#iron handed (angrod)

[descendantsoffinwe]

“‘Goldo will be sad if Amarië doesn’t go”

(@fellfire)

"He'd also be sad when she dies." Angrod crossed his arms. "What's your point."

[sallysavestheday]

Tolkien Family Week #2

For @tolkienfamilyweek's Day 2 prompt (siblings), have 100 words of Aegnor and Angrod.

Middle children squeezed between exceptional siblings, Angrod and Aegnor curl early into each other’s confidences; they braid their more ordinary hearts together as a shield against comparison. Neither as graceful as Finrod nor as proud as Galadriel, both lack the drive of those family bookends to compete and achieve. But they are bright souls, swift to love and fierce in defense of those they care for. And there is no resentment: shining Ingo and brilliant Artanis are their pride. The hilly edges of Beleriand suit them, two strong hearts, on guard. The pines will remember them: Iron-hand and Sharp-flame, burning.  

[searchingforserendipity25]

Hi! I loved your Nolofinwean headcanons. 💛 for Arafinwean familial relationships? — @emyn-arnens

Thank you for the ask @emyn-arnens, I'm glad you enjoyed the Nolofinwëan ones! Here are some Unusual Arafinwëan familial headcanons:

orodreth is his mother's favorite, bar none. this is not a secret.

finarfin does not have favorites. this is a lie.

angrod leaves little of himself in history, but he is the happiest of them all, for as long as he does live.

he is the one who dies first, and the one who had been most certain he would die first. his last years are full of smoke creeping in the corners of his eyes, a paralyzing urgency. if only fingolfin had heeded him - if only their cousins could be bothered to stir from complacency -

he dies very bitter, bitterly satisfied. one things all chronicles agree on: he did tell them so.

finrod and finduilas share a love for sculpture. many of the carved colonnades of nargothrond were made by her hand; the style shows up, with some variations, in the avenues and streets of lindon.

aegnor and angrod go on a five-year adventure trip on the Ice with fingon. it takes eldritch beasts, five toes lost to frost burn, a long quest for rare healing ingredients for idril's recovery based on old, old songs from the Crossing for their friendship to be renewed, after alqualondë. they remain each other's dearest friends and among their most important people until the end.

galadriel thinks very little of nolofinwë's wishy-washy political approach to achieving power. if she had been second-in-line to finwë's throne, with the backing of the vanyar and well-established in the city, none of her brother's would have been able to keep her from orchestrating her rise to power.

finrod might have. but in the end finrod won and lost a realm well before she had one of her own, and there was little satisfaction in being the last, the wisest, the most enduring.

gil-galad and finarfin meet three times. this is long enough for them to discover they share the same eyes, the same sense of humor, the same principles of leadership. this does not improve anything, and in fact makes it considerably worse.

gil-galad and celebrimbor do not talk about nargothrond. the whole of their relationship consists of very pointedly not talking about nargothrond, while basing their political and personal stances on everything that once happened in a kingdom now long under the sea, where the only lady of the king's line spoke long into the night of philosophy and craft and unmarring the marred with the most promising young goldsmith of the noldor.

celebrían smells it, something. the ash, the smouldering stone dust. her nightmares are all of the bragollach; but she does not often remember them.

galadriel, whose mind perceives all, even the seeping dream-stuff of her daughter's sleep, lies awake in her talan many nights through, remembering what she does not.

celebrían does not see them, in captivity: finrod is made anew, aegnor chose enclosure in the dark of mandos till the end of the world. but she hears him, at times. her first-dead uncle, angrod the iron-handed, whispering to her through the fever of her torment - here the links of the chain are weakest, there the steel of her captor's mail might be rent by a sharp stone, clawing fingers, teeth.

a spark of her nails on the walls of the cave, and if she is clever, she can use a cut of her hair as fuel to feed a spark. orcs fear flames more than anything, more even than she does.

the queen receives many guests, but there are no spare rooms in eäwen's private quarters.

[arafinweanappreciation]

I don't know why but I love Orodreth being Ango's son. Because like Ango is named iron-handed and the dude probably has a temper that can rival the feanorians. But like what if this giant, hot, golden-haired dude, who is terrifying to fight in a battle, has a small son who is soft-spoken, loves books more than fighting, and generally keeps to himself. Like I can imagine Eldalote being protective of Orodreth, especially when they cross the ice.

ooooh yes. there are so many juicy angles to orodreth son of angrod (and gil-galad son of orodreth imo). both the parallel and contrast potential are nigh unmatched. (especially the angst of the soft-spoken "weak king" orodreth up against the image of his fierce, ever-strong father. does he feel like he's struggling to fill his shoes. does he feel like he's failing to preserve his memory. does he think he's disappointing him. I NEED TO KNOW)

