in the water and read. He remembers being caught off-guard by the swift and surprisingly silent arrival of the Alquilda, the ship he now knows to be one of the most famous and infamous, feared and revered ships that sail the oceans of Arda. He remembers Eärwen calling out to him, mistaking him for a sailor or dockworker, and telling him to catch the mooring line, which he caught with his face instead of his hands because he kept staring at her. 

Eärwen never let him live it down, and neither would Artanis if she knew. 

"Years ago, your mother was already known as Lady Eärwen the swashbuckling swan-maiden, while I was but a young prince," Arafinwë begins his tale. "It was on a summer evening that I met her at the docks of Alqualondë. The sea was calm, and the Alquilda bound for the shores of home. Standing atop its bow and underneath swift sails, hair billowing in the wind, was Lady Eärwen and she came upon me as swiftly as upon her enemies." 

"It must have been meant to be, that she just happened to toss me a mooring line like a thread of fate, binding us together in spite of whichever tides may come. Your uncles say I was quite literally roped into the tale of a pirate princess and they may well be right — I certainly don't mind." 

Findaráto rolls his eyes at the last sentence, but can't suppress a grin. Artanis meanwhile takes no offence to her father's narration, hanging on his every word like a tiny kraken clutching a stray boat. 

"I was immediately fascinated by her, bewitched as if I had met a siren," Arafinwë continues, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Truth to be told, he isn't even exaggerating by much — his infatuation was immediate and strong. "Forgetting all about my feuding brothers, I embarked on my most daring adventure as of yet: I asked Lady Eärwen if she would join me for a drink at her favourite local tavern. Though perhaps I should rather say it was I who joined her, given that, in my haste, I had forgotten that I was woefully unfamiliar with our surroundings." 

"We talked and laughed and drank until the early morning hours, and it was the loveliest night I had ever had. It pained me to say goodbye to her at sunrise, but Atar was getting worried about my whereabouts and Ammë had begun sending out servants in search of me after Fëanáro and Nolofinwë mentioned they hadn't seen me since the previous day." 

"Lady Eärwen and I met again the next day and the day after and the day after that too, every day she stayed in Alqualondë. Yet in time all good things must come to an end, and she had to return to the sea eventually — something she had warned me about in the very beginning, but I didn't mind then and don't mind now. When we parted at the docks, she promised me that we would meet again and that she would send for me when the time came. To show me that she meant it, she gave me this–"

Arafinwë reaches for the necklace he always wears, a fine silver chain with a little swan pendant made of mother-of-pearl. The children have seen it before of course, but at least for little Artanis this moment never gets boring. 

"I returned to Tirion, slightly heartbroken but mostly hopeful, and I had faith that my lady would keep her word, especially now that her little swan kept me company. Every day I thought of her, every night I dreamed of her. To prepare for her return, I asked Fëanáro to help me make a gift for Lady Eärwen as well. It too would be a swan pendant, that much was clear, but we spent much time pondering which material would be best. In the end we settled on amber; not only to match the colours I had chosen for my future house, but also because at times small things become encased in amber, fleeting moments captured and preserved forever, like the feelings I had for her." 

It is at this point that the boys audibly groan, but Artanis shoots her brothers an angry glare. "Let Atya be in love! It's not like he can help it!" 

"Thank you, my little princess," Arafinwë laughs and places a small kiss on her parting. 

Artanis appears to appreciate the gesture, but has her mind on other things. "I want to hear how Emya came back to you." 

"Of course." He hurries to focus on the story once more. "Well, one day many months later, I found a seagull sitting on my windowsill, carrying a letter in its beak. I was overjoyed to find that it had been written by none other than Lady Eärwen, telling me that the Alquilda was once again heading for Alqualondë and that she would love to see me there. Without hesitation, I packed my things, borrowed the fastest horse I could find from Atar's stable and rode out to meet her, speeding across the plains of Valinor as if the hunters of Oromë were after me. And indeed, she was there when I arrived. She was waiting for me at the docks where we had first met." 

