#fingolfin fluff

[doodle-pops]

Breathe

Fingolfin x reader

Request: I love your writing! Is there any way you could do just a really sweet soft moment between fingolfin and the reader? Maybe she stays awake at night until he finishes his work for the day looking at the stars on their balcony, and he joins her? just something soft and sweet

Warnings: none, fluff

Words: 1.3k

Synopsis: You stay up late waiting for Fingolfin's return from a lengthy day of duties and being locked up in his office.

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The stars stretched endlessly above Beleriand, a river of silver light scattered across the deep violet sky. The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of the night-blooming flowers that trailed along the edges of the balcony. There you sat curled in a chair, wrapped in a light shawl, watching the slow drift of the constellations as you waited for him.

Your beloved husband was still at his desk, attending to the endless duties of his station. You had long since grown used to his late hours, the weight of his responsibilities pulling him away, but tonight, like many nights before, you had chosen to wait. Not in the lonely silence of your chambers, but here, beneath the vast sky, where the world seemed softer and more patient.

The sound of the wind through the trees was soothing, and the flickering lanterns in the distance. You traced absentmindedly along the rim of your goblet, the cool metal grounding you, though your thoughts were elsewhere. The lined of worry were etched into your forehead, unable to escape the attempts of relaxation. Even you had your days like him, troubled and hunched over a overflowing desk. But it was more than that. Your worry was fixated on him—the weight he claimed to carry effortlessly.

As the night deepened, the torches along the walls of Barad Eithel burned low, and the palace was quiet save for the distant steps of the guards on their rounds. You were growing tired, your eyelids heavier, when at last you heard the quiet creak of a door opening within the chamber behind you. You did not turn at first, only listening to the soft sound of measured steps, followed by the faint sigh of a man finally released from his burdens. And moments later, warm hands settled gently on your shoulders.

“You should be asleep,” Fingolfin murmured, with an edge of amusement. His fingers pressed lightly against your shoulders, rubbing small, soothing circles as he bent down, pressing a brief kiss to the silver of exposed skin. “How many nights have I found you here?”

“As many as it takes,” you replied, tilting your head back slightly so you could see him. His features were softened by the candlelight spilling from the chamber behind him, the strong lines of his face relaxed now that he was no longer bound to duty. His inky, gossamer hair was slightly dishevelled from running his hands through it too many times, a sure sign of a long and tiring day. The braids you wove, some were loosened while the others maintained their durability.

Fingolfin sighed, though there was no real exasperation in it. “And if I had worked until dawn?”

“Then I would have seen the sunrise first.”

He huffed a quiet laugh at that and shuffled to sit beside you, stretching his long legs out before him with a satisfied groan. You turned slightly to face him, studying the way the night’s chill had brought a slight flush to his usually pale skin. Age was set upon his face, no longer was he the same youth who grew tongue-tied around you or cast you a boyish grin whenever you gazed at him for too long. He was a man with strands of silver adorning his sideburns—stress was not kind to him, though it added a smoothness to his aged appearance.

“I hope you did not wait because you thought I needed comfort,” he said, tilting his head to glance at you with an unreadable expression. “I am not so wearied that I cannot—”

“I waited because I wanted to,” you interrupted. “Not because I thought you needed me, but because I wanted to be here when you finished. The hours are long, but they do not feel so long when I have the stars for company.”

His expression softened further. He reached out, catching your hand in his and turning it over, his thumb tracing absently along your palm. His hands, strong and calloused, had held both sword and sceptre, had borne the weight of crowns and carried the fate of his people. Yet here, in this quiet moment, they were only hands—warm, gentle, grounding. The hands that loved, nurtured and guided you with patience.

“You are far too patient with me,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

“I like to think of it as determination,” you teased, squeezing his hand lightly. “I have made it my duty to be where you are, even if it means waiting.”

Slowly he exhaled, tilting his head back against the chair and closing his eyes for a brief moment. The tension in his shoulders eased, as though with your presence, the weight of kingship lessened, if only for a little while. He was silent for a while, his fingers still idly tracing patterns against your skin. Then, without opening his eyes, he said, “Tell me what I missed.”

You smiled at the question. He always asked this when he came to you late at night—when duty pulled him away from the simple, quiet moments of the day. You indulged him, shifting closer so that your knees brushed against his.

“Well, the afternoon was warm,” you began, “so I went to the gardens for a while. The roses are beginning to bloom fully now, though the wind has stolen a few petals. One of the younger guards nearly walked into a fountain because he was too busy watching his reflection in his sword.”

Fingolfin let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Vanity and battle steel are rarely a wise mix.”

You grinned. “Indeed. And later, I spent some time in the library. Your brother’s writings are still as difficult to decipher as ever.”

That made him open his eyes, and he gave you a knowing look. “If you have managed to read Fëanor’s early works without developing a headache, then you are braver than most.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “I did not say I understood them, only that I attempted.”

Then he gave you a true, unguarded smile that you knew so few ever saw. He reached out, brushing his fingers against your cheek before letting it lingered. His touch was warm, despite the coolness of the night, and you found yourself leaning into it without thinking.

“I am grateful for you,” he murmured after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “More than you know.”

You felt your heart stutter at the softness in his tone, the way his gaze held yours as though you were the only thing in his world. “I know,” you whispered in return, lifting your hand to cover his where it rested against your cheek. “And I will always be here.”

His fingers curled slightly, his thumb brushing gently over your cheekbone before he leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. The warmth of it settled deep in your chest, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself savour the moment. For a long while, neither of you spoke. The night stretched around you, silent save for the occasional rustling of the wind through the sheer curtains. The torches along the palace walls flickered lower, their golden light casting long, soft shadows.

Eventually, he released another slow breath, his fingers threading loosely with yours once more. “Come,” he murmured, tugging you gently to your feet. “The stars will still be here tomorrow. But tonight, you should rest.”

You hesitated, glancing up at the sky once more, reluctant to let the peace of the night slip away just yet. But then Fingolfin wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close against his side, and you decided that, perhaps, there was no place warmer than this. “Only if you rest too,” you murmured against his shoulder, letting him lead you inside.

His answering hum was noncommittal, but as you stepped into the dim candlelight of your shared chambers, you knew he would not leave your side tonight.

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[xximmortalkissxx]

Be Welcome in the House of Fëanor Chapter Two:

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Art Credit: @silmaspens

(Day three of potentially the worst flu I've ever had...so I wrote some more Fëanorian comfort fluff. 🤧 Hope you enjoy!)

Summary: You find yourself on an outing with the Fëanorians, who have been summoned by King Finwë and Queen Indis, to discuss a mysterious proposal. While there, you also get the chance to meet the entire extended family...and experience the friction that comes along with a gathering of the entire House of Finwë.

*She/Her Pronouns / Elven Reader.

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Months pass after your first fateful dinner at the home of Fëanor and his family. You are now not only a regular guest within their halls, but a close companion to all of their sons, especially Celegorm, who shares your love of wild places and restless spirit. 

Your own family quickly takes notice of how much happier you are, now that you finally have found true friendship outside your kin. It isn’t that the other Vanyar children are cruel to you, but you are…odd, hard for them to fully understand. Preferring to run wild through the woods rather than sit still and serene, crafting poems and singing praises to the Valar. 

With a heavy heart, your parents write to their dear friend Queen Indis, requesting that you be placed under the wardship of one of King Finwë’s sons. The Queen of the Noldor agrees to the arrangement wholeheartedly, having heard of your close friendship with her step-grandchildren and hoping to strengthen her kinship with them…eventually. It is, of course, also Indis’ suggestion that the proposal come from Finwë himself instead of her. Not wanting the opportunity to be taken from you simply due to Fëanor’s open disdain of her. 

On this auspicious day, the entire House of Fëanor walks briskly through the streets of Tirion with you in tow. As you skip along, your feet meet the sandy streets with soft crunches, and you marvel at the way the grains glisten in the light like tiny sparkling diamonds. 

Nearing the Great Square, the sight of Galathilion the White Tree catches your eye. While it doesn’t produce a light of its own, you think to yourself that it is no less beautiful than Telperion and much more… climbable. 

Your feet barely begin to sprint, when a hand firmly grasps the back of your dress and lifts you in the air like a kitten caught by the scruff. 

“Not for climbing Songbird,” Fëanor chides with a light chuckle, before setting you back down. You groan with disappointment but obey, and fall back with the others. 

“What he means is, not for climbing until Laurelin wanes,” Celegorm whispers covertly with a grin. “Just wait, I’m sure Íryë will jump at the chance to join you.” 