[nothinghereisworking]

~~~Rarepair Appreciation~~~

Rarepairs are my absolute beloveds!  (as evidenced by my fic history lol)

After chatting with @herinke9 and following along with the anon asks I realized that many of these are so rare that nobody would even think to *look* for them.  So I decided to share some!  Who knows, maybe they’ll get popular? (ahaaahahahahaha)

Círdan | Nowë/Gandalf | Mithrandir

My Heart is with the Sea, My Heart is with You [Art] by @rauko-is-a-free-elf Beautiful art!

My Heart is with the Sea, my Heart is with You by @chrissystriped Círdan has known and loved the Wanderer since the first age. When he hears of Gandalf's fall in Moria he resolves to find him and retrieve his body, if nothing else.

I Shall Await Thee by @cuarthol The fifth Istar, Olórin, sent by the Valar to Middle-earth to aid the free peoples against evil, has arrived in Mithlond, and to a reunion nobody had expected.

At Long Last, Love by alexcat Gandalf finally finds time for love.

Findis/Gandalf | Mithrandir

Birthright by @cuarthol - Mature But of Olórin that tale does not speak; for though he loved the Elves, he walked among them unseen, or in form as one of them, and they did not know whence came the fair visions or the promptings of wisdom that he put into their hearts. In later days he was the friend of all the Children of Ilúvatar, and took pity on their sorrows; and those who listened to him awoke from despair and put away the imaginations of darkness. - The Silmarillion, JRR Tolkien

Yep, there’s still only the one in this tag!

Dírhavel & Maglor | Makalaurë

Illuminating Now and Dark Hath-been by @polutrope Two great bards meet during the Sack of Sirion.

Thee one and only place to read this pair!

Curufin | Curufinwë/Eöl

Iron Cleaver by @polutrope - Mature Eöl is ill-at-ease after an encounter with the first Elf to elude his piercing mind. That there is much to link him and Curufin, including their shared craft, a friendship with the Dwarves, and the fact he carries a knife made of Eöl's metal, only unsettles - and allures - him all the more.

Shining Black by @skyeventide - Explicit The forest of Nan Elmoth is warded by magic and, apparently, inhabited. Celegorm and Curufin head into the woods, discovering who exactly lives in it. A "dark elf", who is a blacksmith. And is friends of the dwarves, and speaks Khuzdul. Curufin camps outside of the forest, to check that trade with the dwarves isn't disrupted by the encounter -- and to see if perhaps he could learn more about the enchantments that protect this land, and about its dweller.

Heart of Sugar and Lemon by eldvarpa Eöl and Curufin (and Celebrimbor) meet for the last time (but not exactly as canon would have it).

Do not ask for permission by Kalendeer - Explicit It was a Khazad key, big and heavily decorated with geometrical patterns. This one was not mine and it was in the pocket nearest to where Curufin had been, but I could not begin to guess what it was doing there until I fully took the key in my hand and the spell was triggered.Do not ask for permission, Curufin's voice whispered in my ear, and I wondered at the game he wanted me to play.

Fëanorian Hospitality by peachBitch1 - Mature A slightly different version of Curufin and Eöl's meeting in Himlad.

Go Upon Your Knee by havisham - Mature  “Heaven-gates are not so highly arched / As princes' palaces; they that enter there /

Must go upon their knees.”

Angrod | Angaráto/Fingon | Findekano

Keep Moving, Keep Warm by @cuarthol - Mature Angaráto's strength begins to fail him upon the Helcaraxë, until Findekáno is able to coax both life and warmth back into him.

A Golden Opportunity by @cuarthol Sure, it's easy for Findekano to find Angaráto in a crowd, he stands out like a shining beacon. But how is Angaráto supposed to find Findekano in a sea of generally dark-haired Noldo?

To The Victor Go The Spoils by @cuarthol Finde ends up with a greater prize than he ever bargained for after he wins the archery tournament.

Caranthir | Morifinwë/Galadriel | Artanis AND Angrod | Angaráto/Curufin | Curufinwë

Shall I Teach Thee? by Elves_Behaving_Badly - Explicit The grandchildren of Finwë seem to get up to an awful lot, even especially with one another.

The one and only for both of those pairings

Finduilas Faelivrin/Nellas

A Settlement by Elleth Finduilas, Niënor and Nellas all live on Amon Obel. Entanglements are inevitable.

Rhythm of the Night by amyfortuna (elwinfortuna) - Explicit Elemmírë performs at a secret festival in honour of Vána and Nessa, and is transported into bliss.

We Made Our Own by @cuarthol Finduilas has accompanied Finrod on a visit to Doriath, but she is soon drawn out into the forest to explore the land of hidden enchantments.

Elu Thingol | Elwë Singollo/Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë

As Flowers From the Sky by ajf - Explicit In the wake of the Quenya ban, a diplomatic mission to Doriath is arranged under cloak of secrecy. Two kings in Beleriand, one new and one old, have a volatile encounter.

Alliances and Dalliances by Elves_Behaving_Badly - Explicit After Mereth Aderthad, Ñolofinwë receives an unexpected invitation to Doriath. How far will he go to secure an alliance with the Sindarin king?

***

If you know of other rarepairs, please add at least the tag so we can go look at them!

🥰 Keep Making Those New Tags! 😎

[emyn-arnens]

How about Aegnor and warmth for the writing prompts?

Aegnor & Angrod, 1.1k

The sounds of the coals popping in the iron braziers, the fire crackling in the hearth, and the soft scratching of Angrod’s quill filled the silence of the room as Aegnor polished his armor. The pleasant warmth of the room and the monotony of his task might have lulled him into comfortable quietude, but for the thoughts that warred within him and turned his mind this way and that.

Across the room, Angrod pushed away the small pile of correspondence he had responded to and turned to collect the mending he had set aside earlier, examining his previous stitches. 

Aegnor hesitated, the words that he wanted to say crowding on the tip of his tongue even as his mind urged him to stay silent. Stalling, he held his breastplate up to the light of the fire and watched the reflection of the firelight flicker upon its burnished surface.

“You wish to say something,” came Angrod’s voice from the other side of the room. “Speak.”

Aegnor sighed and lowered the breastplate to look at his brother. “Do I wear my thoughts so plainly?”

The corner of Angrod’s mouth curved as he threaded his needle. “You were polishing with more vigor than the task demands.”

Aegnor set the breastplate aside, using the moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke. “How did you know that you wished to marry Edhellos—that what you felt for her could not be mistaken for aught else, and that you must either act upon it or forever rue not doing so and think ever of what might have been?”

Angrod regarded him over the sleeve of the tunic he mended. “Do you ask because of Boromir’s eldest daughter, Andreth the Wise-woman?”

Aegnor’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Have I worn my affections plainly, too?”

“Not to others, but I know you better than any other,” Angrod said, returning to his mending. “I have seen your eye upon her at the feasts, and you have spent much of this visit out upon the heaths and hidden in the woods. Doubtless you know better how the birds and beasts of Dorthonion fare than how its people do.” Though he jested, his voice was warm.

But all mirth faded as he looked at Aegnor again, and his voice when he spoke now was no louder than the popping of the coals or the crackling of the fire. “But I need not tell you that such a union would end in great grief, Aikanáro. There is no painless friendship between Eldar and Edain, much less the deep love of marriage.” Angrod’s gaze was gentle and compassionate. “Though she is young now, Andreth’s years are few, and the grief of the sundering would be fast on the heels of whatever brief joy you may find together.”

Aegnor smiled sadly. “That I well know, and it is that which complicates the matter, for I know my heart and what it would have me do, but that which I know in my heart is tempered by the voice of my mind, telling me that such desires should never be.”

Angrod watched Aegnor but said nothing, and his silence encouraged Aegnor to continue.

“I had thought that I would never marry, for my heart turned toward none in my youth, and the grief of the kinslayings and the bitter crossing drove any such concerns wholly from my mind. I was content with guarding the leaguer and protecting these lands, but now I find myself at a crossroads, and I do not know in which direction I should turn.” Aegnor twisted the polishing wax in his hands. “My heart tells me that I should not squander what I have found, nor the short time that love lays to my hand, but my mind tells me that the grief such a course would bring would be my ending. 