Arafinwë smiles wistfully. "Everything was exactly as it had been, we picked up where we had left off. And as for how it went on... well, the rest is history." 

He looks at his children, the greatest and proudest achievement of his and Eärwen's union. They sit in contemplative silence, their young minds pondering the story they heard before yet never understood in its entirety and wouldn't for some time, not until they grow up and fall in love themselves. 

Artanis' eyes are glowing with joy and excitement, and she claps her little hands. Arafinwë knows she has almost no memory of her mother, so these stories mean a lot to her. He takes her into his arms, also gathering her brothers, and they remain like this for a while. 

When he and Eärwen got married and decided to have a family, they knew already that her sea-longing would come back in time and sunder them for a while. Arafinwë was ready for it; before proposing, he asked her father for her hand, and Olwë took him aside to ask if he knew of his daughter's origins. She had told him of course — that her mother was a Maia who took the shape of swans and other sea-birds and couldn't live without the air and sea and that she, Eärwen, had become who she was because she had been beset by the same longing. 

Olwë confided in him, telling him how he had raised his children alone when she was absent, then asking again if he still wished to marry Eärwen. Arafinwë said yes. He meant it then just as he means it now, and his only regret is that their younger children barely remember their mother. 

Eärwen didn't take her decision to return to the sea lightly, of course. She spent years living with Arafinwë in Valinor while the Alquilda rested in the port of Alqualondë, lovingly maintained by her crew. Yet after their fourth child was born, she slowly felt the sea-longing return, and he was ready to keep his promise to let her go, as he had once said to her as part of his marriage vows. He had known all along what it meant and he would neither see her suffer nor go back on his word, he had sworn to himself. 

Every few weeks or months, birds from all over Arda arrive at his house and bring letters from Eärwen, detailing her adventures. Arafinwë reads all of them to their children and tells them everything he knows about the birds and the lands she's visiting. One day, when they're all old enough, they'll sail together, she promised him on the day she left. 

At times he wonders if the sea-longing will come for their children too one day. He is a prince, a politician and a diplomat, hardly fit to be a pirate or a sailor, but he will follow his family across the seas of Arda if he has to. At least, as Arafinwë often told Eärwen in jest, he knows how to use a sword and is the youngest of his father's house, unlikely to be crowned king any time soon, if ever. 

And until the sea calls for the Elflings he's now lovingly cradling in his arms, they are safe at home with him. 

Etymology: Alquilda - silent/hushed swan - referring to the silent swiftness of the ship, as well as being a pun on mute swan (the species) which are known for being monogamous and using the same nest every year

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @numenhore @urwendii

[that-angry-noldo]

war of wrath tumblr dashboard simulator lets go

🦚nosheepherd Follow

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE WEST HAS SENT THEIR AID

🐈meowcat Follow

screaming op we've literally been involved in a full scale war for 10 years already?? do you live under a rock or 😭

🦚nosheepherd Follow

bestie if you think i have left my hiding in the last 20 years for longer than 15 minutes you vastly overestimate my courage 😭 #at least they have food?? #also yes im alive lol sorry for not posting for. checks notes. last 30 years? #i LITERALLY live under a rock #hello beloved mutuals i missed you

(239 notes)

🥔thatonesinda Mutuals

does anyone have any cooking tips for when you have literally zero food in the house lol? we've been managing well but our home was raided a few days ago (we're all well thankfully) and well. everything edible is gone #kinda panicking over here 😬😬 #we'll probably last for a while but im afraid we'll have to leave soon #ive heard some of our armies are going nearby i think the best decision will be to stick to them #sigh. all of this would be so much easier if parents were around #lara talks #mutuals does anyone have a couch me and my siblings can crash at lol

(5 notes)

🏹herothevaliant Mutuals

she jumped on my sword til i

🏹herothevaliant

fuck

🏹herothevaliant

guys this is so embarassing my commander was literally staying behind me while i was typing. i was on duty im so fucked

🏹herothevaliant

STOP REBLOGGING THIS MY CAPTAIN IS ON THIS WEBSITE IF THEY SEE THIS I SWEAR TO ERU

🌌forestbranch Follow

hey 🙂

🏹herothevaliant

FUCK #WHY THE FUCK ARE ELVES SO QUIET #AAAAAH #please don't fire me

(11.2k notes)

For you!