“I’m excited to meet your cousins.” You reply with a skip returning to your steps, your fresh scolding already forgotten. 

“You’ll get along with Íryë exceptionally well,” Maedhros interjects, ruffling your hair. “She shares your love of… spontaneity.” he adds, finding a more charitable word for your mischievous nature. 

“Fun Nelyo, it’s called fun.” Maglor chuckles, rolling his eyes. 

“I know what fun is, Kano.” 

“Sure, when Finno’s there to get you in and out of it.” 

Their bickering fades into background noise as your focus drifts to the great tower of Mindon Eldaliéva, rising high enough to pierce the sky. Craning your neck, you become dizzy trying to peer at the silver lantern perched at the very top. Caranthir places a gentle hand on your back and pushes you forward so you don’t fall. 

“Come’on Songbird, focus.” he coaxes, his voice lacking any real frustration as he guides you to follow his siblings through the imposing double doors.

Upon entering, your eyes sweep the grand foyer of the House of Finwë, and it nearly takes your breath away. The high stone walls shine with colorful refracted light, illuminated by majestic stained-glass windows. Even the floor beneath your feet is a work of art, inlaid with gold geometric patterns that stretch the full length of the hall. 

“By the Valar…” you murmur, eyes wide with wonder. You could have lost yourself completely gazing at the craftsmanship, if not for a blur of white fabric rushing past you to tackle Celegorm and Curufin with surprising force. 

“Took you all long enough! We’ve been waiting forever..” Aredhel grumbles, releasing her hold on her cousins.   

“Hardly, we’ve been here for what? Fifteen minutes?” Turgon replies, rolling his eyes with his arms crossed.

“Thirty.” Argon corrects, helping Curufin and Celegorm to their feet. 

“In Íryë time, that may as well be a century.” Fingon counters, stepping forward to wrap an arm fondly around Maedhros’ shoulder. “It’s good to see you.” 

“Ah, leave it to my ever dutiful half-brother to arrive thirty minutes early…typical,” Fëanor scoffs, earning a subtle sharp look from Nerdanel.

“He’s in the audience chamber with Natto and Nammë,” Fingon replies with an easy smile, “But not to worry, your other brother has not yet arrived.” he adds innocently, putting emphasis on just the right word to earn a faint eye twitch from his uncle.  

“That was never in question. Arafinwë couldn’t arrive anywhere on time for all the gems in Aman.”  Fëanor responds with a bitter laugh. 

“Peace husband,” Nerdanel gives an exasperated laugh while taking Fëanor’s arm and giving it a firm shake. “What did we agree?” 

“Not in front of the children,” she repeats in unison with him. “Yes, now let’s go see what this mysterious proposal is.” 

As the adults take their leave, you raise a brow and turn to Maglor. 

“Um. Kano, what was that about?” 

“Oh that? Just Atto’s incessant rivalry with his brothers,” he replies, crossing his arms with a heavy sigh. 

“Half-brothers,” Fingon corrects with a laugh. “Very important distinction.” 

“Songbird, this is Findekáno, Írissë, Turukáno, and Arakáno.” Maglor introduces you to each of the children of Fingolfin and Anairë, who nod to you in turn. “Cousins, this is Songbird.” 

“Odd for Aratar Fëanor to host a Vanyar in his halls…” Turgon mutters, looking you over inquisitively. 

“Only if You-Know-Who was the Vanyar in question,” Curufin responds with a chuckle. 

“You-Know-Who?” You ask, your interest peaked. 

“Queen Indis, our grandmother,”  Aredhel answers, giving her cousins a pointed look. 

Maedhros gives an apologetic shrug, “It’s best not to use her name within earshot of Atto, or to refer to her as our grandmother. That’s a surefire way to earn his wrath.”

“Why does he hate her so much?” You ask with furrowed brows, reflecting on the numerous interactions you’ve had with the gentle queen back home with your family. 

“Who can say?”  The eldest son of Fëanor replies gently with a sigh.

“I can. It’s clearly jealous-” Aredhel is interrupted by the double doors of the palace opening, followed by laughter and a cluster of gold filling the hall. Finarfin, the family’s patriarch, is leading the line, followed by Finrod with Galadriel hoisted on his back and ending with Angrod and Aegnor close behind.  

“Ah, my soul sings to see you, dearest ones,” Finarfin’s smile is warm as he greets his nieces and nephews. “Tell me, what mood can I expect my beloved eldest brother to be in today?” 

“Aratto Ñolvo arrived thirty minutes early.” Curufin responds with a smirk.

“Mother is with him, however,” Maedhros adds quickly, earning a good-natured laugh from his uncle.

“Thank the Valar for small miracles.” Finarfin replies, kissing each of his children on the forehead before turning on his heel to hastily make his way down the hall. 

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The audience chamber is bathed in golden light as King Finwë sits upon his carved throne with Queen Indis at his side, and his sons gathered before them. Fëanor’s posture is rigid, his sharp gray eyes betraying a simmering impatience, while Fingolfin and Finarfin are more composed, though their gazes hold their own measures of wariness. Nerdanel stands calmly beside her husband, an arm linked with his, as if anchoring him to her.

“We have called you here,” King Finwë began, his tone cordial despite the obvious tension lingering in the air, “to discuss an important diplomatic matter. A well-respected family among the Vanyar have written, asking if one of you would be willing to take their child as a ward.”

“An odd request,” Fingolfin remarks. 

Fëanor scoffs. “Hardly, would this happen to be the same plucky child who has befriended my children?” 

“The very same,” Queen Indis replies with a knowing smile.

“Then they could have saved us all the trouble and written Nerdanel and I directly,” Fëanor continues, earning a muffled chuckle from Fingolfin. 

“Oh yes, how silly of them. What with your close rapport with the Vanyar...” Fingolfin replies sarcastically, earning a sharp elbow from Finarfin and an even sharper glare from Fëanor.

“We will happily take her in as our ward.” Nerdanel interjects, seeking to defuse building hostility. 

Before either Finwë or Indis can respond, Fingolfin turns to Nerdanel and Fëanor, his voice more careful this time, almost hesitant. “With all due respect, would it not be the more… appropriate arrangement for the girl to live with myself or Áro?”

“Meaning?” Fëanor asks through gritted teeth. 

“Yours is a loving household, but a loving household of all boys. Would she not be more comfortable living amongst more gentle companionship?” Fingolfin clarifies.

“I would hardly call Íryë or Artë gentle,’” Finarfin chuckles, earning an exasperated look from his brother. “But I take your meaning.”

Fëanor’s temper flares. His jaw is tight, and a sharp retort hovers on his lips, but Nerdanel speaks first. “Surely, it is not a question of who possesses the more fitting household, but rather where the girl herself feels most at ease?”

The tension in Fëanor’s posture softens, if only slightly, his wife’s presence, the one force that can steady him when fury threatens to consume him whole.

King Finwë observes them all in silence for a moment before nodding to Indis. “Nerdanel speaks wisely. The girl has already chosen where her companionship lies. To separate her from those she calls friends would be a cruel thing, done only for the sake of formality.” His gaze settled on Fingolfin and Finarfin. “I do not deny that she would be well cared for in your homes, but the girl should dwell under Fëanor’s roof, if that is her wish.”

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“Alright, best out of ten.” Galadriel pants with her hands resting on her knees. To stave off boredom, you, Galadriel, Celegorm, and Aredhel have been racing to see who can reach the other end of the grand hall first. Having been blessed by the Vala Nessa herself, you win each and every time, but Galadriel has not made it easy. 

“Oh give it a rest, Artë, even I haven’t been able to best her…yet.” Celegorm groans, panting with his head resting on the cold stone floor. 

“You should come riding with us sometime, that might actually make it a true competition.” Aredhel suggests to you with a strained laugh, sitting with her legs crossed on the ground equally out of breath. 

“I’ve…never ridden a horse before.” you confess sheepishly, bracing for any sign of mockery or rejection from your new friends. 

“Truly?” Galadriel asks, her excitement palpable. “There is nothing like it, you’ll love it.”

“Not to worry, Finno’s an excellent teacher,” Aredhel says with a fond smile. “He even got Caranthir to become a decent rider, and he was terrified of horses.” she adds, scrunching her nose at Caranthir who in turn becomes beat red.

“Come off it Íryë, I was not,” Caranthir snaps.   

“Oh please, yes you were.” Celegorm replies flippantly with a laugh, not moving an inch from the floor. 

“I just don’t like their eyes…they’re unsettling, alright?” 