“And were I to follow my heart’s bidding, where should I take her?” He moved to stand in front of the fire and clutched at the mantle, peering into the flames. “North to the siege and draw her nearer to danger, or flee to the east or south and so leave everyone I and she hold dear? Were I to do so, the guilt of not holding to what has been entrusted to me would dog my heels even in the short time of joy I would have while Andreth lives, and yet were I to choose my duty, I could not escape the guilt of forsaking what has grown between us. The choice before me is bitter and full of woe, and I must lose something I cherish in the choosing."

Aegnor fell silent for a moment, and the snapping of the fire filled the silence. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “I know what Andreth would wish for me to choose, and I would choose it though it bring me grief until the breaking of the world, but for the warning in my heart that the leaguer will not hold, and my presence will be needed at the front ere her years have run their course.

"If the leaguer broke during her twilight years, it would grieve me beyond words to leave her alone and unaided, defenseless and dependent on the goodwill of others in the midst of great danger. Better it would seem to take her away from the north, but were I to do so, I would have the blood of all Dorthonion on my hands.” Aegnor closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the mantle, and he heard Angrod's soft step move toward him.

Angrod was silent for a long moment, and his voice, when he spoke, was quiet. “I can give you no wise counsel, Aikanáro, for I have no wisdom in this matter, nor, I deem, do any of our people, for such love has never existed between Eldar and Edain, nor, perhaps, was it ever meant to. But such words do not ease the burden of such a choice, nor do they bring comfort.” 

Angrod turned and clasped his brother’s shoulder. “So I will say this instead: Know that whatever choice you make, I will help you bear the burden of it, as I can, for it is a burden and grief none should bear alone.”

Aegnor placed his hand over Angrod’s. “That is a comfort greater than words could provide.”

crossposted to AO3 | send me a character and a prompt and get a ficlet

[dalliansss]

So you told me you took prompt again but take all the time you need!

I would love either some crown of thorns or baby Aegnor <3

-- PappayeGod

the largesse of the sea maiden.

don't talk. you'll ruin everything.

Curufinwë strode down the hallway with such a vehement anger on his face, that everyone who remembered him that day would say that, that moment, he was very much akin to Fëanor than he ever will be.

Nargothrond is his; he has succeeded with his long and meticulous planning, and earlier that night, the final piece had fallen into place. The Houses of Nargothrond -- both the Eldar and Edain ones, have clamored to oust their own king, forgetting, for a moment, through the sweet poison of Curufin's words -- that Finrod Felagund found them a safe haven, and secured that safe haven for four hundred, unbroken years. The aristocrats had many excuses: malcontent, mainly from the Eldarin houses -- because Finrod had long flouted norms and societal expectations ever since setting foot on Beleriand. To openly stop wearing his betrothal ring was a great affront, especially to the lords of many houses, who have made the journey with him, and who have seen him as a young elf in Aman. This, and Finrod's profound refusal to take a proper wife, sire proper heirs -- leaving Nargothrond insecure. It was no big feat to realize and understand that Artaresto was unpopular; too soft, indecisive, too easily malleable. Nargothrond and the lords wanted someone strong; as strong as Finrod had been, before grief from Angrod and Aegnor's demise wormed its way into his heart, and chipped away the iron composure a King was supposed to have.

And now the Adan.

Curufin snarled at the guards and they let him pass, and he throws open the double doors leading to Finrod's chambers. They slam shut behind him. There is a fire in the hearth, and no book, no ornament, no vase is out of place -- except perhaps the second set of double doors leading to the main bedchamber is open. Curufin strode toward it with purpose.

And there he finds him: the lover he betrayed; the lover he stole realm, people and crown from -- the lover whom he bedded despite his relentless politicking, the lover he kissed despite his insidious plans, despite his conspiracies and treacheries with the Houses of Ruby, Sapphire, Turquoise, Chalcedony and Lapis.

Finrod, sitting there on the floor, packing a satchel for a trip -- golden hair unbound and streaming behind him. Curufin clenched his hands into fists. He knows that Finrod knows he is here, but the golden one won't face him.

(And Curufin can still hear the dull clang of the silver, serpent-flower crown of Nargothrond made when Finrod cast it on the floor of the throneroom. Aside from the oath this sound will echo in his mind many years later. It will keep awake through the night, will haunt his most terrible nightmares. He will see Finrod wearing it; Finrod, his body mangled, his stomach torn open, and he is extending blood and guts toward Curufin in silent offer, and the crown of Nargothrond is on his head, the only part of him not stained red by--)

Finrod picks up a dagger. He unsheathes the blade, inspects it by the light of the candle, and sheathes it again. Before it can go into his satchel, Curufin crosses the distance and catches him by the wrist.

"Don't talk," Finrod says, and he does not even give Curufin the satisfaction of looking at him. His hand, his wrist, is limp in Curufin's hold, and Curufin wants to crush his wrist. "You'll ruin everything."

But Curufin pulls Finrod into his hold, and he lets go like he has never let go before, since Fëanor burned. The tears that stream from his silver eyes are crystal clear, and in his head, the Oath is a thousand scratches and clicks, insects, legion, tormenting him, calling him to action, blotting out everything else. Everything, except for his terrible desire to keep Finrod here, keep him here, even if it meant to kill him, prevent him from fulfilling the thrice-damned Oath those Edain never deserved.

(Rats. Rats they were, these Secondborn, opportunists, weaklings.)

"No one has to leave, Ingoldo," Curufin whispers fiercely, clutching Finrod to him how a man might cling to a rock against the tide, to prevent himself from being swept away to the point of no return. "Stay with me. Stay here. You do not need to honor your word over the likes of that scum. It was not the aid your oath contemplated. Let him attempt his foolish errand. Do not die for some miserable creature's lust. Do not. Do not ask me to let you go."

Finrod leans into his hold. It is as if one of those countless evenings, in the bliss of Nargothrond, where they sat here on this very same floor, just like this, Curufin cradling his golden one in his arms as they exchanged sweet nothings, and Finrod caresses his cheek just like this, with a soft touch, and Curufin kisses his fingertips, his palm, his wrist.

"If this is a chance to save you," Finrod whispers. "And save you all, then I will take it."

Curufin's face crumples. He sobs outright, burying his face into that golden hair he loves. There's no saving us, Ingoldo. Don't you see? We doomed ourselves. We can not get out. We can not escape.

He feels Finrod kiss his hair.

Spare Artaresto. Spare Findi. Spare her, above all.

Curufin grips Angrist by the hilt. His mind plays how this should have gone: He unsheathes his dagger, and as he held Finrod tenderly in his arms he slits his beloved's throat, and he holds him still as he bleeds out, as he chokes, as the light goes out of his lovely blue eyes. Curufin holds him there long after the terrible deed is done, and afterward, it will be his turn to take his own life. In Mandos, at least, they will be together.

But Curufin does not do it. He can not. He will not. In hindsight, perhaps he should have. Then Finrod would not have perished alone, a wretched death in the dark, forsaken by everything that he held dear.

[askandreth]

❛ you have no idea how much i like you. ❜ angrod to bregor ✨

"What's that?" Bregor looked up. He must have heard wrong, surely. Between the sizzling of the pan and the zoom of the fan, he was sure he had heard wrong.

@descendantsoffinwe

[eldamaranquendi]

Legendarium by https://www.deviantart.com/sakurainguyen96

1.  Lindon ( Gil-galad, Círdan, Elrond, Celebrimbor and his wife Eledhwen (OC))

2. Maglor

3. Fingolfin

4. Ecthelion

5. Indis Calima

6. Maedhros was giving the crown to Fingolfin in the Royal Palace at Hithlum, relinquished all claim as the heir of Finwë and made his Half Uncle the High King of the Ñoldor. (on the right side of the picture we have Turgon, Fingon and Aredhel and Celegorm. Then Amrod, Amras, Curufin, Caranthir, Maglor on the left side. And of course, Maedhros and Fingolfin in the middle. There also were Finrod, Galadriel, Angrod, Aegnor)