🏺coolshitifound

🖼️ [image]

[Image ID: Lord Eönwë during the battle. He is pictured mid-swing, surrounded by numerous foes, all with varying levels of terror upon their faces. Lord Eönwë is covered in blood with a scowl on his face. He is swinging his greatsword at the nearest enemy, who wears a terrified expression. End Image ID]

🧉starspraylatte Follow

i think i hauve black death #🥵🥵🥵 #not very religious but y'know what #i would get on my knees for him

(58 notes)

🌠wanderingstranger Following

. #fucking hell #i'm so fucking sick #attended a mutual's funeral today #and a close irl friend is gone without trace #and i'm not sure whether it's a comfort that i didn't feel her die #fuck #this is so unfair #im so fucking sick of this war #and each day it's harder to believe this will ever be over #im not sure for how much longer i can go on #i have a bow #maybe i should join someone on the battlefield #at least death will find me not by my own hand #vent #to delete

(4 notes)

Because you follow #lord eönwë

🌺wistfuldaydreamer Follow

With You, Forever

Pairings: Lord Eönwë x Reader

Warnings: RPF, discussion of death, sadness, heartbreak

Summary: After narrowly evading death on the battlefield, you face your lover.

A/N: sorry for not updating! my family was on a run from goblin raiders, didn't have much time for writing lmao 🥲 i hope you enjoy!

Keep Reading

#lord eönwë #lord eönwë x reader #host of the west x reader #rpf #lord eönwë fanfiction #lord eönwë imagine

(138 notes)

🦀crabinthetree Mutuals

can't believe y'all are thirsting over those amanyar losers while our lord and saviour king ereinion gil-galad and our god and father lord círdan the shipwright are LITERALLY RIGHT THERE #fucking disappointed in y'all #1k #5k #10k #keep reblogging this don't be cowards

(12.4k notes)

⚫rosemary-in-the-wild-deactivated-0134563

no but why are king finarfin and manwë's herald kinda 😳😳😳 like am i the only one sensing some er strong male friendship going on orrrrrrr

🪵treecutter Follow

NO WAY THEY GOT DEACTIVATED TWO HOURS AFTER MAKING THIS POST

🌿olive-in-the-wild Following

they hated me because i was telling the truth 😔

🍆guyhaver Follow

people having "orcs dni" in their bio is so insensitive. like not only there are orcs who activelly suffer under lord melkor's rule but there are also those who fight on the side of the free people like wtf.

🍠friedtentacles Follow

i agree op but also why is it always orcs lol. like no one is putting werewolves ghouls vampires and other creatures of night on their lists lmao

🪭birdinbirch Follow

updating my dni list brb 🙂

🍆guyhaver Follow

@Staff why the FUCK is behavior like this allowed on this site. i swear to almighty #blocked and reported #istg one day i will quit this website #mutuals hold my hands we'll get through it together

(34 notes)

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine being in love with Aegnor but him being in love with someone else

You would do anything to ensure his happiness, including watching him love someone else.

Requested by Anon

Hello. Can you please write something about Aegnor x female Elf Reader with an angsty start and a happy ending? Please 🛐💕💕💕💕

Warnings: pining, social awkwardness, mentions of the kin slaying, crossing of Helcaraxe, death, angst, war, unrequited love, the Sudden Flames, death of characters, wandering alone, eventual return to the undying lands, reunion, and a half-happy ending?

(I'm sorry if this is not the one you had in mind, but this is all my mind would come up with. Also, this might have been done a bit messily. I had more trouble with the inspiration than I thought. )

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

- You had known Aegnor for most of your life. Part of you almost wished you had never met him that day, as it might have spared you a lot of pain. However, the other part wouldn't have changed it for the world.