“No more unsettling than what you see in the mirror, I’m sure.” Celegorm snickers before emitting a loud groan, as the breath is knocked out of him by Caranthir. 

“Nienna’s tears, a moment’s peace, I pray.” Maedhros sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before rising to pry his younger brothers apart. Fingon and Finrod quickly follow suit with practiced ease. Maedhros grabs Caranthir, while Fingon takes hold of Celegorm, with both boys still swinging wildly. Finrod kneels between the two, his eyes kind as he takes one of their small flailing fists in each of his hands and lowers them slowly. 

“Tyelko. Moryo. What happened?” Finrod asks gently. The boys begin yelling over each other and Finrod shakes his head. “One at a time, Moryo, you first.”   

“What else? Tyelko is being a jerk,” he mumbles in response. Finrod bobs his head slowly, encouraging Caranthir to continue. Their elder cousin listens carefully to both sides, and after a moderate amount of mediation and no small amount of compassion and compromise, the fight is squashed. 

A sense of fellowship soon returns to the hall, as the cousins break off into smaller groups again. Galadriel is deftly braiding your hair while animatedly discussing the finer points of horseback riding. Aredhel and Celegorm arm wrestle nearby with Curufin mediating. Maedhros, Maglor, Fingon, and Finrod are sitting by the hearth sharing stories punctuated by periodic bursts of laughter. While Caranthir, Turgon, Argon, Anrod, and Aegnor play a game of cards at the long table in the center of the hall, each trying desperately to figure out if Turgon is bluffing or not. 

A sharp whistle breaks the peace of the moment and all eyes turn to Fëanor and Nerdanel walking down the hall. “Say your namáries, we’re leaving.” Fëanor announces.

“Can we not stay for dinner?” Caranthir asks, moving a pile of small gems towards himself after a winning hand.

“Not tonight dearest, I’m sure the twins have run poor Núre ragged.” his mother replies, kissing the top of his dark hair. 

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Eager for dinner, the sons of Fëanor are the first through the front doors and quickly burst into the dining hall. Each talking over each other as they fill their plates with meats, breads, roasted vegetables, and all manner of other delicious fare. 

“Hang tight a moment Songbird, Fëanáro and I have something we’d like to discuss with you.” Nerdanel takes a drowsy Amras while Fëanor takes Amrod from the ever patient, but exhausted Núre, who quickly takes her leave from the home.

They guide you into the formal sitting room and gesture for you to take a seat. You do, fingers fidgeting slightly, though neither Fëanor nor Nerdanel seem ill at ease or angry with you in any way. 

“In a surprising turn of events,” Nerdanel begins, gently rocking Amras against her chest. “The audience with King Finwë this afternoon happened to be about you.” 

“Me?” You ask, choking out a surprised laugh, searching their faces for any sign of jest.

“Mhm, your parents have asked if we would be willing to take you in as our ward,”  Fëanor answers. “Now, Nerdanel and I would be delighted to have you. We have longed for a daughter of our own, especially one as spirited as you…clearly to no avail. But that is of secondary importance. All we need to know is, is this something you would like?” he asks, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. There is a pause as you look between the two, unsure now if this is jest or a dream?

“I-yes, I would like that.” You reply, your eyes welling slightly with happy tears. Before Fëanor or Nerdanel can respond, the door to the sitting room bursts open and the five remaining brothers fall unceremoniously to the floor, having clearly been trying to listen in to the private conversation. 

“Songbird’s going to stay with us?” Celegorm asks excitedly, squirming out from underneath two of his brothers. 

“For as long as she likes,” his father replies, shaking his head fondly at the state of his children. 

You smile softly as you look around the room, filled with warmth and love, but also finally a feeling of acceptance. 

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[lamemaster]

Trade Worth an Afternoon

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Nolofinwean + Celegorm x Sister Reader

Summary: Ambarussar = 1 Y/n?

AN: My soul said, "WRITE THIS SHIT RN!!"

“Hmm why yes Celgorm, of course, we can come to an agreement,” Aredhel drawled carefully, her voice laced with amusement as she glanced away from where you and Argon sat, engrossed in your toys.  Her eyes twinkled with mischief, a stark contrast to the seriousness of the "trade negotiations" she was proposing.

Stifling a laugh that threatened to erupt, Celegorm replied, playing along.  “2 Ambrussa for 1 y/n.  That is fair trade, Aredhel.”  His voice held a hint of playful arrogance, knowing full well the absurdity of bartering with children.

The mention of your name pierced through your concentration, and you looked up from your game of blocks with wide, curious eyes.  Argon, ever the follower, followed suit, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“You are right, perhaps,” Aredhel conceded with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she turned her attention to you directly.  “What do you think, little y/n?  Do you want to become Celegorm’s sister?”

A small patter of feet echoed across the polished stone floor as both you and Argon scrambled towards your sister and cousin. “No. I am your sister,” you declared bluntly, your voice clear and unwavering.

“Yes, y/n is our sister,” Argon parroted, his voice echoing yours in a perfect unison.  The pair of you, oblivious to the undercurrent of amusement between your elders, stood side-by-side, a united front against this unexpected proposition.

Pulling Argon into a playful embrace, Aredhel feigned a dramatic sigh.  “But you have a sister, me.  Now Celegorm and his brothers don’t have one.  Why don’t we share, just like amil taught us?” 

Argon, ever his mother’s pet and easily swayed by her gentle words, was instantly caught in a moral dilemma.  His brow furrowed as he deliberated, torn between wanting to please both his mother and his best friend.  “No… but,” he stammered, his voice laden with worry as he looked back at you with a helpless expression.

You, however, were not so easily swayed.  You set your jaw with a determination that belied your age and glared at Celegorm, who was trying his best to stifle another laugh.  “I won’t go,” you declared fiercely. 

Celegorm, caught off guard by your outburst, hoisted you into his arms with a playful rumble.  "And why not, y/n?" he teased, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You flailed your limbs in protest, the urge to pull his hair warring with the ticklish sensation his leather cuffs sent against your skin.

"Finno and Turu won't allow this!" you sputtered, glaring back at him with narrowed eyes.  "And ata loves me more than Aredhel!"  This last declaration was more of a desperate hope than a statement of fact, but it served its purpose. Aredhel's smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something akin to annoyance crossing her features.

As for Argon, the very notion of being separated from you sent him into a silent panic.  He looked mortified at the idea of sharing his room with the rambunctious Fëanorian twins, even more mortified at the prospect of leaving his unfinished drawing and the half-built block castle behind.  With a whimper, he tugged on Aredhel's sleeve, his lower lip trembling.  "No, y/n is my sister," he echoed your words, shaking his head vehemently as if denying the very possibility of the trade.

"Uncle Nolofinwe and my father already agreed," Celegorm declared smugly, a broad grin splitting his face. "Unfortunately, y/n, you will be now our sister."

His words hit you like a thunderbolt. Your eyes widened in shock, threatening to spill tears at any moment. "No!" you cried, your voice trembling like a leaf in a winter wind. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I'm Argon's sister! We promised Amil we'd finish building our castle together! And besides," you hiccuped, rubbing your eyes "Ambarussar are too big for my bed. They won't fit!"

Argon, mirroring your distress, began to wail. He clung to Aredhel, his tiny fists clutching at her tunic. "No! No y/n go!" he sobbed, his voice thick with tears.

"And when my brothers and I return from our next adventure," Celegorm continued adding fuel to the fire in his chaotic ways, "y/n will come with us.”

Argon, his lower lip trembling, clutched you desperately. His only playmate, his confidante. Galadriel was too smart to play with on normal days. 

The room erupted in chaos. You, fueled by a sudden surge of adrenaline, wriggled free from Celegorm's surprised grasp.  "Never!" you screamed, bolting towards the nearest exit. 

Argon, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, followed close behind, his small legs pumping furiously.

Fingolfin, his face a mask of thunder, stood before Aredhel and Celegorm, both of whom shuffled uncharacteristically on their feet. The usual twinkle in their eyes was replaced with a dull sheepishness.

"What did you do?"  Fingolfin's voice boomed.

"Well..." Aredhel began, her usual silver tongue failing her.  Celegorm, notorious for his smooth talk, coughed awkwardly, unable to meet Fingolfin's steely gaze.

And for once both Aeredhel and Celegorm were at a loss for their words. The prank…perhaps had been too harsh. The flushed faces of both Fingon and Turgon, who had spent the entire evening looking both you both were enough to answer that it indeed had been too much. 

And thus, the product of their prank lay in Fingolfin and Anaire's laps. Both you and Argon slept peacefully, your faces streaked with tears that had dried on your cheeks.