7. Penlod. Lord of the Houses of Snow and Pillar

8. Rog, Lord of the House of the Hammer of Wrath

"Who now shall fear the Balrogs for all their terror? See before us the accursed ones who for ages have tormented the children of the Noldoli, and who now set a fire at our backs with their shooting. Come ye of the Hammer of Wrath and we will smite them for their evil." Thereupon he lifted his mace, and its handle was long; and he made a way before him by the wrath of his onset even unto the fallen gate--J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien (ed.), The Book of Lost Tales Part Two, "III. The Fall of Gondolin"

9. Angrod the Iron-Handed

Angrod early developed hands of great strength and received the epessë Angamaitë which meangs 'iron-handed'.

10. Fingolfin

[kaia-art]

Angrod the Iron-Handed

My favorite one among the children of Finarfin. Angrod early developed hands of great strength and received the epessë Angamaitë which meangs 'iron-handed'. Reckless and aggressive like his brother Aegnor, but Angrod was truthful. What a pity he and his brother died too soon. 

Not to mention he is the grandfather of the great Gil-galad, who would become the Last High King of the Noldor

View more of my Simarillion fan arts HERE 

[descendantsoffinwe]

🌑 anga and beleg

Ever since the ice Angrod had never exactly felt 'warm enough', a chill sunk deep in his bones even when standing in the summer sun. It wasn't unusual to have a sibling climb into bed and so he thought nothing much of it as the mattress dipped.

Believing it was just Aika he rolled over, pressing his cold nose to Beleg's shoulder.

[thepinkseat-askthemoonbunny]

Some random ass headcanons about Earwen and her fam bcuz I got overwhelmed with Teleri royal family love suddenly and I wanted to share them with the world, so here it is.

Earwen and her several canon (tho unnamed) brothers:

Eärwen (“sea maiden”)- princess of the Teleri, High Queen of the Noldor, wife of Finarfin and mother of Finrod, Angrod, Aegnor and Galadriel. Only daughter and eldest child of Olwë, kickass diplomat and ambassador between the Teleri and Noldor while tensions between the two kindreds were still high. Raised her brothers and still rules those little shits with an iron fist to this very day, is still big mad about Alqualonde but finds some comfort in knowing her husband and kids didn’t fuck her over....is Calmo’s right hand bitch. Sassmaster supreme.

Herunen (“water lord”)- Also known as Hervo. Second child and eldest son, was next in line to become king but fell in battle during the attack on Alqualonde. Was a literal horse girl and participated in races ALL the time, often thought about just foregoing the crown and breeding horses on a farm somewhere. Somewhat lazy and thought “being king is too much work man”. Basically elf Shikamaru. Was a bit of a dick but loved his family to pieces even when picking on them (he wouldn’t pick on Earwen cuz she’d cut him)

Raumórë (“rising thunder”, because raumo technically means the noise of a storm)- Third child, second son. Raumo was quite adventurous and an up and coming naval admiral until the loss of his father and brother. Went mad with the grief of their deaths and became unfit to rule, his PTSD is so severe that he literally requires constant surveillance and care. Used to beguile his siblings with all the stories about the places he’s been, is Calmo’s favorite brother.

Calimeär (“bright sea, ocean of light”)- Calmo. Youngest child and current king of the Teleri bcuz Olwe faded from grief due to the tragedy of the First Kinslaying and the loss of so many of his people. A ball of anger and sadness and unprocessed emotions...would hunt Feanorians for sport if he had the time. Will attempt to murder you in your sleep if you had a part in the Kinslayings, crybaby and sassmaster extraordinaire (he got it from big sis), is sexually and emotionally frustrated, needs his mom. Loves fried oysters like candy, struggles a lot but does his best. Has zero chill whatsoever, a loyal friend and brother. Cries when the dog dies in every book/song/play.

[kendrixtermina]

Assorted House of Feanor Thoughts

I wrote this as a reply to someone, but then realized that this should be a post of its own. 

Line between extrapolation, interpretation & headcanon is going to be fluid here

Long post under cut

The seven sons in general:

all moody, fierce, intense and brilliant, each in various different ways

none of them can really stand to be cooped up in one place for long

F R E C K L E S you will not convince me otherwise

Apart from the ones explicitly described as pretty (ie, Maedhros and Celegorm) they’re actually relatively plain by elf standards, or at least sort of rugged-looking, especially compared to their part-Vanyar cousins - I mean, figures that some would turn out more like Miriel or Nerdanel both of which were supposedly more average.

all are very resourceful having spent most of their lives helping out with their parent’s projects, exploring the wilderness, or (save for Celegorm) hanging out in Aule’s halls. Most can probably whip up a steampunk or magitech solution to basic war-related problems

Because of this they’re a very tight-knit group

growing up, they did not know many children their age; Ironically the most contact they had was with their cousins because Feanor paid semi-regular visits to Finwe. Apart from Turgon (and Orodreth if you place him in the second rather than the third post-journey generation) the cousins really dug the adventure stories. (Galadriel pretended not to be interested and offered plenty of critiques, but listened anyways)

more survival skills and just a lot more casual than your average princes

They’d all been adults for a good while by the time of the rebellion; the twins are a tad older than Aredhel, Galadriel and Argon; Caranthir and Angrod are about the same age. Curufin is younger than Aegnor.

They all look back at that trip to the lightless shore of the outer sea as a cherished family memory

Also I don’t think Feanor disciplined his sons very much after all his own father let him get away with everything. In his eyes the brats can do no wrong especially not Curufin and to a lesser extent Amrod Nerdanel tried her best to counterbalance this and it kind of worked on some of them, but the three middle ones were a lost cause

I think a lot of the weight behind the oath comes from how Feanor made them promise him to see it through on his deathbed. It was his literal last wish.

Maedhros:

The Leader™, the most strong-willed and the deadliest fighter by a huge margin. What the orc under your bed has nightmares about.

Obviously a very competent diplomat, strategist, and the sort to put constructive results over personal glory; resilient, formidable, unpretentious and tough as leather

but not at all overconfident, and the type who is not blind to the flaws of the people he loves. He knows very well that Feanor wasn’t perfect and does many things that his father would not have agreed with - at the same time he has a strong sense of obligation, honor and loyalty which turns out to be his fatal flaw in the end when being loyal and keeping his word  increasingly requires him to do dishonorable things

if there was a definite breaking point it was the fiasco with Dior’s sons

Stoic but courteous and eloquent; From Finwe’s death onwards increasingly grim, grizzled and not very hopeful, though he’s the sort to give his all and try to be noble even when there’s no reward or even thanks or respect.

Despite this, he has as a dry sense of humor and at times uses it to defuse tense situations or disarm people he’s negotiating with (see the scene with Thingol’s message) - does have a streak of gallows humor to him especially after the Thangorodrim incident

As the heir Feanor actually let him in on trade secrets and scientific speculation; Their relationship is probably the most equal; I do think Feanor was capable of actually appreciating that Maedhros got a mind of his own and isn’t afraid to stand up for himself. Feanor values independent thought, even if he’s not always good at really living that value with his tendency to take things personally and see others as taking sides for or against him.  

Can’t really craft stuff to the same degree without his right hand. He then focussed on more abstract/mental pursuits which were perhaps his forte, to begin with but it still bothers him more than he lets on, especially since he still retains, or swiftly regained, his skill at making things dead. 

He may or may not qualify as a cinnamon roll but he definitely looks like could kill you

Maglor:

Maedhros might have been the token responsible sibling, but Maglor was the understanding, comforting one and always had a nurturing streak - hence why he was the one to take in the kids.