- You first met him when you were children. 

- You were an awkward quiet kid. You did not know how to make many friends and you kinda hated that about yourself. You were the total opposite of what a proud Noldor should be. 

- Then you met Aegnor at a social gathering. 

- It was an accidental meeting. Your parents had forced you to accompany them to a social gathering held outdoors in a garden. You brought a book with you, intending to avoid socializing, and found a quiet place to read, away from the others.

- You were engrossed with your book, but then you heard sounds coming from the bush beside you, then another elfling jumped through, dumping into you. 

- It was awkward as you both stared at each other in shock. You became more embarrassed when you recognized him as Aegnor, one of Prince Finarfin’s sons. 

- He quickly apologized and giggled, asking you to be quiet because he was playing hide and seek with his siblings and cousins.

- You kept quiet, but you two were quickly found by one of his cousins, Fingon. 

- They asked you why you were there alone, and you were too embarrassed to tell them. They then asked if you wanted to join them in their game. 

- You asked if it would be weird for you to join, but Aegnor did not care and pulled you along. 

- Perhaps that was the moment you fell in love with him. 

- You had fun with them while you played, even proved yourself good at hiding. 

- When it was time for you to leave, you almost didn’t want to go. Your parents looked surprised when you returned to them with Aegnor and bid him farewell. They teased you for it and were delighted that you were actually playing with someone. 

- You did not like their teasing and refused to tell them about it.  

- You kinda regretted not asking if you could see him again when the years passed, but accepted it was just a one-time thing and tried to forget it. 

- Until the day arrived when you would become one of lord Tulkas’s students and start your warrior training. You met Aegnor again with his brother. 

- He had grown taller and his hair shone gold like the leaves of Laurelin. When he saw you, he recognized you immediately. He did not hesitate to come and greet you like you two were old friends. 

- You became shy around him again but did not try to run away and catch up to him. 

- The training day went quickly with him around. And when you had trouble finding a sparring partner, he agreed to be your partner. 

- You spent a lot of time together sparring. You eventually confessed to him that you didn’t have a lot of friends because you were shy. 

- He then said he was more than willing to become your friend and that's how you then became friends. 

- You became eager to see him during training, getting to know each other and even befriending his brother Angrod. 

- You even started seeing him outside the training as he brought you along and wanted to help you open up and get friends for yourself. You followed him around like a duck, as it felt easy for him to lead and you to follow. 

- You got along with his cousins and even became odd friends with his sister, Galadriel. You were both the quiet type, but you got along well and understood each other without saying much. That baffled her brothers and they thought you two became good friends enough to use Osawne, which was not the case. 

- You grew together with them, and perhaps that’s how your crush on him only grew. 

- You both became great fighters under lord Tulkas’ teachings. You two were perhaps his best students. However, Aegnor was slightly better than you. He grew taller and physically stronger, beating you in each sparring match. 

- You sometimes managed to beat him as you were swifter in feet. 

- He grew up to be a passionate elf, even though he sometimes got into trouble with his cousins from Prince Feanor’s house. 

- Thanks to him, you managed to become more social and make more friends than try to hide away from everything. You still disliked social gatherings but managed to become more tolerant toward them. 

- You and Aegnor were slight opposites as he was passionate and wild, while you were calm and cool. 

- When you both grew up, you began to take notice of your crush on him but held them back since he most likely only saw you as a friend. 

- It was not hard to hide them from him since he was pretty oblivious, but his sister was the only one you couldn’t hide your feelings from. 

- You told her about your feelings for her brother, and she was supportive and even tried to encourage you to go with them. However, you did not want to risk your friendship with Aegnor, so you never did. 

- You were also only from a lower noble class while he was a prince, so to you, he was beyond your league. 

- You had become close friends with Fingon and Aegnor’s older brother Finrod as you had gotten pulled into their shenanigans. You cared for them and often sought advice from Finrod. He had unintentionally become an older brother figure to you. 

- However, after such a long peaceful life in Aman. Things began to go wrong when the Valars released Melkor from his captivity. 