"Aredhel," Turgon's voice was a low rumble, devoid of its usual playful teasing. "We scoured the entire city for y/n and Argon. The entire afternoon."  His gaze, usually warm, was now icy with disapproval.

Fingon, his hand resting protectively on your head, patted Turgon's arm in a silent plea for calm.  "What did you even say for them to hide so fiercely?" he asked, his voice stern but tinged with relief.  "They ran away the moment they saw me and Turgon, then vanished for the entire day." Fingon usually retained the position of the most loved sibling for all Nolofinwean siblings.

"Y/n even hid all her belongings, and neither of them showed up for their evening snacks."

This last detail struck a deeper chord.  Evening snacks with Fingolfin were a cherished ritual for the younger members of the family, a time for stories and laughter.  That they would skip it willingly was a testament to the terror they must have felt.

“It was merely a jest,” Aredhel tries to weasel her way out of the situation. 

"A jest?" Turgon echoed, his voice tight with contained fury. "An entire afternoon of frantic searching constitutes a jest to you, Aredhel?"

Anaire, her face pale with worry, finally spoke. "They haven't said a word since we found them," she said, her voice trembling slightly.  "They were huddled together under their bed sobbing hysterically. What did you do to them?"

"We told them that we were going to trade y/n for the twins," Aredhel admitted, her voice barely a whisper. 

The room fell silent for a beat, thick with tension that quickly dissolved into an eruption of laughter. Fingon and Fingolfin, unable to contain themselves, doubled over, snorting with amusement. Even Anaire, despite her initial glare, found a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Finwe's crooked humor, it seemed, wasn't lost on his bloodline.

"Oh, my poor darlings," Anaire cooed, leaning down to kiss your and Argon's foreheads, a soft smile gracing her features. "That must have been terrifying. But you two managed to hide quite well.” While both the said, elflings barely stirred in their sleep.

Aredhel, relieved by the shift in atmosphere, puffed out her chest with a hint of pride. "They were! We even had them convinced Uncle Curufinwe and Ata were in on it."

Before she could revel in her mischievousness any further, Turgon, ever the serious one, swatted her playfully on the back of the head.

And that is how the infamous story of trading siblings came to be in the Finwean clan. One that often left a sputtering mess of Celegorm and Aredhel. And a slightly offended Ambarussar.

[astral-aromance]

I wrote something silly today because I had the starting scene in my head for a while now, and I wanted to work it into a little story!

No Archive Warnings Apply

Aredhel/Celegorm (mentioned), Fëanor & Fingolfin, House of Finwë Members & Maeglin

Attempt at Humor, Family Bonding, House of Finwë, Valinor in the Fourth Age of Arda, Fluff and Crack, Banter, Brotherly Bonding, One Big Happy Family, Nothing Hurts, Post-Canon, Everyone Is Alive

Summary:

Several members of the House of Finwë get together to plan the wedding of Irissë and Tyelkormo

[elronds-library]

Unruly and ill-behaved, downright feral even

by Swanhild (@swanhild)

Bedtime in Fëanáro and Nerdanel’s family can be a bit of a time-consuming affair. Or: A brief glimpse into the parenting adventures of Fëanáro and Nerdanel.

General, No Archive Warnings

Words: 7,125

[starsofarda]

Happy "Ficlets for your Valentine's day"!!! 💖🌹✨ - 1st heart

Here's a little surprise from yours truly - first ofa series of ficlets for St Valentine's day! I hope you will enjoy!

When he first sees Anaire, Nolofinwe doesn't understand what is happening - why he suddenly starts jumbling his words when she speaks to him, why he feels so nervous, why he feels lost every time she speaks, or laughs.

He would ask Feanaro, who maybe has more experience, but they hardly get along and he doesn't want to bother him unless necessary.

And yet.

Nolofinwe, after all, is known to be a bit emotionally dense, he struggles a bit with that.

People say that he sounds like he is in love, but he doesn't understand what they mean.

But one evening, when all is quiet and the fireflies light up the sky like a million of tiny stars, and he sees her under a pavillion, her glittery dress and her braids all decorated with flowers, holding a decorated lamp as if that is her most precious treasure, he finally understands.

He understands that he is in love and the way he does is that he wants Anaire to look at him the way she looks at that lamp.

He slowly approaches her, not even realizing that he is frowning madly, so maybe that does help in explaining her initial worried look.

"Lady Anaire," Nolofinwe starts, sounding way too solemn for the occasion, "I was wondering if..."

And his confidence is gone the moment her eyes as bright as amber look at him. He delivers the last part of the request like someone who has run several miles. "Would you walk with me for a while, please?"

And he knows Fenaro WILL NEVER make him live that down.

Anaire is a bit confused. "Walk... With you, Prince Nolofinwe?"

"Yes, well... You... You don't need to, it's just... Beautiful out there and-"

Her soft laughter interrupts him - she has understood. "I will walk with you, Prince Nolofinwe."

And all he does is offering her his arm. And she holds it. And they start walking in awkward silence - silence which will soon be gone for soft words under the shadow of the trees.

But now, only the fireflies know.

Only they know about two Elves falling in love so very very slowly.

[tinwe-the-local-assassin]

And I Wove the Light of Luarelin Into Your Midnight Tresses - Tyelkobaldo_Feanorini - The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien [Archive of Our Own]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64536904

Fingon Findekáno and the tale of his golden ribbons.

I wrote this story as a birthday present for one of my best friends I've found online on The Tolkien Forum website, but I'm posting this on Ao3 waaay too late. I primarily share my works on TTF, but I decided it's time to share some of my recent stories for my Ao3 readers too. So here it goes:

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Regrets & Resolutions

Prompt: Regrets & Resolutions for MoonLord

Characters: Fëanor x/& Fingolfin

Warnings: /

“I hardly think my return shall be a pleasant surprise,” Fëanor mumbled at the gates of Mandos.

The Judge cocked his head in wordless indulgence.

“That depends on what you intend to do with your new-found freedom.”

“I…shall apologise to Ñolo,” the Spirit of Fire whispered. “I regret the way we parted, and I have sorely missed his silly face.”

“That is a good resolution,” Námo praised. “I believe he’s also regretted your absence bitterly.”

“How do you know?” Fëanor asked suspiciously.

“He’s on the other side of that door as we speak,” Námo shrugged and dissolved into merry laughter.

So, we're almost at the end of yet another month of me getting on everybody's nerves!

Lots of love!

-> Masterlist(by @cilil)

[olorinscombatboots]

the little guy in the back of my brain: fëanor is crack, finarfin is fluff, fingolfin is angst

the even littler guy in the wayyyy back of my brain: FINWË IS SMUT

[doodle-pops]

Snowflake

Fingolfin x reader

A/N: Finally, some nice and soft Fingolfin content. I wrote this all the back in 2021, and it’s among some of the oldest pieces I have collecting dust.

Warnings: none, fluff and comforting

Words: 1.3k

Synopsis: You convinced your tedious at-work husband to take a break from all his duties.

The snowfall outside the cabin was a sight to behold, its unpredictability adding to the charm of the moment. As you sat snuggled up in blankets by the cosy fireplace, the howling wind outside carried with it a cascade of soft, pristine flakes that painted the world in a tranquil white. The snowflakes danced in the air before settling gently on the ground, muffling the sounds of the forest beyond.

It was as if nature itself had decided to join in on your quest for serenity, providing a serene backdrop for the break your husband had so graciously taken from his demanding role as King. The beauty of the winter scene served as a reminder that sometimes, amidst life’s chaos, it was essential to embrace moments of stillness and tranquillity, and that’s precisely what you were doing in this peaceful cabin retreat.

Sitting beside the cosy fireplace, nestled in a multitude of blankets, you listened to the haunting wail of the wind outside the cabin you and your husband had chosen for your retreat. The snowfall this year had been unpredictable, and despite that, your husband, who usually had a bustling schedule, had decided that it was best for both of you to take some time off for yourselves. It had been a peculiar request at first, given his workaholic tendencies. You couldn’t help but feel a tad nervous, fearing that this idyllic scene might suddenly vanish like a fleeting dream.

In the past few days, you had been waiting for him to abruptly spring up and rush off to work, but it had yet to happen. At this moment, you found yourself wrapped in layers of blankets, your husband peacefully napping by your side. He had been engrossed in reading earlier until your fingers started to caress his hair, luring him into a peaceful slumber. You didn’t attempt to prevent him from drifting off; after all, it was only the second day at the cabin, and he was still recovering from the immense workload he had endured.

As you gently ran your fingers through his hair, he shifted closer to your touch, letting out a contented sigh. It was an unusual sight considering he wasn’t typically one for physical affection. Throughout your courtship and into your marriage, you had been the one to initiate such moments. Watching him lay on your lap, cocooned in blankets, was a rare and beautiful experience.

“Who would have thought that you’d be so exhausted after your demanding duties as King? Perhaps you should have heeded my advice to rest more often,” you gently chided, a mix of scolding and gratitude for him finally taking a break, as you reminisced about your request from a few months ago. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his stubbornness. It felt as though he was awake and listening, for in that moment, he let out a deep sigh and wrinkled his nose as if responding to your query. It wouldn’t have been the first time he had done so, fooling you into thinking he was asleep when he was quite the opposite.

Continuing to gently stroke his hair, you reached for your mug filled with steaming hot tea and brought it to your lips. Much to your delight, the tea remained wonderfully warm, even though more than fifteen minutes had passed since it was made. You let out a satisfied sigh as the comforting warmth spread through your body, adding to the overall cosiness of the moment.

After a few more soothing sips, you carefully placed the cup back on the nearby table. Your hands then shifted to deftly remove the book from his grasp, cradling it in your own. With a smile, you picked up where he had left off, your eyes dancing across the pages as you lost yourself in the captivating world of words and stories.

As you delved deeper into the text, a familiar tune began to escape your lips, a melody that had once been sung to you during the long, cold, and perilous nights while crossing the treacherous Helcaraxё. This hauntingly beautiful melody has always brought you immense comfort, soothing your anxiety during the harshest of times. Now, it had evolved into a cherished ritual, particularly effective in moments like this when you sought solace with him.

His eyes remained closed, his breathing steady, but you knew he was listening, his heart attuned to the melody and your presence. The combination of the enchanting tale in the book and the melody weaving through the air wrapped both of you in a cocoon of serenity, pushing aside the worries of the world and allowing you to savour the peaceful stillness of the moment.

Aroused from his slumber, Fingolfin turned his head slowly, sleep still evident in his eyes, and offered you a sleepy smile as he awaited your response. Shifting from his position on your lap, he sat up at your side, pulling the blankets around his waist and over his legs to keep warm.

“You know,” he began in a gentle tone, “the whole point of taking time off was to reduce our stress, not to invoke it. So why hum that tune?” His sleepy smile persisted as he spoke.

You continued to stroke his dark hair, smoothing out the minor tangles he had acquired during his nap. With a thoughtful expression, you responded, “Well, considering that we’re taking this break because you’ve been feeling stressed and tired, I thought it would be the perfect time to sing it, don’t you think?” You punctuated your statement with another soft hum.

Blinking slowly to shake off the remnants of sleep, Fingolfin leaned in to peck your cheek and then your forehead. He pulled you closer to his chest, wrapping his arms securely around you. Setting your book aside and adjusting the blankets to cover both of you, he arranged them to keep you warm as you settled on top of him on the couch.

“Well then, if that’s the case, I believe it would be a wonderful idea for you to join me for a nap, don’t you think? It might help alleviate some of that stress,” he suggested with a warm smile. Without waiting for your response, he gently pulled you closer, his legs enfolding you in a surprisingly tender manner. This behaviour always caught you off guard during your cuddle sessions; you expected to be the one clinging to him, not the other way around. But it seemed he was determined to ensure you napped together.

“It appears I have little say in the matter, my love,” you playfully remarked, your laughter filling the air as he lowered his head to pepper kisses on your forehead, nose, and eventually your lips. The kiss on your lips lingered, conveying his deep contentment. Breaking away briefly, he met your gaze, an intimate exchange that never failed to make your heart race. Then, he leaned in once more, gently rubbing his nose against yours in the most affectionate and tender manner.

Sighing in response to this sweet gesture, you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to succumb to the euphoria of being enveloped by your beloved on a chilly winter day. Nestling into his chest, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the delightful scent of mint and hazelnut. With the soft backdrop of snowfall and the gentle crackling of the firewood, the two of you drifted into a peaceful trance, wrapped in each other’s loving embrace.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @sakurayaxd @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @lamemaster @addaigio @elficially-done-with-life @eunoiaastralwings

If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link.

[animatorweirdo]

The White-Scaled Dragon Princess (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

Your courtship with Fingon had been filled with happiness and joy, allowing you to become a happier version of yourself. But then, trouble arises when Fingon's father finds out about your relationship and demands to meet you. Will you be able to meet him as your true self? Or will you keep hiding and risk losing your relationship with Fingon?

[] = High Valyrian

Warnings: relationship stuff, fluff, reader taking brave steps, witches, strange potions, reader being afraid to show herself, paranoia, disagreements, arguments, hiding, violence, Fingon getting hurt, nearly being burned alive, Meraxes killing a drake, Fingolfin being really chill about reader and her dragon, reader not knowing how to handle acceptance and some mentions of a possible marriage.

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

- It had been a year and a half since your confession, and your courtship with Fingon had flourished. Every moment you shared had been filled with amazing and loving moments. 

- Fingon was a sweet and attentive lover. Though your time together was limited due to his duties as his people’s prince, whenever he was free, he would come to you and take you to see a new place each time. Traveling, the one activity you once feared doing had now become one of your favorite activities with Fingon. 

- Thanks to him, you have grown more confident and less afraid to try new things. 

- Being in a courtship for the first time was a learning experience for you, but Fingon was patient as it was the first time for him as well, especially since he was courting a human. 

- You learned many new things about what it was like being in a relationship with someone, even surprising new things about yourself. 

- You learned that one of your love languages was physical touch. At first, you thought you were simply touch-starved as you had not received much physical affection in your life, but you found yourself unable to help it as you found Fingon’s scent and presence comforting. Feeling him close and wrapped in your arms just felt right and rather addicting in a way that made you feel like a love-sick fool. 

- It made you take all the opportunities to embrace Fingon or just hold his hand. You did feel worried about being too clingy or making him uncomfortable with so much physical contact. Fingon, however, assured you that he loved it because it meant you were comfortable, and honestly, it made him think of you like an affectionate cat with sudden love bursts. 

- You felt assured when he showed he was not afraid to show physical affection in return. He sometimes gently traces his fingers across the scales on your skin with a feather-like touch and his eyes full of fascination. It made you feel rather sensitive, but not in a bad way. It was new as no one in your life had shown such attention toward them, and you felt like you would burst whenever Fingon placed a kiss on them, either on your hand or your face. 

- Fingon seemed to take enjoyment out of showing such affection to you. You swear his teasing will be the end of you one day. 

- Quality time was also something you enjoyed. You understood that Fingon was a prince and thus a lot of his time would be taken by his duties. So, whenever he was free to visit, you made sure to spend and appreciate the time you had with him. 

- You would do many activities with him as you had set a goal for yourself to try all kinds of new things. Fingon was encouraging and always felt proud whenever you dared to try new things. It helped you find new hobbies, even though you enjoyed doing them with him than by yourself. 

- Gift giving also became something you liked to do. Fingon often brought you gifts you liked, such as books, pastries, or some practical gifts like herbs whenever Ioreth ran out. Eventually, you started to want to gift him things in return. As he was a prince, there was probably not much he could not get himself, however, you started gifting him things you had either found that made you think of him or things made by your hand. You once made a scarf for him when you learned knitting from Ioreth and he started wearing it nearly everywhere. You also became oddly good at finding jewels at the mountain and giving them to him in excitement. 

- Your time together has been filled with happiness and learning experiences. You noticed that you were much happier than before. Even Freda and Ioreth noted how much you had changed. It was a great thing. You were no longer your fearful self, who would not even dare to take a step outside your home without a cloak to conceal yourself. 

- You had even made a step to reveal yourself to Freda’s village. Surprisingly, the villagers were pretty accepting of you. They did not seem to mind the scales on your skin, and eventually, you walked among them casually without fear. Fingon felt proud of you for taking such a step and happy that your village accepted you. 

- Unfortunately, Fingon’s relationship with Meraxes did not improve much. Your beloved dragon no longer tries to kill him, but she barely tolerates him at a minimum. She behaves like an old grumpy cat, who grumbles at the sight of him and looks at him judgementally like he is a pest in your life— a pest she could not get rid of because it would then upset you. 

- Fingon tried to charm her to his side, but your dragon was a stubborn old lady, so his attempt did not succeed. It was sad, as you had hoped she would one day accept him, but since she stopped trying to kill him — you took it. 

- Your relationship with Fingon was open with your friends and family. However, you did keep it private as Fingon’s father and people did not know about his courtship with you. 

- You first felt worried as marriage was forbidden during war among his people so it probably included courting. They would also most likely disapprove of your courtship because you were a human— a human with scales. An immortal elven prince being with a mortal human with scales was something no one would even think about. 

- Fingon assured that your mortality and the opinion of his people did not deter him. He loved you and staying away from you was something that would never cross his mind. He would be prepared if his father were to learn of his courtship with you. 

- Well… that day came sooner than expected. One day, Fingon came to you with an anxious look. His father knew he was courting someone and wanted to meet you. 

- You would panic at the idea of meeting his father. There was no knowing how he would react to your appearance and you had a feeling that hiding your face from him was not an option. 

- You would ask what you would do, and Fingon would then reveal that you needed to show yourself or his father would force him to end your courtship as they were at war with Morgoth. This would only cause more panic as you did not want your courtship with Fingon to end. 

- Fingon would then try to encourage you to meet him. His father was not cruel to end his relationship without meeting you. He might be the High King, but he was an even-tempered elf with an open mind. He was most likely being protective. If he met you and saw that you had a good heart, then there was a high chance he would allow your and Fingon’s courtship to continue. He was not someone who would judge someone based on their appearance alone. 

- Despite Fingon’s assurance, you did not feel confident in the outcome. There was actually no knowing if his father would accept you. In your experience, royals and other nobles have always had their own expectations and were not open-minded like the common people. Also, dragons were commonly associated with Morgoth, and your other half was a dragon. So, there was even a high chance his father would take you for a spy or an enemy trying to take advantage of his son. 

- This would leave you both in a difficult position. You did not want to meet his father and reveal your scales to him, but if you didn’t, then you might lose your courtship with Fingon. 

- Fingon would ask you to think about it and gain courage. He can try to stall his father but not forever. You both had to meet him if you were to continue your courtship. 

- You would share your worries with Freda and tell her of your situation, who would say the same thing. According to her, Fingon’s father, Fingolfin, was seen as a fair and patient king, unlike the sons of Feanor. There was a high chance he would accept you despite your unique appearance. 

- This would cause you to feel conflicted and unsure how to act. You had many terrible experiences with royals and nobles from other houses. It felt like you were being forced to enter unknown territory as you did not know how elven nobles operated. 

- Freda, feeling sympathy for your confliction, would then reveal that there was a witch, who lived deep in the woods. She explained how the woman specialized in strange potions and might have a potion that could hide your scales. 

- You would feel uncertain about the idea since your birth mother dealt with witchcraft and potions that caused the premature death of your half-siblings. However, having a time limit and needing something to hide your scales from Fingon’s father, you asked Freda to take you to meet this witch. 

- You and Freda arrived at the witch’s home, nestled deep within the woods. The witch herself was an odd woman. She apparently treated her potion-making as a business of sorts and saw you both as potential clients. Despite her rather unhinged behavior, she seemed harmless enough for you to reveal yourself and request a potion that would conceal your dragon-like features.

- She became highly fascinated by you, holding your hands and marveling at the scales on your skin. She assured that making the potion would not be an issue. She offered to lower the price significantly if you provided her with a few of your scales, as dragon scales were a rare and valuable ingredient for her.

- Despite feeling unsettled by her strange fascination, you accepted the offer. You handed over a small number of your scales, and in return, she emerged with a potion in hand. Using your scales as a key ingredient, she crafted the potion to mask your features. She instructed you to drink it before bed for the effects to take hold by morning and warned you to avoid fire, as it would cause your scales to reappear.

- You thanked her, paid her, and bid her farewell with your potion in hand. 

- Initially, you hesitated to try the potion. In common sense, you should never drink any strange substance without knowing the side effects. However, your courtship with Fingon was at risk and you needed something to hide your scales from his father. So, you drank the potion. 

- The taste was unpleasant, especially when you technically drank something with your own scales in it. However, when you didn’t feel any different, you went to sleep – anxious to know what you would find in the morning. 

- When the morning arrived,  you woke up to a shocking sight. 

- Your scales are gone. Your pupils were normal and your nails were no longer claws. All that remained were your white hair and purple eyes, common features of a Targaryen. You… looked normal. 

- Ioreth was startled when she saw you. You then explained what happened and that you took a potion to hide your scales. You became fascinated with your new appearance as it felt like you had become someone unknown. It made you wonder how different your life would have been if you had been born like this. 

- Ioreth scolded you for drinking strange potions. However, when you explained your situation, she was understanding but uttered how you should not have done such a risky thing. 

- You now felt more confident in meeting Fingolfin. 

- Fingon was shocked when he saw you. You excitedly told him about the potion and that you could meet his father without fear now. Fingon did not approve the idea of using potions to hide yourself. You have technically risked yourself to possible side effects and he liked you the way you are. 

- His reaction was not something you hoped for, but you explained that you would keep this appearance to meet his father and gain his approval, and then perhaps return the way you are.

- Fingon accepted your proposal with reluctance. He was not keen on the idea of lying or keeping disguises, but since you were now confident enough to meet his father, he kept quiet about it. 

- After telling Meraxes that you would be gone for a while and making preparations, you and Fingon set out to his home. 

- It was nerve-wracking when you appeared publicly without your cloak or veil. Some elves looked at you when you passed them, most likely due to your white hair and purple eyes being unique among humans. However, this time, you felt fine with it. Bright hair and purple eyes were common in your family. 

- You were nervous about meeting Fingon’s father. However, with Fingon’s assurance, you kept a brave face and entered his home. 

- Fingon’s father, Fingolfin, was what you expected of an elven king. He was tall and shared similar features with Fingon, except older and wiser. It seems you worried for nothing because he did not look at you with judgment like you expected but with curiosity and patience when you arrived and introduced yourself. 

- He was curious about your features as not many humans could possess such white hair and purple eyes like yours, so he guessed you are not originally from Beleriand. You expected this question and without issue told him that you are from a distant land and came to Beleriand to find a new home for yourself. 

- Your former training with etiquette might have kicked in as you then found it easy to converse with him. This did not go unnoticed by Fingolfin but he said nothing. 

- He asked about your and Fingon’s story and then you told him how you met, befriended each other, and eventually started courting. He seemed approving and even remarked about how you had been keeping Fingon out of trouble during your adventures, which caused Fingon to become flustered with embarrassment. 

- You released a small chuckle at Fingon’s reaction. Perhaps… Fingolfin was indeed more calm-headed than you thought. 

- Fingolfin then explained that even if Angband had been under siege for many years, it did not mean Morgoth could not re-appear and become a threat, so he wanted to be sure that his son did not end up courting the wrong person. Having now met you, he felt assured but explained the seriousness of what your courtship might bring since you were a mortal. He did not want to see his son suffer from heartbreak. You assured that you understood and Fingon added that he loved you and would not change his mind. 

- Fingolfin added that he knew Fingon’s mind was nearly impossible to change and as long as your courtship would not get in the way of Fingon's duties — he would allow it to continue. You thanked him for this. 

- He then invited you to stay in their home for a while, which you accepted. 

- In private, you felt relieved and Fingon smiled when he told you how he was right that his father would accept you and now you can continue your courtship. You chuckled at this and then his tone changed and he said it would have been alright if you arrived as your true self. 

- You disagreed with this, claiming this was safer. 

- You two would have a mild disagreement but then leave it as he would introduce you to his friends and people. 

- Despite being human, his friends and people were pretty welcoming. And you got to explore Fingon’s home more openly. It gave you a chance to use your Quenyan skills and his people were delighted that you shared such interest in their language. 

- You had fun. But then found out that the news about Fingon’s hidden courtship had spread some time ago. Some of Fingon's friends even placed bets, which made him feel embarrassed that he had not been so secretive as he thought. Some of his friends had seen you and knew Fingon had fallen for the red-cloaked maiden with diamonds on her skin. 

- Not only that, you discovered that Fingon had made a lovely song about you. He had made it in private and planned to play it for you but it got heard. The song was good and filled with adoration and it then didn’t surprise you why Fingon’s attempts in keeping your relationship secret didn’t work out. 

- You then enjoyed the rest of your day in your room. Fingon was happy that your relationship was approved, but then he became sad that you couldn’t meet any of his siblings. His youngest brother Argon had perished in a fight when they first arrived in Beleriand. Turgon had vanished, rumored to have built a hidden city somewhere, and his sister went with him. So, for many years, it had been just him and his father. 

- You felt pity since he clearly missed them. You do not know if you could share the same sentiment as none of your half-siblings survived their birth. Freda was perhaps the closest thing you had for a sister. 

- You pondered where your courtship would take from here now it was approved by Fingon’s father and most people. He was not certain. However, since you were technically hiding your true self, he would like them to know you. 

- You did not like the idea and left it be for the night. 

- Upon the next day of your visit, you joined Fingolfin for breakfast and he asked questions. You got along with him and Fingon was happy. Fingolfin then questioned about your family and pointed out how you were well educated in royal etiquette for someone from a common ground. 

- This made you mildly panic, but you then shared half the truth that you were from a noble house and that you were technically banished because of who your father was. Fingolfin seemed sympathetic and believed the truth. To him, no child should be punished because of the actions of their parents. 

- You felt glad that he believed you, even though it was only one of the reasons why you left your home. 

- This continued for a few days. You got to know Fingon’s father and his people. Fingon tried to coax you into telling more about yourself and little by little, you did. You indirectly told them about Meraxes who was a dear friend of yours. However, Fingon did not succeed in making you come out as your real self. 

- This caused disagreements as you could not understand why Fingon would not accept your normal look. Everything was going so well. 

- Then one day, you were invited to join a ride with Fingon. You had improved your skills in riding horses, so you accepted and even got to meet some of Fingon’s cousins who were polite to you. 

- But then, one moment, you were joking and conversing with one of Fingon’s people, then you glanced at your hand and saw some of your scales peaking out beneath your skin. You panicked at the sight of them but kept calm and got yourself gloves to hide them. 

- It had been some days since you took the potion, so its effects were probably wearing off. 

- You managed to pull Fingon somewhere private and tell him what was happening. You did not know how much time you had, but you needed to get back home before anyone could see your scales. For the last time, he tried to coax you into telling his father about your unique condition. He understood why you feared showing yourself, but you couldn’t keep hiding forever. 

- Memories of your life in your Westeros crossed your mind and you remembered all the glances and criticizing looks you had endured all your life in your father’s court. To them, you had always been a freak of nature. Then images of Fingon’s father and people looking at you the same way crossed your mind. No. You could not endure it again and refused. 

- This would cause you and Fingon to argue. Fingon claimed you allowed your fear and past to hold you back and you felt angry because he never lived a life you lived. At least, he was born normal in his kind standards. In your life, you were always seen as your father’s living abomination. 

- Your argument would then be stopped by Meraxes who suddenly came out of hiding, having hidden behind trees. Her appearance would startle you, but you would not be surprised that she managed to come to you unnoticed as she was pretty stealthy for a dragon. However, when she looked at you and grumbled through your bond, you would stop and realize she was there to warn you of a danger. 

- Fingon noticed the shift in you and asked what was wrong. You then explained Meraxes’s behavior and that she was warning you of danger. This unsettled Fingon as he then asked what she was warning you about. 

- “Well… she only acts this way when there’s another dragon nearby,” you explained, then your eyes widened when you realized. 

- However, it was too late when you two heard alarms in the camp. You two quickly returned and found it being attacked by what seemed to be a wild drake. 

- Fingon told you to stay put as he went to help his people. You watched anxiously from the side at the chaos. Fingon helped his father as the drake tried to aim for him. Luckily, Fingolfin was unharmed and the two retreated trying to organize their people. 

- Fingon hopped onto his horse as he and his men were ready to take on the drake but then the creature swiped its tail, sending Fingon and his horse flying and hitting hard against a stone hill. This made you gasp as his horse died from the hit, and he was stuck from the weight. 

- When the drake wasn't looking, you ran to Fingon. His leg was broken and stuck beneath his dead horse. Luckily, with your strength, you managed to push the dead horse off him and pull him free. However, the drake then turned its eyes toward you and lunged at you with its sharp teeth. 

- In quick reflex, you punched the drake in its tender spot in its snout. You used enough force to cause it to yelp and pull back. 

- This gave you the chance to pick Fingon and carry him as he couldn’t run. But then, you saw the drake’s chest glow and realized it was going to release its breath on you. 

- Fingon pleaded for you to run. However as there was no time for either of you, you set him down, covered him in your cloak, and kept him close to your body so you would endure the full brunt of the drake’s flames. 

- The drake then released its breath upon you, drowning you and everything around you in its flames. 

- Fingolfin and his people watched in horror when they saw you both get taken by the flames. 

- But then, as the drake's breath subsided, instead of finding your scorched remains, you stood there—your cloak and the backside of your clothes burned, revealing your bare back and skin now shimmering with white scales. You uncovered Fingon, who coughed out the smoke from his lungs. Your body and now-charred red cloak had shielded him enough to save him from the drake’s flames, leaving him with only mild burn wounds. 

- You both fell to the ground, shocked that you survived.

- “I… “ Fingon started, looking at you with shock and marvel. “I did not know you were immune to the flames,”

- “Nor did I,” you said. 

- You then turned to his father and the gathered people, all staring at you in shock. With a sigh, you realized the illusion was broken—they now saw the real you.

- Your gaze then shifted to the drake, which regarded you with a mix of confusion and fear. It had likely sensed the other half of your nature.

- Meraxes reached out to you through your bond. You knew only she could defeat the drake with ease. 

- Fuck it. 

- “[Attack, Meraxes!]” you commanded in your mother tongue. 

- Meraxes leaped out from the trees, plunging her teeth and talons into the drake. The drake shrieked at her sudden appearance and tried to fight her, but due to her being bigger — she overpowered the smaller drake easily. 

- You all watched the dragons fight until Meraxes eventually broke the drake’s neck with her teeth, letting the drake fall dead to the ground. 

- You then took a deep breath when all the attention was on you. Meraxes watched cautiously till you ordered her to step back. 

- Fingolfin inquired about your well-being, and Fingon quickly reassured him that he was mostly unharmed. Though ready to defend you, Fingon hesitated as you gently held him back, insisting that you would explain everything yourself.

- You then revealed the truth to Fingolfin—who you truly were, that Meraxes belonged to you and that your scales were something you had been born with.

- Bracing yourself for judgment or disgust, you instead found sympathy in his gaze. After a brief pause, he spoke, stating that since you had risked your own life to save Fingon, he had no reason to mistrust you. He admitted that he had long suspected there was more to you than met the eye, though he had not anticipated the scales—or the dragon.

- He said you had proved yourself to be a friend and thus be welcomed by his people. 

- You didn’t know whether to cry from relief or joy at the acceptance you never expected. A tear may have slipped unknowingly, and Fingon only smiled, reminding you that he had told you so—though he admitted he had been just as worried about his father’s reaction.

- This was certainly not how you had expected your week to go.

- After receiving a cloak to cover you and taking time to recover, you returned to Fingon’s home, where he was allowed to rest and heal. News of the incident spread quickly, and people now looked at your shimmering scales with awe. Meraxes, though keeping her distance from the city, remained close to you. Word of your identity as a princess from a distant land sent shockwaves through the people, even reaching Freda and her family, who wrote letters—more surprised by the fact that you were a princess with a dragon than anything else. But for the first time, you felt no fear of their reactions, thanks to Fingolfin.

- Many elves now looked at you as if you were some kind of spirit, a being who had protected their prince from Morgoth’s drake. For once, you couldn’t entirely blame them—even you hadn’t known you could endure fire unscathed.

- During Fingon’s recovery, you shared your past with Fingolfin, who listened with surprising understanding. There was even sadness in his eyes as he learned about the life you had lived. He assured you that, despite your differences from other humans, your actions spoke louder than appearances. No creature or spy of Morgoth would go to such lengths to save his son. He had seen stranger things in his lifetime, but your bravery and loyalty were undeniable.

- For the first time, you felt truly accepted. Fingolfin even helped you see your scales in a different light, making you understand that they were not a curse but a part of who you were—something to be grateful for rather than ashamed of.

- Your life would have been vastly different without them. Without your scales, Ceryse would not have been your mother, and the life you might have lived instead would have been far worse. You may never have come to Middle-earth at all. With this realization, you began to look at your scales with less shame and more acceptance.

- Fingon was happy to see you come to this conclusion. He did, however, feel bad about your mother’s gift—the red cloak—having been ruined in the fire. But strangely, you didn’t feel upset. It was a relic of your past, and perhaps it was time to let it go.

- Red had always suited you, but if you were being honest, it had never been your favorite color.

- You and Fingon made amends, and it felt as if your courtship had taken on a new light. He hoped his people would grow accustomed to both you and Meraxes, and he suggested that perhaps you could start living with him—to be closer. The thought gave you pause. You knew how to live the life of a royal, yet your heart still longed for the simplicity of a common life. You send letters to Freda and Ioreth, asking for their advice. They sent a reply and their advice to you was to stay where you felt most happy. It made you think and decide that place was beside Fingon. 

- Fingolfin welcomed your decision, having already seen the depth of your love for his son. He assured you that among his people, you would be treated with fairness and respect. And though the rules forbade marriage during wartime, if the siege held and your courtship continued to flourish, he promised to keep an open mind should you and Fingon wish to wed.

- The idea excited you, as you could not imagine marrying anyone but Fingon. However, the two of you agreed to wait and see what the future would bring.

Taglist: @foggyturtleknightangel @carlgrimessimp

[eri-pl]

I don't care about a "reader x character" fics, I want educational "reader & character" fics!

(More educational than fluff)

I want a "Feanaro teaches you Quenya" fic. Including complaining about "th", the Valar, Fingolfin and stuff. But mostly it's a language course.

I want a "Finrod teaches you the geography of Beleriand" because I can't learn it in any other way.

If I had more dopamine, I would do a "Maglor teaches you basic music theory (and before that, the underlying maths)" or "(whatever fun character would fit here) teaches you classical geometry".

Also, I would love a "Miriel teaches you textile crafts" YT channel where someone does educational content in full cosplay and in-character. Including frequent mentions of her death and complaining on Finwe. But mostly it's textile arts. Also, fourth wall is optional and of course she's got a sewing machine or whatever.

And so on and so forth.

[silmkinkmeme]

Prompts 2022 Fest - Week 10

Continuing reposting dreamwidth prompts

celebrimbor & sons of feanor, gen, time travel

Prompt Rating: T

Prompt: Here's a prompt: feanorian time travel au. But the priorities have changed. In the halls they watched Celebrimbor's torment. They received his spirit. And they watched it find no healing, year after year. By the time caranthir figures out a way to change the weave of time, they are all in agreement.

So, whatever time they arrive in, every son of feanor drops what they're doing and goes to rescue (/kidnap) Celebrimbor. (For context, celebrimbor does not, at this point in the timeline, need rescuing - the torture has not started.) The sons of feanor are united in this purpose. The valar did not know that the time travel was possible and don't know what they've done; as far as outside observers can tell, feanorian priorities all just…turned on a dime.

That's all exposition for the meat of this thing: celebrimbor being (lovingly, so lovingly) kidnapped and more or less held prisoner by his kin. They won't tell him why they're doing this and they won't let him go. He can't be properly angry because they're so careful of him, he can see their worry - but he's not free to go and they won't tell him why!

Kinda just want a glimpse into the emotional minefield a time travel fix it for celebrimbor would actually be. The scars of a thing that hasn't actually happened now still exerting their pull, if you understand me. Strange family fluff where the only person not traumatized by how celebrimbor dies is…celebrimbor.

dreamwidth link

gen feanor&finwe, fingolfin

Prompt Rating: T

Prompt: au where Feanor's insecurity and deep pain over the remarriage comes out in a different way: finwe is telling him about a cute moment between indis and fingolfin, trying so hard to include him in the family dynamic, and feanor just starts crying. The really ugly kind.

He's heartbroken, and he's never going to accept indis, and all of a sudden of that pain comes out.

Of course finwe will start crying, too… what he intended and what has happened are so far from each other and he doesn't know what to do. He loves all his children and always wanted a big family, but it seems everyone is walking around wounded due to his actions and he can't fix it. He can't regret his children by indis, but feanor's pain kills him.

It can be between them, or other people can be involved, like Fingolfin. I just want to see this family drama go in a more usual direction, rather than the kinslayings. Do not want character bushings of anyone; it's a sticky situation where a lot of people have a lot of very legitimate pain, but no one is acting maliciously. No incest. And please don't resolve it by having feanor view Indis as a mother. I think he could learn to stop solely blaming her for what was both her and finwe's decision, but she's never going to be his mother. And that's okay.

dreamwidth link

Sauron/Ar-Pharazôn - consent dead dove, noncon tw

Prompt Rating: E

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Prompt: Ar-Pharazôn likes to fuck his prisoner Sauron, and he uses some method (aphrodisiacs, sex pollen, edging, weird Númenorian tech, whatever) to force Sauron to enjoy it, because that's the most humiliating thing he can think of as punishment for the "Lord of the Earth": to fall so far as to enjoy being raped by the man who defeated him. (And of course, Ar-Pharazôn humiliates him throughout, insulting him and forcing him to be in degrading positions, etc.)

Unbeknownst to him, though, Sauron is completely (or mostly) unaffected, and is carefully pretending to have his pride broken to earn Ar-Pharazôn's trust. He may cry and blush and shake with humiliation, but it's all an act to convince Ar-Pharazôn that he's no longer a threat.

Bonus points (not required):

Sauron POV

Past Angbang in a fucked up BDSM relationship. In his mind, Sauron keeps comparing Ar-Pharazôn to horrible, non safe, sane or consensual things Melkor would do to him, and wishing Ar-Pharazôn knew how to be as cruel as Sauron craves. He's actually annoyed to sub to an incompetent dom!

Krabat on twitter has the hottest art ever, and her Ar-Pharazôn is actually who I'm imagining, so if you want to incorporate that as an inspiration:

https://twitter.com/Krabat__/status/1504836380962164737

finrod dom/sub polyamory cumdump

Prompt Rating: E

Prompt: elves take a long time to finish during sex. Beor and his men solve this problem by making finrod the group slut. They can all fuck him at least once before he cums.

DNW noncon, scat, water sports, gore, violence, injury.

To see all 474 prompts, please visit the kinkmeme's Ao3 collection. Don't forget to give some love to the authors of our 205 works. Check out also our Prompt Post 1 on dreamwidth for prompts and fills not posted on Ao3, to ask any clarifying questions to the prompters or just to squeal under the prompts you loved.

[elronds-library]

The Rescue Party

by AeolianSands

Fingolfin wakes up in Mandos to a very impatient Feanor, who immediately drags him into his escape plan. Finarfin gets roped into this growing disaster, and all three must find their way back to Middle Earth and save their children before the Doom of Mandos closes in on them all.

General, No Archive Warnings

Words: 180,657

[celebenarinya]

Hi, guys!

Welcome to (yet another) Silm blog: of mostly Feanor, Maedhros, Baby Elrond, Fingolfin, and maybe Celebrimbor.

I do #SILMARILLION: BUT IT'S A MEDIEVAL MANUSCRIPT. This is primarily what the requests are for!!!!

Will do both deadly serious paintings as well as silly fluff Silm art.

If you would like it all to be ORGANIZED, then go here: Pinterest

If you want an original fairy tale or two, go here: Celeben Arinya | Substack

Please note: If you love my art SO MUCH and want to use it, PUT MY NAME WITH IT OR ELSE you will answer for it at the Last Judgement :D Also send me the thing you made with it. I soooooo want to see what you fellow creatives make with it.

Love you all!

Celeben <3

[felagund-the-valiant]

Masterlist

Argon

Big Hands and Tiny Paws - 578 words - tags: gn!reader, fluff

Beleg

In All Shapes and Sizes - 612 words - tags: gn!reader, fluff

Caranthir

SFW Alphabet

Curufin

Your Father's Son - 1.3k words - tags: gn!reader, Curufin has a bit of an identity crisis, fluff Broken Bonds - 1.4k words - tags: f!reader, hurt/no comfort

Fingon

All I Want Is You - 1.1k words - tags: gn!reader, best friends to lovers, first kiss Office Shenanigans (NSFW) - 1.5k words - tags: f!reader, smut, semi-public sex A Heavy Crown - 992 words - tags: f!reader, hurt/comfort, mention of canon character death SFW Alphabet Drunk On Love - 1.2k words - tags: gn!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, fluff

Finrod

Birthday Delights - 712 words - tags: gn!reader, fluff, mild nsfw mentions/suggestive content Bring Back What Once Was Mine - 1k words - tags: gn!reader, mix of fluff and angst, mention of canon character death

Galdor

General hcs Procrastination Troubles - 1.1k words - tags: f!reader, fluff, unintentional secret dating, sibling's best friend trope

Glorfindel

Having a crush on a reader who's friends with Ecthelion

Maeglin

Lessons in Intimacy (NSFW) - 2.1k words - tags: f!reader, smut, first time

Group hcs

Hobbies they like to share with you (Maedhros, Caranthir, Fingon, Turgon) Hair hcs for the House of Fëanor | Fingolfin | Finarfin