Sensitive Artistic Type™ - goes from quirky and passionate back in Valinor to melancholy & tormented as the war drags on

one of those people who despair over & get self-critical over their work even when it’s regarded as masterpieces

Like Feanor and Miriel before him, he tends to get super absorbed in his work/art and just plain disappears for days

Now some ppl hold that he didn’t start having second thoughts until near the end, but judging from how he comes along to Fingolfin’s party or to hang out with Finrod, I’d hold that he was always ‘the nice/gentle one’, but not solely in a positive way; Unlike Maedhros he did not stand up to Feanor about the thing with the ships and indeed lets Maedhros talk him out of turning himself in at the very end, so he’s probably somewhat lacking in assertiveness

Even so, he’s probably one of the better fighters, given the difficult territory he gets, that he’s the one to kill Ulfang, and how long he survives. He probably feels ambivalent about this. 

I imagine him having an agility-based fighting style

Probably codified the heroic epos as a specifically Noldorin art form

Celegorm:

A lot of ppl focus on the barbarian aspect, but I’d say he actually has some degree of ‘subverted prince charming’ going on, with how he sweet-talks Luthien at first before throwing her in the dungeon, and how he seems to have been one of the more accomplished ones, joining a respected order and all

He’s actually pretty elegant and perhaps playfully gallant, but it’s a facade; He’s an animal underneath; though his instincts are probably somewhat nobler than what ends up happening when he gets roped into Curufin’s schemes

usually, the first to react and leap into action when something happens.

Herculean strength, daunting presence

also a fairly efficient general, if a bit of a glory hound and pretty fearless in the pursuit of victory

very much has an ego and doesn’t like being humbled at all

Strikes me as the sort of person who would take badly to the realization that they can no longer return to the glory of the past or being judged unworthy, not that he’d respond with anything but defiance

Wrestles giant monsters barehanded

Always low-key wished to fight creatures of darkness before the rebellion to test his might against them; Orome and the Maiar members of the hunt would have told stories of them

though he gets his pretty face from Daddy, his strong build comes from Nerdanel, possibly somewhat accentuated by his being a dude

Caranthir:

grumpy, moody, no filter, likes his alone time, shows his feelings mostly through actions, also somewhat pragmatic

the quartermaster; Actually one of the smarter ones, if not outright the second smartest after Curufin, though he has more a logistic/administrative sort of intelligence

generally one of the more prosaic, practical family members, or maybe he’s just more subtle about his dramatic side or has a harder time expressing it. Definitely has Hidden Dephts™

I mean, putting your hideout on the slope of a mountain near a deep, dark lake circled by mountains? Goth AF. A+ aesthetic there.

Hosts the family get-togethers at his fortress. Has most certainly shoved Celegorm and Curufin in the lake at some point

has a certain respect for strength, valor and skill even in ppl he doesn’t necessarily like; Not at all diplomatic or polite, but also not finicky or fastidious, so actually forged a whole lot of alliances on a “everyone’s money/swords are equally good and we don’t have to set conditions” basis and seems to have been pretty successful at this

started out haughty but definitely learned to be more open-minded/ broaden his horizon over his time in Beleriand - but as no good deed goes unpunished, Ulfang happens

Whereas Curufin and Celegorm can put up a noble veneer but will totally stab you in the back if provoked, Caranthir’s sort of the opposite, in that he’s rude and quarrelsome on first contact but has a good heart deep down (see the Haladin incident) and doesn’t keep grudges long term once he’s done grumbling where Celegorm is sore loser and Curufin a spiteful twerp.

though personally, I don’t see Caranthir as trying to reign himself in. He wouldn’t really be known as “the harshest” in that case. Who was gonna teach him to behave himself, Feanor maybe? kek. 

Curufin:

We have a lot of actual dialogue & description for him - he has this characteristic little defiant smile, is often coldly contemptuous in tone, some level of ruthless pragmatism

has mild/vague foresight - nothing as impressive as what Finrod and Galadriel have, but he has it more or less to the degree that Feanor did.

actually pretty insightful, thought-through and political-minded in some ways, too bad he shares Feanor’s tendency for unwarranted suspicion and factionalism, as well as a tendency to just act on his own without checking with anyone

always either filthy from work or fully blinged-out and impeccably groomed, no in-between

more calculated and subtle than Feanor - not that Feanor ever needed calculation or subtlety since he could get by on sheer awe or intimidation. Celegorm and Maedhros have that same quality in spades and Curufin’s a little bit jealous

Not actually that much older than the twins, but always acted older than his age, especially once he heard that Feanor was the same

collects weapons, loves fancy horses, the most traditionally aristocratic of the seven

Got married relatively young; saw it as a matter of honor to further his family’s line

continued his scholarly pursuits in Beleriand; this is part of why he elected to share a territory with Celegorm

The last Celebrimbor ever heard of him was a magically sealed box filled with research notes he sent out in case he didn’t make it out alive

Did not take his parents’ estrangement well and is stubbornly salty toward Nerdanel (though deep down he misses her as much as his brothers if not more)

Frequently the Bad Influence/ Shoulder Devil to his brothers.

But when he gets excited about his research/craft he’s got this “exited cocky little boy” side to him that’s surprisingly pure. 

Only Nerdanel and possibly Celebrimbor’s mom are allowed to call him ‘Atarinke.’ His brothers might still use it when they’re teasing or scolding him. 

The Twins:

Every time a fic does something else with them than “generic prankster redheads” I cry with joy

We don’t have that many data points on them, but most of them suggest they’re every bit as fierce as their brothers

they’re somewhat aloof & mostly do their own thing;

As kids they’d mostly sit in a corner and play with each other. Possibly deliberately played up their identicalness as a kind of emo fashion statement / to fuck with people (”Should we do this Ambarussa?” - ”I don’t know, what do you think, Ambarussa?”)

never really gave up their semi-nomadic ways

Compared to Celegorm they probably more on stealth and precision than strength and bravado. They suddenly appear in front of you, and bam! You’ve got an arrow poking out of your face. Probably the ones scouting the perimeter of the camp.

Amras is a bit sassier, but it’s actually Amrod who’s a little bit braver.

Hardly ever argued until their parents’ estrangement; That led to quite a few quarrels between them.

For all his faults, Feanor made a point of doing things with each of them individually.

quietly nursing some level of pent-up despair and frustration until they push for the assault on Sirion

In the version where one of them dies, and then no one ever talks about it, - I imagine that the remaining one ended up cynical in a “let’s just get it ever with we’re already doomed after all’ kind of way

Bonus:

Celebrimbor

“Curiosity killed the cat but the second mouse gets the cheese” incarnate. He’s a sweet, excitable,  deeply good guy, but Curiosity is the strongest force within him, besides maybe “think of the potential”

very bold in his thinking, not held back by any conventional boundaries. This is partially why he ended up more independent than his father and uncles but ironically that might in a sense make him more similar to grandpa than any of them

Really looks like Feanor. Like, Arwen and Luthien level of resemblance. It takes ppl a bit to notice because of how different his general demeanor and surface-level personality is. 

Very scattered and absent-minded, prone to sudden flashes of inspiration, often shows up in some form of disarray

spent his adolescence at Formenos. Retained a certain affinity for wintery places ever since

He sensed something fishy about Sauron before long, but between wanting to avoid the family propensity for unwarranted suspicion and being tempted by all the possibilities of what he could do with that power/knowledge even if it did come from a fishy source, he didn’t act before it was too late - he can't have been fully clueless since he hid the three; There was definitely just a bit of actual seduction/forbidden fruit appeal in place there, whether to use the word “hubris” probably depends on your philosophy. 

He drops the ‘th’ once he renounces Curufin, but slips right back into the old habit when excited or exasperating. At some point during his rule of Eregion, he stops bothering to hide it - A similar thing happens when he’s talking Sindarin with his northeast Beleriand accent. 

I know this is a very popular old hat headcanon, but... His other name is also “Curufinwe”. Everyone called him Telperinquar from the start, lest all three come running and grumble about being distracted from work, but after the Nargothrond debacle, he had other reasons for not using it. But really, Telperinquar/Celebrimbor is just another more metaphorical way to say “this baby shall be good at working with his hands” so yeah

My HC for where he was between the Finrod incident and the second age is as follows: He departed for war with Gwindor’s troupe (this is someone who tried to engineer a way around entropy - not a “do nothing” sort of guy) and fled the battlefield with Turgon. (hence some of the passages that place him in Gondolin can still be made to work. He totally made Earendil’s baby-sized mail coat) He fled with Idril’s party. Had she not tipped him off somehow he would probably have died with the rest of the smith’s guild. Or perhaps he grabbed all the valuable records he could find and ran for it because someone needed to preserve them. As living surrounded by the survivors of Doriath would have been awkward to say the least, he went to the isle of Balar to offer his skills and service to Gil-Galad. This is where he befriended/ reconnected with Galadriel and Celeborn. 

Finrod once told him the “faithful stone” legend from Brethil. It would be an inspiration to him much later. Generally credits Finrod with being a good influence on him. 

Judging by the stars on the doors of Durin his stance on his family probably softened over the years. He essentially attained their original new dream of exploring distant lands and building unparalleled new realms, at least for a while - also definitely has a similar “screw destiny!”/ “I defy you stars!” attitude. Perhaps he wanted to see their vision done right. 

But on some level, I think he also wanted to associate himself with their fame eventually especially once his own accomplishments grew. His feelings were probably always very ambiguous because he must have admired and envied their great works but also lived getting weird looks whenever he did what he’s best at and loves doing most in the world because it associates him with these very ambiguous people whom many hated... at one point in the past he must have really admired his father and grandfather, I mean, he came with them across the sea. 

Nerdanel

She got Feanor the apprenticeship / gave him the idea after they met on their travels. 

Were seen as something of an eccentric hippie/ hipster couple in the early days

She’s tough, confident and definitely quipped/ yelled back at times. Definitely described as ‘strong-willed’ and individual. Like this was a ‘kindred spirits’ thing before everything went to hell

it counts for something that even during the ugly bitter parting scene the worst Feanor could say was “someone must’ve turned you against me because you definitely cared once” rather than “you’re a traitor” for all that everything else in that scene made him very punchable

Their relationship dynamic, as I see it, is that she’s the one person who just sees and treats him like a normal dude. No apprehension, no fawning. He’s not “the greatest” or a tainted aberration to her, he’s simply a like-minded friend. So she’s pretty chill about his idiosyncrasies and doesn’t see them as a big deal, but on the other hand, she’s not overawed and will not take bullshit

Since she is good at understanding people she probably usually gets where he’s coming from even when he’s not being reasonable

possibly invented abstract art; was most certainly influential. 

the elves who serve Aule probably have their own little traditions. She might’ve imparted some of those on her descendants

Also ppl tend to forget that she also does metalwork. Again, it’s quite possible that she got him into it and that if they’d never met, he might have landed in a completely different discipline

I think it says a lot about Feanor that he chose her for being smart, creative and independent-minded. It shows that he actually values these things and that it’s not just a rhetorical device;  he’s not a hypocrite, he failed at what he was genuinely trying to aim for. 

She had Finwe won over the moment she mentioned that she likes children. To Feanor’s chagrin, she proclaimed that his then-tiny half-siblings were the cutest thing ever but since he was trying to impress Nerdanel, he actually kept his composure there. 

She was totally buds with Earwen and Anaire. 

I really like those fics where she played some part in the reconstruction efforts. She’s already renowned for her wisdom and has some familiarity with the court, so why wouldn’t Finarfin make her an advisor? 

Miriel

She was described as having “silver” hair like what the teleri sometimes have, but that was for lack of a better world. It’s actually pretty close to pure white. It was an unprecedented anomaly. Celegorm got it. Though overall Maglor might be the one who most looks like her. Or maybe Caranthir. 

Well, her tendency to refuse to eat her words no matter what has certainly proven highly heritable

Canonically one of those ppl who talks very fast 

Feanor doesn’t look very much like her at all, but he talks like her and is similar in his body language etc. The shape of her hands, however, has made it all the way to Celebrimbor in an unbroken line. Maglor’s got em too. 

She was the only one of her family to make the great journey. That’s why “the names of her kin are not recorded”. You see, they tried to convince her not to go, and that only made her more determined. 

Miriel and Indis used to have this thing where Miriel would sing while Indis plays the instrument. First time Indis caught Maedhros and Fingon doing something similar she got very emotional about it. She told them how she and Miriel also used to have a sort of odd friendship despite their opposite looks and personalities. Maedhros had at this point never even heard that they used to be friends. She proceeded to tell him some fun stories from Miriel’s youth and encouraged the two to spend time together. 

We’re told that Miriel and Finwe only got together in Valinor; Since Indis had a thing for him since before the Vanyar moved out of Tirion it’s fully possible that Indis actually liked him first. Maybe she actually introduced them to each other, like she wasn't confident enough to ask him on a date so she brought her friend, only for the two to be immediately smitten with each other. Poor Indis decided that she had no chance and moved out of town when Ingwe did. 

Miriel definitely expresses her love/admiration in the way of “You! You’re perf! I must make art of you!”

Since his arrival in the halls of Mandos, Feanor has made several of Vaire’s Maiar cry with his critique of their tapestries, but he holds that his mom’s are best. 

Feanor himself

In general, I hold that while he said many things that were not right, there’s a lot of what he prophecied that was not quite wrong and does come true in a kind of way, even if not necessarily for himself and his family. They sort of pave the way as Promethean figures. The second mouse gets the cheese (it’s usually some Nolofinwean)

Though he’s also the ultimate example of “you are not immune to propaganda”. Literally the smartest man in the world; Still touchy enough to be an easy mark for emotional manipulation. 

I think a lot of ff undersells what a polymath he must’ve been and that part where he worked on many different topics and was “the most learned”. 

You know the type of author who has a bazillion unfinished wips going and jumps wildly from topic to topic? Feanor’s research notes are exactly like that, especially the tendency to disintegrate into cryptic jottings and notes right before the most interesting part.  Just like the unfinished texts from HoMe Just like Gauss or Euler, having invented everything a hundred years ahead and 40% more discoveries buried that he never felt ready to publish. (I can also definitely see the sons – especially Maedhros and Curufin – spending the better part of the siege of Angband compiling some of it into a presentable format. Celebrimbor would then be the one to stumble upon implications /corollaries that had somehow been missed for thousands of years. 

For all that I enjoy fics where they’re all smoll and adorable as much as the next person, canonically we’re given every indication that he was an adolescent or young adult by the time the remarriage occurred. The published silm has him “well-nigh full-grown” by the time Indis started having kids; In the HoME passage detailing the romantic meeting on the mountain it’s said that he was “wandering in the mountains” (ie, old enough to do so on his own) at the time. He moved out as soon as he could, so he and his half-siblings never actually spent any significant time in the same household