- The fallen Vala managed to reap chaos and mistrust as Feanor had become more hostile toward his half-brothers and even pulled a sword on Fingolfin’s neck. 

- The Valars punished Prince Feanor and banished him temporarily from Tirion. 

- It managed to calm things down for some time, but it did not end the unrest as Melkor was still allowed to walk free. 

- Then worst happened when Feanor was summoned back, and Melkor destroyed the two trees, sending Aman into darkness. 

- Feanor went mad and attacked the Teleri in Alqualonde to steal their ships. You were there to defend the Teleri with Aegnor and his siblings as they tried to protect the Teleri, but the battle had come to a devastating end and the port was filled with death. 

- What was even worse, even you, and those who tried to defend the Teleri were doomed and banished from Aman. 

- Feanor had then sailed to Middle Earth with his sons and host and burned the boats, forcing Fingolfin and the rest of you to cross Helcaraxe. 

- You and your family were loyal to Fingolfin, and for your friendship with Aegnor, you left with them too. 

- The journey was cruel as many lost their lives to the cold and the ice, including some people from your family. 

- Aegnor helped you to get through and comfort you through the loss. You were grateful for it and through many grueling days, you all managed to reach Middle Earth. 

- Things in Beleriand were no better. 

- Feanor had lost his life at the hands of Balrogs, his eldest son was captured by the enemy, and the Noldor were divided by those led by Fingolgin and those who followed the sons of Feanor. 

- You stayed by Aegnor’s side and eventually, things calmed down when Fingon went to rescue Maedhros from the enemy, and the latter relinquished the title of high king to Fingolfin. You did not support the sons of Feanor for their actions, but you felt respect for the eldest son for his decision since it allowed the unrest to die down. 

- Aegnor grew to despise them for their actions and felt slightly betrayed that Fingon would decide to save one of the kin slayers. Luckily, you managed to talk to him and the two retained their friendship over the years. 

- You stayed close to Aegnor so you could offer him your blade when needed, and then you watched how he fell in love with a human woman named Andreth. 

- Your heart broke at the sight, but when he looked happy with her, you felt happy for him too. You could not even blame him. You met Andreth, and she was a kind and wise woman from her people. You could even say that you loved her dearly too. You could not be mad at her for having Aegnor’s heart and it made you sad that the two couldn’t be together due to the rule of not marrying during war. 

- To avoid putting yourself in their way, you try to focus on other things and distance yourself from the pair’s happiness. 

- You were then approached by Finrod, who was against the relationship. He was a fond friend to the race of men, but in his mind, an elf and a human couldn't be together due to the mortality of humans.

- You actually defended Aegnor’s and Andreth’s relationship. He was not wrong that their fates would be different and that war did not allow marriages, but you believed they should be allowed to be happy while they still had time together. 

- Finrod was surprised by your reasoning and then asked about your feelings for Aegnor. He had been aware of them the whole time. He also asked what you would do since Aegnor will most likely never know love again after Andreth is gone or leave the halls of Mandos if he dies so he could wait for her return. 

- You answered even though you loved him, you cared about his happiness more than your own. If that is what Aegnor wished then you will not oppose it. 

- Finrod felt saddened for you but respected your decision. 

- Then the horrible tragedy struct when Morgoth released the flames from Thangorodrim and orcs flooded Dorthonion. You fought all you could, but you then had to witness Aegnor’s and his brother’s death. Unable to do anything. 

- You were filled with rage and started killing all the orcs you could. Unfortunately, there were too many of them, and you passed out from exhaustion. 

- However, instead of dying or finding yourself captured. You woke up beneath some hubris and dug your way out. 

- You witnessed the devastation left by the orcs and then you were found by Andreth, who was glad to see you alive. 

- You both mourned Aegnor’s death and tried to bury him and his brother as best as you two could since the orcs did not spare mangling their bodies beyond recognition. 

- You then stayed with Andreth in her home, mourning and contemplating everything that had happened. Andreth had been aware of your love toward Aegnor, and then you two comforted each other. 

- You stayed with her until the end of her days, as Aegnor was not able to do so, and you felt your heart break for her too. You did not know what else to do now that they both were gone, but you then decided to return to those who were still alive. 

- You were welcomed by Finrod, who was surprised yet glad to find you alive since the destruction of Dorthonion. He allowed you to stay in Nargothrond until many years later, when it was destroyed by Glaurung, forcing you to go on the run.

- You lost many things over the years. By luck, you managed to reunite with your friend Galadriel and stay with her till the war of wrath. 

- Since some of you were granted a pardon to return to Aman, you decided to sail and be reunited with your family. 

- Many years later, you were reunited with Finrod, then surprisingly with Aegnor, who you believed would never return after Andreth’s death. 

- You both spoke about the things that had happened and your feelings. 

- You both together mourned Andreth and perhaps in hopes you both would be waiting for her. You found peace and happiness with each other again despite the odds.

[lovefairymina]

Y/N wanting to confess to Finarfin, but instead trips over her two feet and crashes into Finarfin, falling on top of him. Their faces inches apart from each other, lips almost touching.

His hands immediately found their way around your waist to secure your body against his, anything to prevent injury. The moment his back collided with the floor and he settled, he looked up and noticed how close—too close—their lips were. Blushing, he sucked in his lips, resisting the urge to kiss you. “Er, hi. I was uh, now think about you. Nice of you to drop in!”

[witchofhimring]

To You Who Is Lost (chapter.2 teaser)

You had numerous friends as a child. As they bloomed into adulthood they developed skills that won them acclaim. Only what could they say about you? As a young child you were called árë, for there was light and warmth wherever you went. While your friends were creating creations of renowned you flittered around. Dancing like light upon the land they heaped praise upon you. It was why you wore daisies as they represented everything a maiden should be. Still, there was a widening emptiness in you. What was there to achieve with your gift? None had abused you for it and yet nothing could banish such feelings.

[searchingforserendipity25]

4, 29, 30 and 37 for finarfin/eärwen :3

thank you @that-angry-noldo! i love these two hehe

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

they both have a Thing over being the first to reach out - in finarfin's case, due to the implied vulnerability, being seen wanting, not wanting to press on people's boundaries and public dignity by making it clear he notices they might need/want affection (he is, it must be said, so Messed Up).

he does give excellent hugs, however, and enjoys physical comfort tremendously - has very intense feelings about the lightest touch, and makes certain his children never feel they cannot expect affection from him. great at the traditional kingly brow kisses!

eärwen does not initiate physical affection very often, simply because she is not very inclined to touching at all. has a very strong osanwe sense, so her awareness of the world leads to a lot of sensitivity to the natural elements around her - the sea, the wind, the birds, stones and grains of sand and sounds, and people as well. which does however mean she tends to know what people are feeling, and will reach out, when finarfin needs it, but mostly through their mental connection. it's go big or go home with her! spiritual bonding or nothing.

she does not enjoy hand-holding, is worse than ambivalent about hugging 90% of the time, but gives excellent fleeting touches - a touch to the shoulder, a quick, wonderful hand squeeze, or a quick kiss. enjoys giving verbal affirmations a lot more, and is very good at finding the perfect thing at the right time.

and finarfin will be brave, for her. a lot of their marriage was based on knowing each other's cues, and the tight-knit feeling of knowing when to step up and offer a touch or an affirming word. they have to relearn a lot of boundaries, After.

29. Describe their nighttime routine.

like most alqualonde teleri, eärwen's life rhythm is oriented by the tides, and not the far light of the Two Trees. this does mean she is only of the most awake people in tirion for the first years of her rule. their nighttime routine mostly consists of political plotting over a game of strategy.

they do not sleep much, in those days. as the nights grows longer and neither of them can sleep, they make their way to the old ivory-and-satinwood board. this generally means either the chatting part of the conversation becomes quite silly and gossipy, or their Elf Chess games turn into a fun, bloodless way to relieve thwarted - well, thwarted everything.

ruthless, silent chess games with underlying tensions is how most of the first centuries of that rule go, in terms of intimacy (finarfin is not allowed to play badly so his wife can have the win. in any other contest, he can yield; but the game is the only board where they can be less than a united faction, and they both take a not-very-nice enjoyment out of it in that time).

they unbraid each other's hair, when things are good, and wash their face of paint side by side! it's very sweet.