I mean, he reacted like a teenager would, and IMHO neither his character nor Finwe’s make any sense if this wasn’t a single parent situation early on. 

Personally, I really don’t like that headcanon that he was nicer to the sisters for no reason. I don’t think his relationship with Fingolfin was ever much better than the sort of “awkwardly tolerating” we saw at the reconciliation scene; At the same time, I don’t think things would ever have escalated to that degree if Melkor hadn’t gone mucking things up. 

In the same vein, I don’t think he always had beef with the Valar. He used to hang out in Aule’s halls and let Celegorm study with Orome after all and studied their language. - he certainly seems to have had some romanticism for the Hither Lands evident in his speeches, he traveled far past the well-lit areas, made crystals that shine in starlight etc. so he was probably always somewhat independent-minded and he certainly knew, better than anyone, that the Valar are imperfect and can’t fix everything (they couldn’t heal Miriel after all) - but it’s a long way from healthy skepticism and understandable disappointment to asserting bad intentions where there are none. 

There’s a long way between not wanting a relationship with someone, and pointing stabby objects at them. Feanor was always difficult and never the type of person to be easily satisfied but at the same time, he clearly had his “delight” in his work and life as it was pre-Melkor. He could’ve gone on as an inventor and author of strongly worded opinion pieces; perhaps the elves were even “meant” to go back & come into contact with the Edain for a brief while, just without all the murder. 

The thing about Melkor’s lies is that they made a complicated situation conveniently easy in a way that he (and Fingolfin!) would want to believe. It’s not really either of their fault that they both exist, but if your rival is actually out to get you then suddenly all your negative feelings are justified 

Personally, I don’t think it the remarriage made that much of a difference - Miriel would still be dead. What Feanor’s really mad at is the inherent unfairness of the world. But he can’t fix or fight that, so in a misfire of his engineer’s mindset that thinks in terms of simple cause and effect and wants the world to be logical and controllable, he blamed something tangible (Indis.)

I think Melkor hates him so much because he’s kinda what Melkor wishes he was or likes to think he is. They’re both the mightiest of their respective kinds and don’t really fit in, but Feanor’s actually extremely creative. He goes and does his own thing, and maybe errs in overlooking that no man is an island and that all works are built on those of others, but, look at Melkor who wants all the scale of a group project but none of the “cooperation” part and basically can’t make anything of his own. “You’re like me, yet you’re successful? I cannot allow it!” 

In a sense you have classic Satan and Miltonian satan in the same setting, and they can’t stand each other

[arafinweanappreciation]

Y'know, I've seen a fair amount of art that takes Idril's epsesse, Celebrindal ("silverfoot"), literally and gives her mithril prosthetic legs/feet but I don't think I've ever seen anyone do the same for Angrod's amilesse, Angamaite ("iron-handed")

[arofili]

Additionally: not sure how the Reuniting Of The Families actually happens in this AU, we'll see when we get there, but I was suddenly possessed with the image of little Orodreth sobbing into his father's arms because Caranthir (a grown-ass man) saw a 5-year-old in an Iron Man costume running at him at full speed, went into fight or flight mode, picked him up, and yeeted him into the nearest semi-soft surface.

"I was threatened," he insists as Angrod and Eldalótë yell at him for throwing hands with their son. "He was wearing armor! And he landed on the couch, it's fine--"

"He is a CHILD," Angrod bellows, and thus their feud begins.

(When Orodreth is a bit bigger he finds the story hilarious, latches onto Caranthir as his "favorite uncle," much to Finrod and Aegnor's chagrin, and drives Caranthir insane in the way only little kids can. Angrod is upset at first but Eldalótë helps him realize that this is the worst possible punishment for Caranthir. Also eventually Caranthir gets soft and actually befriends Orodreth.)

[saelwen]

The Last Dragon

Daenys Targaryen x Glorfindel

Crossover: Game of Thrones and LOTR/Hobbit

Chapter19

Masterlist

Summary: After Daenery’s death, her daughter Daenys, flew away with Drogon. Feeling lost without her mother beside her, but what will happen when Daenys find a portal that will lead her to a certain world, where dwell elves, dwarves, humans and other races.

Warnings: SMUT

Words. 2,401

A gentle kiss woke me up from peaceful slumber, opening my eyes slowly I saw the handsome face of my husband, smiling softly to me “Good-morning, Melleth nin! Did you sleep well?” his smooth voice made a shiver run down my body. I put my hand on his soft cheek, pushing some piece of his gold hair behind his pointy ear “Good-morning, my love! I’ve slept like a rock...and you?” I say, a while moving closer to him, cuddling into his warm chest “Sleep didn’t come last time... I was too anxious for today.” I could see his eyes full of fear and sorrow.

Pushing my elbow down on the bed, I look down to him “I know that today is going to be...a really an exciting day.” I grab his large hand, giving a soft squeeze “And I know that you are nervous to see your old companions...but know that I will be there with you, supporting you...After their long rest in the Halls of Mandos, I believe that they have their souls healed from all the pain and the darkness that has blind them a long time ago.” I lean down and gave him a soft kiss on his smooth lips.

He lets out a sigh and wraps his strong arms around my waist, pulling me down to him “Sometimes I forgot how young you are...You have the speech of a wise elf.” he says a while blowing raspberries on my neck, forcing a loud laugh to escape from me.

He pushes me on my back, caging me between his strong arms “My dragon Queen...” his voice was full of love, like his beautiful blue eyes that were looking to mine.

I cup his face on my small hands “My golden flower...” with that, I pull him down, crashing my lips into his soft ones. His kiss was gentle at first but it turned more passionate, biting my lower lip, making me gasp.

He took that opportunity and push his warm tongue inside, exploring every corner on my mouth. I moan into the kiss, running my hands on his back. I feel one of his hands runs down to my side, touching softly, he moves his kiss to my jaw and then to my neck, nibbling and sucking on the soft skin there. It’s have been a while that we had some alone time, the last time that we had some intimate time was three months ago, in Rivendell.

“Glorfindel...” I whimper his name as he sucks on my sweet spot on my neck, I move my hands down to his waist and grab the end of his shirt, pulling up. He sits back and helps me take his shirt off, revealing his pale strong chest to my violet eyes. I run my hand on his warm skin, petting softly “You are beautiful...” I whisper, almost to myself.

“Not as you, my beloved wife.” he says a while pushing the sleeves of my nightgown down, exposing my soft breasts to him. He grabs them, cupping softly in his large hands “Hello, old friends.” his smirk was huge on his lips, I giggle and punch him softly on his shoulder “Shut up...” I say a while rolling my eyes.

I push him on his back and straddled him, leaning down I kiss him hungrily. Glorfindel lets out a soft groan, making my folds wetter than they were.

I start to kiss him down his muscular body, feeling his body shiver with each kiss I give. When I reach his pants, I look up to his ocean blue eyes and smirk a little. Slowly, I undo his belt and push his pants down, seeing a bulge on his underwear. My smirk grew bigger as I saw his eyes almost black, full of lust “Let’s have a taste.” with that I grab softly his large member on my small hands and give him some pumps. Leaning my head down, I wrap my plumbs lips around his head, sucking it softly.

He throws his head back into the smooth pillows and let out a moan, running his long fingers on my silver hair, pushing softly to his cock “Daenys!... Fuck!” his voice came out almost like a growl, sending a shiver down my spine. I take more of him into my mouth, pumping the rest that I couldn’t take it on my warm hand.

Glorfindel starts moving his hips, his eyes close lost in pleasure. A moan escapes from me as I feel his pre-cum on my tongue. Gods! How I've missed his flavor.

Suddenly, he grabs me by the arms and shoves me on my back “I want us cum together, Melleth nin.” he purrs on my ear. He pushes away my nightgown and throws it to the smooth floor “No panties?” he says, smirking down to me with his golden eyebrow lifted up “I forgot them...” I giggle.

He leans down and kisses me passionately, I whimper as I feel his cock rubbing up and down on my wet folds, teasing. I bit his lower lips, hearing a growl from him “Please!... I want you!” I moan, wrapping my arms around his neck and pull him to me.

Glorfindel chuckled “As my wife wishes.” with that he thrust his large member into my wet pussy, making me let out a cry. He stays still for a while, letting me adjust to his large cock, giving me small kisses on my neck. After a while, I move my hips forward, letting him know that I was okay “Move...Please!” I whimper.

He nods and begins thrusting his hips softly, spreading a wave of pleasure on my body. He rests his forehead on mine and lets out a groan “Oh Eru! You’re so tight!” I kiss his neck, moving down to his shoulder “Harder!... Glorfindel!” my voice was full of lust and love. His thrust begun moving faster, rocking the bed, making the frame hitting on the wall. I hope no one hears us!

I bit his shoulder as I feel my orgasm coming closer. I wrap my legs around his strong waist and pull him closer to me “I..I’m close... I’m cumming, melleth nin!” I moan, my hands gripping hard on his back. He moves his hand down and I feel his fingers rubbing hard on my clit “Cum, my love!... CUM FOR ME!” those words were enough to send me into a state of euphoria, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. Glorfindel lets out a small cry, his thrust becoming sloppy “OH ERU!” I feel his hot cum filling me up, painting my walls. We rode our orgasm together, moans and groans were the only sounds that I could hear in the room.

He rests his body on mine, his breath coming out in little puffs. I cuddle my face into his neck, kissing softly “I love you.” my voice came out rough from all the screaming and moaning. He wraps his arms around my waits, hugging me softly “I love you too.” he says softly.

                                                  ~~~~~~~~

After our lovely morning, we head out to Mandos Palace, with Maglor and Tyrion close behind us. King Olwë told us that he and his people didn’t desire to see the Noldor faces yet, in which I understand completely.

On our way there, we heard the sound of hooves running towards us. Glorfindel stops his horse as I and the rest do the same “What is it?” Tyrion asked from his seat behind Maglor. I look to the side and saw a group of riders walking to us, a small gasp escape from Glorfindel and Maglor. What’s going on?

The leader of the group approached us, he had beautiful blond hair, almost like Glorfindel. His face was well built, his feature was sharp like a knife and his eyes were grey like Maglor’s. Beside him was a beautiful woman, with white hair almost remind me of King Olwë.

“King Finarfin! It’s good to see you...as well your wife, Eäwen.” Glorfindel says, a while bowing his head to the couple. I and Tyrion do the same but Maglor stays looking to him with a blank face. King Finarfin looks to him “Hello... nephew.” he says with a soft voice but Maglor says nothing and looks away.

Finarfin lets out a sigh and looks to me, a soft smile on his handsome face “Lady Daenys! We have heard so much about you and your dragons.” he bows his head slowly “The news of Mandos openings his halls, letting out our old friends and family reborn again arrived in Tirion! We wish to accompany you for we desire to see our sons again.” I smile a little and nod “Of course, King Finarfin! I would love to have you with us.” I say softly.

We start walking again but a yell stops us “WAIT!” I turn back and saw a red-haired elleth running to us, Maglor eyes widened and he dismounts quickly his horse, running to the elleth “NANA!” he wraps his arms around her and pulls her to him, hiding his tears on her neck. Glorfindel walks to me and smiles “That’s Lady Nerdanel. The wife of Feanor and mother of his seven sons...She didn’t sail to middle-earth on the first age.” a small smile appears on my face, seeing the reunion between mother and son.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Nerdanel! As you may know, I'm Daenys of the House Targaryen.” she looks to me from her son’s shoulder “Lady Daenys! Nice to meet you too... I would assume that you already know why am I here.” she gives me a gentle smile...a smile of a mother. I nod “You wish to accompany us?... Well follow us along.” they return to their horses and we begin again our journey to the Halls of Mandos.

When we arrive at the two gigantic iron doors, we dismount and waited there for we couldn’t enter his halls. A warm hand grabs softly mine, I look up and saw Glorfindel with an excited smile on his face “Are you ready?” I asked, cupping his cheek softly in my hand.

He nods and kisses my palm “Yes... I can’t believe that I will see my long friends again...” as I was about to respond to him, the sound of the iron doors opening grabbed our attention. I could feel Glorfindel's body go tense as we turn to the gigantic doors, I grab his hand and give him a small squeeze.

The doors open and a sea of elves with grey robes come out, all of them looking around in awe and relief, happy to see the sun again. The first elves that went running to us were all golden-haired, three of them jump into King Finarfin, hug him and his wife tightly “Ada! Nana!” they whisper to their parents. King Finarfin and his wife sob and embrace all of their children “Finrod! Angrod! And my little Aegnor!...How I've missed you all!” he says with a gentle smile “Where is sister?” Finrod asked, looking around, trying to see her “She’s still in middle-earth, my son.” Finarfin says.

A smile forms on my face, seeing all the families reunited again. Hearing the sobs and laughter around me, all a sudden I feel Glorfindel pull away from my hand and run to the arms of a black-haired Ellon “ECTHELION!!” his voice full of happiness and sorrow. Ecthelion smiles and wraps his arms around his old friend “It’s been a long time, Mellon nin!” his voice was calm and gentle. I took a step forward, grabbing his attention, I bow my head “Hello, Lord Ecthelion! It's nice to finally meet you.” Ecthelion looks to Glorfindel in confusion “Ah! This is my beautiful wife! Daenys of the House Targaryen.” he says with a proud smile on his face, Ecthelion looks to him in awe and then to me “Oh my Eru! How in the hell you could get such a beautiful woman? With that orc face?!” a giggle escapes from as I saw Glorfindel punching his friend's shoulder.

Ecthelion grabs my hand and kisses it softly “It’s nice to meet you, Lady Daenys! I hope that this elfling isn’t giving a hard time.” another giggle falls from my lips “No, he’s a wonderful husband.” I say with a smile.

They continue joking around but a delicate hand land on my shoulder, grabbing my attention, making me turn back. My eyes widened as I saw Maglor with eight tall ellons behind him, looking to me up and down “Lady Daenys...This is my family.” his voice full happiness.

I look to them, noticing three of them had their mother’s hair color and the rest had their father’s hair but one grabbed my attention, he was the only one that had blond hair. Weird...

“Well, this is Maedhros, the first son,” Maglor says pointing to an extremely tall red-haired elf, he had a stern expression like all of them. He nods and looks around, trying to avoid any talk, “Celegorm, the third son” the blond elf took a step forward and bow his head “Hello, Lady Daenys.” his voice was deep and rough. I gave him a small bow and smile “Hello, Lord Celegorm.” then a black-haired elf took a step closer “I’m Curufin! It’s nice to meet you, Lady Daenys!” he says quickly, staying beside his older brother, Celegorm.

I return his words politely, Maglor point to the three elves standing there “Those are Caranthir and the twins, Amrod and Amras.” I smile to them and bow my head, Carathir had black hair like his father and his expression was the most stern of them all, and the twins had red hair, they walk to me and gave me a huge smile “Thank you so much for taking us out of there!” Amrod said with his twin close behind.

“No need to thank because there will be another battle that you are going to enter and for that I'm sorry.” I say, noticing everyone faces going serious.

Then a tall elf approached me with Lady Nerdanel beside him. Fëanor...

I could feel his fierce aura radiate out from him, making a ball of nervous. I took a deep breath and met his hard gaze, lifting my head high.

We stay for a while looking to each other, having a discussion with our eyes. Suddenly, a small smile appears on his lips “Shall we begin?” his voice was rich and deep.

I smirk to him and nod. This is going to be fun...

Hey Guys!! New chapter here. So what do you think? I know that my smut isn't very good but i try to improve. I hope you like it and feel free to tell what you think!!

XOXO

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