30. What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

eärwen: endearments, asking about people's needs/desire/generally checking in, conversation/correspondence. making people laugh.

finarfin: touch, endearments, arranging quiet time for/with someone else, shared activities and long-term projects, predicting small gestures to help and ease their life.

they tend to mesh well together! eärwen very much enjoys being the focus of finarfin's love! they are friends! he is very devoted, very interested in everything she has to say, or thinks, very loyal to her interests on nearly all points (ironically). does a great deal to be underestimated as a prince and cheerfully abuse the liberties of the youngest son, but he's very competent and cunning, and they both take a big delight from how much the other admires them and how much they admire each other.

eärwen is a project-oriented person, and making sure to give people some of her time is something that means a lot to her, and to finarfin, who loves to simply hang out with his favourite people and does not always feel as if he has a right/benefits anyone with his company on a personal, private basis.

she tend to be very aware of her own feelings , and its a kind of radical openness that finarfin finds very refreshing. they are able to confide in each other, air complaints, be irreverent and honest in a way that they cannot often be with anyone else. and to be consistent about it! when they're Good, they are very good for and to each other.

37. Who’s more emotionally sensitive/cries more often?

finarfin! he's a big cries, and cries with a lot of feeling. eärwen swallows her tears and usually becomes angry instead, which tends to make crying quite intense, catharsis-wise.

[elficially-done-with-life]

My Masterlist

Only write for the Tolkien Fandom so far (all x reader stories)

Every work with nsfw content is marked with *

Fëanorians

Fëanor:

My Little Fire

Maedhros:

A Hug To Make You Whole Again

Just a Shadow of myself

Celegorm:

Soft Celegorm hc

Soft Celegorm hc pt. 2

Soft Celegorm hc pt. 3

Soft Celegorm nsfw hc

A Quiet Afternoon

Needing Your Touch*

Caranthir:

You Are Beautiful To Me

Let Me Help

Dating Caranthir after his return to Valinor hc

Amrod:

Will You Stay Forever?

Celebrimbor:

Trust

Painful Partings

Helping Celebrimbor heal in Valinor hc

Ñolofinwëans

Aredhel:

Under the Trees

Meeting Aredhel in Valinor hc

SFW Alphabet - Aredhel

Argon:

Forever Together

Idril:

Hope

Idril helping you feel at home in Gondolin hc

Maeglin:

Not Safe Anymore

The Light of the Stars

Eärendil:

SFW Alphabet - Eärendil

Arafinwëans

Finarfin:

Not Useless

Under the Stars

On A Warm Summer Evening*

Being married to Finarfin hc

Finarfin with an insecure Reader hc

The Lords of Gondolin

Rog:

After all these years

In Chains And Yet Free

The Calm After The Storm

The Elves of Rivendell

Elrond:

Elrond with a shy apprentice reader hc

Elrohir:

Take Me Dancing

Lindir:

A Magical First Kiss

I Need You Close*

Caring For You*

Exhausted

Always Beautiful

Dating Lindir hc

Glorfindel:

The only one who is beautiful to me

Erestor:

Safe Place

Celebrían:

Flowers and Kisses

Ainur/Valar

Yavanna:

Relax*

Others

Lalwen:

Enough

The Hobbit

Bofur:

Not Alone In This Cold Night

LOTR

Haldir:

Stay Safe

Hundred Years Ago

Faramir:

Faramir trying to tell you he is in love with you

Boromir:

You Are Important

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Request Rules

My requests are open at the moment!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

My art blog: @a-happy-artist

Interactive blog: @lovelylovebug

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Silm September 2024

September is a busy month for me, and I'll be on holiday...

BUT, for what it's worth, I'll try to get a few of these in!

Fire - Silvergifting - Drabble

I want you cause we’re both insane - Finrod x Maglor - 115

Chains - Maedhros x Sauron - Drabble

Open me up - Finarfin x Eärwen - Drabble

Power Dynamics - Haleth x Caranthir - 105

Now come and fuck me, baby - Melkor x Mairon - Drabble

Stars - Varda x Nienna - Double Drabble

The innocence is gone - Melian x Thingol - Drabble

Butt plugs - Erestor x Glorfindel - Drabble

In the most biblical sense, I am beyond repentance - Maedhros x Fingon - Double Drabble

Mutual Masturbation - Aredhel x Celegorm - Drabble

I want your leather studded kiss - Oromë x Celegorm - Drabble

Scars - Nerdanel & Anairë & Eärwen - Drabble

I drink the honey inside your hive - Aulë x Yavanna - Double Drabble

Outdoor sex - Nerdanel x Anairë - Triple Drabble

And I don't care what you say, I want to go too far - Finrod x Turgon - Drabble

Hidden Identity - Maglor x Daeron - Drabble

I try to talk refined for fear that you might find out how I’m imagining you - Fëanor x Nerdanel - Double Drabble

Seed - Curufin x fem!OC - Drabble

Darling, you're so pretty it hurts. - Finrod x Celegorm - Double Drabble

Ritual Sex - Galadriel x Celeborn - Drabble

Canine teeth in the side of my neck - Thranduil x Finrod - Drabble

Feathers - Gothmog x Eönwë - Drabble

And I run for miles just to get a taste - Aredhel x Thuringwethil - Drabble

Worship - Fëanor x Fingolfin - Double Drabble

Young lovers with their legs tied up in knots - Irmo x Estë - Drabble

[doodle-pops]

︶꒦꒷Underrated Character Event Masterlist꒷꒦︶

˚₊‧꒰ა︶꒦꒷Fics/Scenarios꒷꒦︶໒꒱ ‧₊˚

➳❥ Gentle Steps — Curufin x daughter!reader | 1.1k | fluff

➳❥ Happy Feet — Beleg x female!reader | 2k | fluff

➳❥ I’ll Wait For You — Amras x reader | 2.3k | comfort

➳❥ Foreign Hearts — Gil Galad x modern human!reader | 3.7k | fluff

➳❥ In All Shapes and Sizes — Beleg x shapeshifter!reader | 600 | fluff by @felagund-the-valiant

➳❥ Big Hands and Tiny Paws — Argon x reader | 600 | fluff by @felagund-the-valiant

➳❥ Your Father’s Son — Curufin x maia!reader | 1.3k | fluff & hurt/comfort by @felagund-the-valiant

˚₊‧꒰ა︶꒦꒷Headcanons꒷꒦︶໒꒱ ‧₊˚

➳❥ You Have Heterochromia Eyes — Curufin, Argon, Finarfin, Egalmoth, Thingol, Beleg

➳❥ Little Things You Do That Make Them Smile — Turgon, Finarfin, Galdor, Rog, Gwindor

➳❥ Giving Them The Silent Treatment — Amrod, Argon, Angrod, Egalmoth, Beleg, Gil Galad

➳❥ Getting Caught Secretly Dating — Amras, Argon, Angrod, Galdor

➳❥ You Don’t Give Them Attention (They Get Jealous) — Curufin, Amrod, Galdor, Beleg, Gwindor

➳❥ When You Dodge Their Kisses — Amras, Argon, Aegnor, Rog, Thingol

➳❥ Princess Treatment pt2 — Curufin, Amras, Turgon, Finarfin, Aegnor, Galdor, Rog, Beleg

➳❥ Discovering You Writing Fanfiction About Them — Curufin, Turgon, Finarfin, Egalmoth, Beleg, Gwindor

This content is the work of ©doodle-pops 2024. No permission to repost, upload, translate, or plagiarise on any platform. Reblogs are welcomed to show support to content creators. I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators.