#nargothrond's close by on this list

[deer-with-a-stick]

Just had a friend ask me what my favorite places in Middle Earth were, fully expecting for me to say something along the lines of Mirkwood, Rivendell, or Lothlorien, and ended up staring at me when I said Erebor, Himring, Khazad-dum, and Gondolin.

[serene-faerie]

A list of Celebrimbor’s most unexpected friendships throughout his life:

Lúthien: During her capture in Nargothrond, Celebrimbor is quick to befriend her and keep her safe from Celegorm’s advances. Lúthien also trusts him alone, and she appreciates his efforts in protecting her from his father and uncle. He admires her for her courage in trying to save Beren, and he plots with Huan to help her escape. He’s glad to hear of her quest being successful, and he gets saddened to hear of her becoming mortal. Celebrimbor wishes that he could’ve met Lúthien again— maybe even Beren as well.

Elwing: After his re-embodiment in Aman, Celebrimbor makes sure to apologize to Elwing for all of the pain his family has brought on her— she’s the second person he apologizes to after Finrod. Elwing slowly warms up to Celebrimbor, and he becomes a trusted friend of hers very quickly. He also shares stories about Elrond with her, and Elwing genuinely loves hearing his stories about her son. Basically, she regularly invites him for tea so that they can share stories together, and even Eärendil comes to appreciate Celebrimbor’s company.

Thingol: This is perhaps the most unlikely friendship of his. Celebrimbor expected to be turned away and scorned by the king of New Doriath, so he’s stunned when Thingol actually listens to his apology. And he’s even more surprised when Thingol invites him to have tea and tell him more about himself. Basically, Celebrimbor becomes the first and only Fëanorian to earn Thingol’s trust and respect, and he becomes a regular guest in New Doriath. It helps that Thingol is grateful to him for his part in helping Lúthien escape from Nargothrond. He and Thingol will talk about what it’s like to have very close relations with Maiar, and Thingol even helps Celebrimbor come to terms with his own deception by Annatar/Sauron.

Melian: Maybe this friendship shouldn’t be a big surprise to Celebrimbor— after all, he befriended her husband. However, after hearing how he had been deceived by Sauron, Melian wants to heal the lingering wounds that Sauron left in Celebrimbor’s spirit. The more time he spends with her, the more Celebrimbor heals. He finds her presence soothing and peaceful, and she is especially patient and understanding when he tells her about Annatar. She helps him recognize the subtle warning signs he’d failed to notice in Annatar, helps him come to terms with his own conflicted emotions about Annatar/Sauron, and she doesn’t even judge him for having loved his tormentor. And like Thingol, Melian is truly grateful to Celebrimbor for his part in helping Lúthien escape from Nargothrond

[galstelperion]

Lust Made Of Thorns (Celegorm x Luthien)

A/N: Don't mind this, it's just a reupload from my old writing account that I deleted.

Warnings: Biting, choking, non-consensual touching, dead dove (Check ao3 for full list of tags)

Words: 1,698

Summary: Trapped in Nargothrond, Luthien finds herself stuck in the company of the most beguiling and disagreeable son of Fëanor, and the fair prince is so enamored by her outward disdain that he takes matters into his own hands to show her what a real man's devotion would be like.

The dog paddled along the outer archways, and Luthien followed him curiously. The day was grey, yet she itched to see anything outside of the stuffiness that permeated the enclosed dwelling where she was forced to remain. The dog now led her through a secret path, marked with small embedded stones and gems jutting out of wet grass. He came to a stop at the very opening of the cave.

She walked out hesitantly through the carved stone, to a garden with a large willow tree at its center. Huan bolted forward now and she sprinted to keep up with him. The lone figure that rested against the tree bark perked up at the sudden noise. The dog came to him swiftly, giving a loud bark once he knelt down and padded its shaggy head. 

Luthien stiffened, her eyes trailing up a pair of leather boots all the way to the startling grey eyes that looked out at her. His long hair was loose over his face, and his head tilted curiously as she came to a halt a couple of paces away.  

"Huan likes you," The prince grumbled. 

Her lips tightened to a thin line, and she stood straight now, her chin held up. 

"That he does." She said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Though I see he is quite treacherous. I did not expect to find your company here." 

Celegorm clicked his tongue.

"It was expressed that you were not to leave your rooms unacquainted. Huan here did exactly what I bade him do should you disobey orders." 

Luthien swallowed and averted her eyes, pacing around him to walk toward the opposite end of the garden. He followed her but did not chastise her for turning her back. He simply waited for her reply in a close observant silence. 

His gaze was heavy, as all those of the Noldor seemed to her, strewn with a light foreign yet comforting to her spirit. 

Finally, when she had enough of him standing over her, she sighed and turned to face him.

"I simply wanted to get some fresh air. I do not desire to be your prisoner."

"I understand that, really, I do."

His eyes narrowed and something upon her face seemed to give him pause. Or perhaps, for a long moment, he permitted himself to indulge in her presence, to study the princess they proudly proclaimed as the fairest in all of Arda.

She caught his hand twitch at his sides before he reached up to tuck a stray hair behind her pointed ear. 

"Perhaps if you'd have thought through your hasty escape you would have–

"Do not touch me."

She flinched, and her back hit the wall. A sharp inward hiss jolted out from her parted lips, and as she stepped away, his hand remained suspended in the air. 

Celegorm smiled keenly at her, eyes darkening perceptively. "Hmmm…" 

He took a step closer. 

"You are in no position to be imprudent, princess." He said, his voice low, cunningly sharp."There are many things you desire, many things I could give to you freely." 

She felt the creeping vine dig into her back, threatening to rip the delicate fabric of her dress should she move too much. 

He crowded into her, letting his fingers trace the edge of her arm before his large hand came to settle at the base of her throat. Her chin lifted and she let out a shaky breath. 

"Yet you will not," She hissed. "You keep me here, locked away in this cavernous kingdom." 

"I desire nothing but to keep you safe."

"Is that what this is about?" She asked, sharper this time. "You've spoken to my father.” 

He chuckled deeply, the sound reverberating against her hand, which was now pressed firmly to his tunic, pushing against him as he drew closer despite her outward protest.

"Of course I have," He said. "He is grateful you are safe. It was thoughtless and foolish to do what you did." 

"The love I fight for is not foolish." 

The smile fell from his face and his jaw hardened visibly. 

"You do not love that man, Luthien." 

For a moment, she thought he would lash out, and that she would suffer the same fate as all those other elves who dared to stand against the fëanorians and their pride. But Luthien did not care whether she gave him insult. She was truthful in her words and he saw it, too. He hated it. 

Celegorm had not ever thought any would be worthy of wearing those fine jewels his father had carved, not even his own mother. But Luthien Tinuviel, in her full anger, roused a snarl from deep in his chest, and he decided then that if there were any who could wear it, it would be her. And, in the end, she would be his. He would keep her and covet her better than any low man with hardly a weapon to his name.

"He has taken you into a spell, I can see it clearly. He's all but ensnared your innocence– 

"You have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Tell me, princess, have you ever been properly courted by a man?" He asked. "And not some plebeian–a noble of high blood worthy of your station…" He paused and let himself grin again. "An Eldar, perhaps." 

She glared and began to squirm. Her hand beat violently against his chest, but he was so old, he stilled and planted himself like a root beneath the grass, until he was as immovable as an ancient statue. 

"Let go of me, Celegorm!" 

He seized her wrists and forced her arms down. Her eyes widened but she waited, her body stiff and immovable. He reached up to cradle her face and before she could cry out, he crashed his lips against her own. 

Luthien did not permit herself to kiss back. She could scarcely move when he gripped her throat and pressed a hard thumb against her windpipe. His lust was fervent and needy, and as a low growl rumbled from his chest it seemed to cut deep into her skin. And she began to weep for her lost love, for the home she desired desperately to return to. 

His teeth bit down hard against her bottom lip as he pulled away, easing his hold over her throat, he rested his forehead against hers and bid her to remain still with the warning in his steely grey eyes. 

Luthien wondered how she had never felt such vivid hatred before, more alive than vibrant wheat fields at the coming of spring. No, this dreadful feeling was a sheet of snow over once fertile lands. A bitter winter that never seemed to end. And if they had not taken her daggers she would have plunged it gladly into his jugular without a second thought. 

"You're ready to destroy your family over a man with barely a name or house to call his own when you have so much better options here?” 

Her chin shot up, pressing against his tightening hand as she inched forward again, her teeth gritted in defiance. 

"Beren is more noble, more honorable than you will ever be." 

Much to her dread, he seemed to liven at her reproach, and inched his head down, pressing his head against hers. His lips whispered over her jaw, and she bit back a curse against him. 

"Is that right?" He whispered, tauntingly. 

He pushed her until her head slammed back against the stone. For a moment, her vision went dark, but not before her back arched unwittingly as he began to bite, and tease, and run his tongue languidly along the sensitive skin beneath her ear. 

"Celegorm, stop–

Her fingers sunk into his hair and she pulled as hard as she could when he reached her chest, and drew a soft moan from her lips when he teased her nipples through the thin fabric. 

"But you crave this, I can see it in you,” He chuckled deeply as he came back up, his eyes meeting hers with that merciless cold blood of a conquerer ready to take what he believes is rightfully his. 

A pool of tears slipped down her cheeks as he cradled her face again, his eyes hardened at her silence and stubbornness. 

“Look at me and tell me you don't feel it!" He demanded, almost pleading as he shook her. 

"My father was more than right to cast your people out.” She started, her voice choked and muddled by the lump that formed in her throat. “I loathe you and all of your kin. I would curse all the Nodoli, but it seems the Valar have all but scorned you already. I would not spare you any affection if you were the last person standing on this middle earth." 

He remained undeterred, and her words barely caused him to flinch. He only seemed to find her more endearing when she fought back. Her hatred was part of the hunt, and he would not cease to close in on her until she was a pretty thing at his side. If only she knew how her begging and moaning only stirred him up all the more. 

"Are you quite finished?" 

"You are a monster."

He chuckled and averted his eyes back to Huan, who seemed too distracted with the gardens and fresh air to notice them. 

"I will never love you." She swore. "No matter how long you keep me here." 

He licked his lips and with a click of his tongue, he released her, stepping back slowly with a new ease about him. She seemed to slump forward at the sudden loss of harsh touch but straightened herself quickly. 

“We'll see about that,” He mused, and his voice floated through the air like a song. 

Luthien hissed as Celegorm turned his back, and for the first time, she tasted her own blood upon her swollen lips. She gave a silent prayer to Eru that the fair prince and all his brothers would soon be cast into the fiery pits of Angband, and she thought, the world would be all the better for it if they were. 

[gardensofthemoon]

Curufinrod + 9 🥰

9 - in public. prompt list here

They arrived at the break of dawn, weary after the arduous march westwards. His guardsmen were flanking the two familiar figures, their red coats bemired by the road. One tall and fair, the other dark and slender. The lost light from faraway shores shone brightly in their eyes, a twin to the one burning inside Finrod.

“Kinsmen,” he called. “Cousins. In times of grief you show your faces. How come the proud sons of Fëanor seek refuge at my door?”

“Spare me, Findaráto. The fire reached us; we could not hold Himlad. Everything burned.” Celegorm stopped and spat. He looked little like one ready to ask for sanctuary. His stride was haughty, his voice taunting.

Finrod should not welcome them inside. There was little love between the sons of Fëanor and his people, and he did not forgive them the slaying of his kind. But in another time they had been close in friendship; and Celegorm and Curufin warded the northern border and kept counsel with his brothers. They had fought together against their foes for four hundred years of the Sun.

But Curufin took a step forward. “Peace, brother,” he said. His hand came to rest upon Celegorm’s shoulder. “We do not come with ill intentions. My brother speaks out of misplaced sorrow. Our home is no more.” His mouth twisted. Loath he was to display his hurt and clever to conceal it, but the pain was no less real for it. Finrod knew it. Recognised it, the grief that hung from his shoulders like a well-worn mantle, heavier with each year of unending war.

“You named us kinsmen. Bound by the same blood, if not the same doom. Our people are in want of shelter. Will you have us?”

Finrod regarded him, and Curufin held the stare without flinching. Then Curufin bowed his head before Finrod and took Finrod’s hand. “At the hour of our need,” he said, “I trust in you,” and kissed his knuckles before the witnessing eyes of Nargothrond.

The rising sun bled red.

[eilinelsghost]

Writing Year Wrapped

As someone who struggles to name things in my own writing that I enjoy (thanks, childhood of being repeatedly told that anything but self-derision was arrogance), I thought it might be nice to have an excuse in case anyone else needs a reason to talk about things they're proud of.

So for the year end, let's get this going!

3 Favorite Fics You've Written This Year

Atanatárissë || My 2023 TRSB fic written to accompany @anerea-lantiria's absolutely incredible art. It was an unexpected delight to get to push into the Atani mythology and this one will always be really close to my heart.

A Heady Fragrance of Honey || Finrod's moment of Balan-epiphany and my chance to delve into a bit of his background in Valinor.

And Still the Light Returns || One of the things that has always made me flinch about the Finrod/Bëor dynamic is how Bëor pretty much abandons his kids. Getting to wrangle with that (and make Balan wrangle with that too) was good for my heart. Also have I mentioned that I adore Belen? I adore Belen.

3 Fics That Stretched You the Most

In These Holy Waters || I hated this one with an absolute passion when I posted it. It was like pulling teeth trying to get words on the page. I've now come to terms with it and find I have a fond spot for it after all.

A Harmony Refracted || Honestly either of the anon smuts would count here, but this one is the better of the two so it's the one I'll list. Never thought I'd write smut, but it was weirdly freeing to try it after a very shame-centric upbringing.

Many a Dreadful Path || Writing Beren has been one of the hardest things in the entire Atandil series so far. I just cannot find that guy's voice for the life of me. This continues to be a struggle as the series continues, but I wrangled a lot with him on this one and was fairly pleased with where it landed.

3 Favorite Lines You've Written As always, I'm going to stretch the definition bit on what "a line" is because I need these to make sense.

"He could see all the way to the shore, the crags where he had perched only a few minutes before shining crisp and vivid through the water. And there to his right—Nóm dazzling in the midst of it. A cloud of gold, his hair floating about him; his body suspended as though caught in glass with the shimmering light cascading along its facets." —In These Holy Waters, Atandil 14

"So it was to be reborn, Finrod mused as he moved ever nearer his brother, the essence of your fëa lingering and binding you to your place in the world, to the memory of your vessel, but you knew the unmaking yet within every fiber. Each sinew held too the memory of that. You walked through the world, more permeable than before, light and pain both spilling more easily from its cracks." —Little Lords of the Brine

"Yet my reticence faltered once and in that brief moment she rose beside me—a balm and not a sharp thing of shearing edges. And she has remained there ever since, steady through the tempests, my first love gone before me as I go now before those who remain, a loss abated not deeper delved. Do not flee memory for fear of heightening pain, for it is the physic that soothes the long ache and that which binds the wound together. Remind Nóm of it as well, for he will forget it." —Atanatárissë, Chapter 5

3 Characters You Enjoyed Writing (that surprised you)

Belen || My dearest lil guy, my baby hedgehog, my adorable nerd. He has a single reference in the intro notes of the Athrabeth and has turned into one of my absolute favorite characters in the entire series.

Estreth || She showed up as an accident and ended up a damn delight.

Hiril || She was in a list of people I thought it would make sense to explore in my TRSB fic and she surprised me by ending up one of the easiest voices to find, when I expected her to be one of the more difficult.

3 Unexpected Inspirations

A joke about whether Nargothrond just had some random Lembas Lady resulted in one of my new favorite characters in Atandil: Meril, besain of Nargothrond who was born in Cuiviénen and is one of Finrod's chief counselors.

The Father Duck story from And Still the Light Returns is based on a story from my childhood. We lived on a lake and a duck got caught in the ice in the middle of our bay. My mom and our neighbor dragged a canoe down and chopped their way through the ice to get the duck. It lived in our neighbor's bathtub for a bit until the local vet was open and could help get it to a wildlife center to recover and be set loose.

My 4 year old blowing a penny whistle as hard as he could for an unbelievably long time gave us Belen and his carved flute in A Shuddering in the Air.

3 WIPs You're Excited About in the Upcoming Year

Darkly the Sundering Flood || Mostly listing this because I'm *hoping* that putting it on here jinxes me and makes it a fic from this year still. It's Atandil 15. It's a beast. It has been murdering me for 2 months.

The Reckoning of Souls || Still Atandil. The gang is in Tol-in-gaurhoth. Everybody's having a terrible time. We discuss souls and Orcs and making people complicit in their own breaking.

A Broken Reflection (working title) || The boys finally get together.

3 People Tagged to Share Theirs

Tagging with zero pressure:

@thelordofgifs

@sallysavestheday

@polutrope

[emyn-arnens]

How about any character(s) + Nargothrond + old and forgotten?

Gildor Inglorion, G, 880 words (from this prompt list)

Nargothrond’s silence rang loud in its empty halls. 

Once, these halls had been filled with the music of harps and lutes, the bubble of laughter and conversation, and the sweet songs of nightingales. Once, fair tapestries had hung upon every wall, and warm light had spilled from jeweled lanterns.

Now, the halls were dark and cold, and no light pierced through the gloom. The lanterns that had hung upon the walls and pillars had been torn off, plundered for their jewels, and the tapestries hung in scorched tatters. The once-graceful carvings etched upon the floor were rent with gashes from the dragon’s claws.

No birdsong spilled from the shadows of the Hall of Song, and no music carried from the Hall of Harps. The Cave of Deep Water, where luminous fish had once swam, sinuous and serpentine, in the dark depths, was clogged with fallen stone. The Hall of Memory, where tapestries of Valinor, as beautiful as if Vairë herself had woven them, had once hung upon its walls, lay in ruin.

And upon everything hung the lingering reek and dread of Glaurung, a foul pall cloaking grief with horror.

All this Gildor saw as he sought the innermost halls, where stood the king’s throne, where Finrod, and Orodreth after him, had once sat, the silver crown of the King of Nargothrond glittering bright upon their brows in the light of the jewel-netted lanterns that hung from the ceiling. 

Rats and mice scuttled about the corridors, fleeing from his passage, and he watched the ground closely as he walked, for the rotted armor and bones of Elves and Orcs alike littered the floor. And everywhere was the scent of decay, noisome and rank, and the dread of Glaurung’s spirit grew.

The Great Hall opened before Gildor, lined with mighty pillars whose arching crowns disappeared into the gloom overhead, now cracked and broken from the passage of the dragon. Gildor stopped upon the threshold of the hall, his heart in his throat. 

At the end of the hall, the carven throne where Finrod once had sat and ruled with wisdom and justice stood cloven in two, and the tapestry behind it depicting the foam-washed shores of Aman had been rent by great claws. In the center of the hall, spreading from pillar to pillar, Glaurung’s hoard glinted dully, illuminated faintly by a crack in the ceiling.

Here, where Glaurung had long lain in pride and greed, sated by the death and ruin he had wrought, the reek and dread of the dragon lay heaviest, marring what had once been the fairest hall in Nargothrond. 

Gildor passed quickly through the hall to the cloven throne at the end, which stood proud still, even in its ruin. The emerald eyes of the carven serpents that twisted together to form the chair’s back glinted in the gloom, looking down upon Gildor as he approached. 

He knelt before the throne, as he had so many times before when Finrod and then Orodreth had sat upon it and received Gildor’s reports of the city and the surrounding woods. Withdrawing the sword at his side, he laid it at the foot of the cloven throne and bowed his head. “I am the last of the Knights of Nargothrond," he said, "and though I would have served my city and my king unto death, both have fallen and are no more, and my life yet lingers. I now lay down my sword, having fulfilled my final duty given to me.” Raising his head to look up at the serpents’ emerald eyes, he murmured, “ Savo hîdh neñ gurth .”

With a heavy heart, he turned and made his way back through the hall, until a glint of blue caught his eye and he stopped.

There upon the dragon hoard lay the blue brooch Finduilas had once worn glittering upon her shoulder—Finduilas, who had ever been generous with her smiles and laughter. Finduilas, whom he had been charged to protect—until in the madness and horror of that day, she had become lost in the panic and press of bodies, and in the chaos, one of the lords of the city had grasped his arm and bade him to escort Celebrimbor, who had little knowledge of the secret paths through the woods encircling Nargothrond, to safety and to guard his flight from the city.

Gildor had heard her cries as they fled, and he had thought he would never cease to hear them in the depths of the night, when the memory of her terror woke him.

He knelt before the hoard and picked up the brooch, running his thumb over the delicate filigree surrounding the blue stones. They were the color of bright flax flowers in the sunlight or shimmering butterfly wings and shone even in the dim mirk of the hall, as fair as the lady who had worn them.

“Forgive me, my lady, for failing to protect you,” Gildor whispered. “But I would keep this in memory of you and of the fair days before the end, for such a thing should not be left here to molder, forgotten, and your memory should be honored, as long as there is one left to guard it.”

He pressed the brooch tightly in his hand and left the hall.

crossposted to AO3 | SWG

[superloves4]

I still taste the past - Chapter 16

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

Masterlist - Also on AO3

Finrod smile pleasantly, welcoming everyone as Orodreth sat down at the table, the last one in his guest list, at least on the Noldor side, he still had no idea how to approach this to his grandfather Olwë.

Turgon was speaking happily with Tuor while Idril and Finduilas joked around, Fingon was laughing, Angrod, meanwhile, was left to watch as his wife, Argon and Elenwë had entered a fierce debate over horse naming conventions, and his parents were talking to his uncle Fingolfin and Anairë. The only ones missing were Aredhel and her son but she'd always been close to Celegorm and Curufin, it was likely they would not need this meal.

He stood up, thanked his family for taking his invitation and then paused, unsure how to broach his long kept secret.

Ëarwen smiled encouragingly at her eldest son, the sudden call for a family feast could only mean one thing and she was ready to calm anyone if that would be necessary, Finrod was finally ready to share with the rest of the family and she was ready to claim another grandchild.

"I know the invitation was sudden," he began.

"You say as if we wouldn't come here to drink on your consideration on a whim," Fingon roared with a laugh, Angrod and Argon laughing with him.

"Yes, of course," he smiled and nodded "But that is not why I called all of you."

The air froze as the Beleriand elves sat straight on their chairs.

Finrod looked at them, he hadn't meant for it to sound so worrisome he simply had no idea how to present the situation, so he just...

"Telperinquar is my son."

Everyone stared at him, a maddening silence as they all tried to process what he'd just said.

His father cleared his throat before attempting to speak normally "Telperinquar, Curufinwë's Telperinquar?" his voice cracked and Ëarwen comforted him, having already gone through the acceptance process.

Finrod sighed, his last memory of Celebrimbor staring down at him from Nargothrond's balconies replaying in his mind, he nodded "The one"

Arafinwë then remembered a moment he couldn't previously understand, that moment when they learned of Celebrimbor's fate, it had been a sad discovery for all, they all knew the boy he'd been and were saddened and horrified that he'd meet such a gruesome fate. But Finrod? Finrod had been devastated, his state had been so terrible that Arafinwë had feared he wouldn't eat anymore. Things eventually turned for the best but for years he had been unable to explain what had happened, now a proper explanation presented itself.

"You and Curufinwë..."

"Yes."

More silence as everyone made sense of *what* that meant, Finrod rather not explain his relationship with Curufin to his whole gathered family but if it was required of him then he would, so he prepared to answer all the questions he'd already gone through with his mother. Yes, he lov- had loved Curufin. Yes, he'd kept their relationship a secret. Yes, his love of Curufin had been the reason for his broken betrothal. Yes, he was sure Tyelpë was his.

Until the silence was broken with laughter.

Finrod stared in confusion as Finduilas clutched her belly, tears forming at the corner of her eyes as if he'd just told the most delightful of jokes, he was about to confirm that he was being serious when he noticed that at her side, Orodreth had gone pink and was slowly sinking into his chair.

"Did, did something happened?" he asked gently.

Orodreth looked at him in abject horror and Finduilas calmed just enough to say "Father owes Celebrimbor a huge apology."

Finrod opened his mouth, then closed it, but curiosity seized him and he dare to ask.

"Why?"

Orodreth fiddled with his hands before rapidly stuttering "Well, you and Curufin weren't exactly the most," he coughed "Not particularly discreet."

Finrod heard Edrahil cough a laugh and blushed.

"That's," he made an effort to continue to look towards his nephew and not sink in his own chair from embarrassment, he couldn't hide now "Unfortunate, but I don't see how this has anything to do with Celebrimbor."

Orodreth eyes begged him to not make him say anything else but now his curiosity had reared it's ugly head, even knowing he was headed for disaster, he just had to know.

His nephew sighed "Well, it was not something extremely apparent to anyone who wasn't aware of your schedule," he sent a look of pity towards Finrod "Curufin's visits were the only moments you'd personally send Edrahil away, it didn't take much to connect what was happening."

Finrod could feel the burning amused looks from Fingon and Angrod, he'd never hear the last of it, would he?

Orodreth's voice shook "Until the day you did just that but with Celebrimbor..."

It all started to make terrible sense as he slowly pieced together what he was being told, Finrod paled "No..."

Unfortunately, Orodreth's guilty look said everything.

Finduilas, more amused than ever, finished the story "And that's how one day, during a fight, Atto may have just called, who we now know to be your son, a whore!" and she fell into another fit of giggles.

"Why would you do that?!" Finrod screamed, raising from his chair.

"How was I supposed to know?!" Orodreth screamed back, letting his head fall into his hands, hiding his shame "I was correct about Curufin, no?"

Finrod fell back into his chair, with such a big a sigh it looked as if his fëa was about to leave his body again "What were you two even fighting over?"

"The running of Nargothrond," Orodreth explained "He disagreed with what I was doing and I told him not to interfere, that I was the king, by dawn he had left."

Finrod sighed, it was not how he had hoped Celebrimbor would be saved from the disaster heading towards Nargothrond but he could content himself in the knowledge that for a time, his son had indeed been safe.

Orodreth, however, twitched "Did Celebrimbor know he was your son? He was rather hurt back then"

He looked around and could feel the way his family worked out the situation he had now presented them, each trying to formulate a more plausible explanation and he knew what he was about to reveal.

"He did."

Suddenly all eyes were on Finrod again. On the tip of their tongue the one question he wasn't ready to answer.

"If you knew Celebrimbor was your son," Orodreth asked "Why did you give Nargothrond to me?"

Turgon's eyes were burning at his side, lies and subterfuge had been something they had gotten familiar back in Beleriand, even after his reembodiment it had taken time for their friendship to heal, to discover that there was one more secret, one much older than all others... nevertheless, his friend spoke "None of this will matter much if Celebrimbor isn't added to the family's trees, as it is you have no legal rights to him."

Finrod thanked him silently.

"He is hardly a child now," argued Ëarwen, taking a sip of her tea.

"Besides," Finarfin said "He is in the family's tree, just not mine."

Celebrimbor of the House of Fëanor, it was the name his son held through all his life and Finrod couldn't even fully blame Curufin for that.

Turgon sharp eye returned as he spoke "Unless you decide to fight Curufin over this."

Finrod knew that was what his friend hoped he'd do, what many of his family would support him on, he'd even considered it once, under a different light. Whenever he thought of that now, however, he thought back to what he knew of Curufin and Celebrimbor, the way he'd seen as Curufin guided their son in all their projects, the way he had defended Celebrimbor in all battles, be of sword or spoken. Curufin had been father twice over when he pulled away.

"I will not fight Curufin, this is a personal matter, not one of law."

Turgon sighed but acquiesced anyway.

With that discussion behind them, the event was allowed to return to a more pleasant moment, there were more of the usual explanations given, a few jeers from some of his cousins, his father incredulity that he'd been in love with Curufin of all people.

"We all thought you hated him!" Finarfin defended himself.

Finrod laughed with everyone else, refusing to tell them that hate felt awfully sweet on Atarinkë's mouth.

Away from his personal life the meal continued in a more cheerful manner from then on, the time of seriousness gone, until all but one of Finrod's guest left the table.

"You never told me."

Finrod stared at the table, he knew Turgon wouldn't be happy of having been kept from such a big part of his best friend's life but he also knew he would have never been able to tell him about Curufin before, and after the Helcaraxë it never felt right.

"No," he then joked "You were rather busy at the time, if I recall, Curufin and I had a bet on when you'd propose to Elenwë, thank you for the coins by the way."

Turgon shrugged "You could've made more if you'd told me, I could have hold off the proposal for maximum profits."

Finrod laughed, Turgon said it so matter-of-factly one could not be blamed for believing he was serious, perhaps that was why so many people believed he didn't know how to joke.

"Maybe I should've." he smiled.

Turgon looked at him, not in pity exactly but certainly caring "What are you going to do about Curufin?"

"Ammë believes I should find someone new."

"And she would be correct," Turgon nodded "But what do you want?"

"I spent a lifetime loving him," Finrod stared at his glass, the ice almost completely melted "I'm not sure who I am if not his."

Turgon patted his shoulder.

[dalliansss]

For 🔥choose violence ask game🔥

I could only narrow it down to five, but you can choose the three you feel most salty about.

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

worst blorboficiation

you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like…

ship you've unwillingly come around to

🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

That Finrod was immaculately 'guilt-free'. Nope. Remember that Nargothrond was Nulukkizdin first and it was home to the last of the petty-dwarves (Mîm and sons). When Finrod got advised by Thingol about the caves from the Narog and he set out to delve Nargothrond there, he would have found the prior-existing Nulukkizdin (albeit in poor shape) and Mîm and his sons. Now, all we are told of is that Mîm attempted to murder him and for this reason the last of those dwarves were expelled, but if you take a pause and think -- who actually was the home-thief here? So let's not say that Finrod is totally guiltless nor blame-free. He had his own sets of cruelties, and this goes into his overall characterization.

Aegnor and Angrod. Because canonically established that Fingon was close to them as if they were their own brothers. Lots to explore there and lots of opportunity for Fingon to have a nuanced portrayal of his own in fanworks that is BEYOND russingon and BEYOND Maedhros's friendship alone.

Maeglin. Wee wet mole has got many red flags and 90% of what I see about him reduces him into this pathetic meow meow that is always victimized and caricaturized to feed ships. Also Melkor lmfao. And Mairon. Last on this list would be Maglor. Just because he sings sad songs doesn't mean he didn't participate in the burning of the ships, or the kinslayings all. He participated, did not regret, and thought to erase his sins by his ballads at a point in time it's too late for regret? UHHHHhHHHhHHh.

Melkor and Luthien. Lmfao. Dark Luthien context only tho. And a very dark storyline and toxic relationship, too.

Angbang. Gdi.

[general-illyrin]

Welcome to my blog; I hope your visit here is pleasant, however long it may be!

I reblog many posts, but I separate them by topic, and don't reblog them all here; if you are interested, here is a list of my side blogs and links to my art and writings under the cut:

@illyrins-mathom-house is where I reblog my many other interests in an attempt to keep this blog mostly Tolkien-focused

@mims-defense-attorney is for all dwarf, Petty-Dwarf, Mîm, Tarn Aeluin, Amon Rûdh, and Nargothrond related posts

@lotrhobbitsilmart is where I reblog all Tolkien art

@lotrhobbitsilmincorrectquotes is a mix of both reblogs and some original Tolkien incorrect quotes

@maedhros-kinslayer is completely reblogs of posts regarding Maedhros

@middle-earthmeta is my blog for Middle-earth related posts that I want to save for future reference and that don't discuss specifically one of Tolkien's works.

@thearchivesofnargothrond is where I reblog all posts regarding The Silmarillion and Tolkien's other Middle-earth works that aren't LotR or The Hobbit that I want to save for future reference.

@rivendellsarchives is the blog where I reblog all posts regarding The Lord of the Rings that I want to save for future reference.

@mymathomhouse is where I reblog all posts regarding The Hobbit that I want to save.

@mostlyforestsandmountains is the sideblog for scenery pictures I wish to save for future reference.

@linguistically-fascinated is for any and all language-related posts that I find interesting, from word definitions to etymologies to fictional languages

Silm map

Everything below is for personal reference, but feel free to browse through it.

- - - - Non-comprehensive List of Some Favorite Fics and Meta - - - -

Sirens by that-angry-noldo (Sirens isn't it's name; I'm just using that to remember what it's about)

Silm, LotR, Hope

Finrod is profoundly sad

- - - - Non-comprehensive List of Some Favorite Art - -

Fingon rescues Maedhros

Maedhros Statue

Frodo Modern College AU

Maedhros, Fingon, & Eagle

Maedhros being rescued by Fingon

MÎM ART!!!

- - - - My Art - - - -

(None of these are the titles; this just tells me what the art is.)

Lady Glasses' DTIYS - Frodo

Snowball Fight for Tolkien Secret Santa Advent Calendar

Thingol & Luthien (better photo here)

Shire Autumn

Autumn for frodo-with-glasses

Dalamar

Lady Glasses' DTIYS - Sam & Bill

Elrond & Gil-Galad

Can't for frodo-with-glasses

Eonwe's Flight for that-angry-noldo

Finrod the bat

The Lord of Shadows

"In Remembrance" for Scribbles & Drabbles

"Unstoppable" for Art Fight

Maedhros DTIYS for alef-art's "Prisoner"

"Beginnings" for Tolkientober

"Dream" for Inktober

"Just Close Your Eyes" for that-angry-noldo

Eönwë's helmet

Dragon embroidery

One Ring to Rule Them All embroidery

"Silmarils" for that-angry-noldo

"Standing Stones" for the Chesterton Challenge

My first zine

Sketch of Nerdanel & Maedhros

OC Moodboard

Finarfin's heraldry

Celegorm & Curufin wrestling with Galadriel in the style of Pretty Deadly

- - - - Illyrin Writes - - - -

untitled Finrod & Amarie

Broken Memories Introduction

Broken Memories - 1. Life

Here For You

Broken Memories - 2. Wedding

Broken Memories - 3. Light

- - - - Headcanons - - - -

Barahir's dwelling at Tarn Aeluin

Tarn Aeluin's popularity

Tarn Aeluin's "ancient grace"

Various Mîm headcanons

Endurance in hope

[solmarillion]

Silm for the ask game?

otp- Silvergifting! I love them so much. It’s the doomed relationship. The close partnership, the intimacy of crafting together and pouring so much of yourself into your creations. The betrayal, the inner conflict, a love so destructive and beautiful and all-consuming that the only way to save oneself is a violent death. It’s perfect. favourite canon pairing- Finrod/Amarië. Finrod gives up everything to find freedom in Middle-earth but his beloved still waits for him... and Finrod comes back completely changed by war. I like the idea of Amarië fighting in the War of Wrath and having to leave Finrod behind. I wish there was more content for them, for Amarië in general... worst pairing ever- obviously Aredhel/Eöl but I don’t know anyone who legitimately likes them other than to indulge in how fucked up that relationship is guilty pleasure pairing- Sauron/Maeglin. Add Sauron/Finrod to this list too. I like the idea of Sauron getting unintentionally attached to the elves he’s torturing. (Though I like post-canon Sauron/Maeglin too) a pairing you want to see more- Balanóm (Finrod/Bëor)! Bëor fell in love with Finrod’s singing voice, the two of them had a close cultural exchange- and Bëor gave up everything to follow Finrod to Nargothrond, he literally renamed himself “vassal” in his language. I love the lord/vassal dynamics so much. But most importantly, it’s the tragedy of an immortal loving a mortal, and how Finrod was the first among the Eldar to witness a mortal’s death... it makes his sacrifice for Beren all the more heartbreaking. Please, write more of this ship, I’m begging you. that pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no”- I can’t really get behind Aredhel/Celegorm, I headcanon Aredhel as an ace lesbian so her affection for Celegorm is completely platonic and familial. favorite non-romantic pair- Russingon! Tolkien really goes out of his way to show how close Maedhros and Fingon are. I believe that they are the best example of a queerplatonic relationship in the whole text. They are canonically melotorni, I will not accept criticism. Fingon kinslays for Maedhros, he goes into Angband to save him despite knowing that Maedhros has essentially betrayed him. They renew their love, they go into battle together, and it all ends in tragedy. Fingon dies alone, Maedhros loses all hope, his sense of self, after his failure. These two make me so emotional and I am always thinking about them.

[outofangband]

appearance headcanon for your fave Narn Ladies?

from this headcanon ask game here! still accepting them

Nonny I will go through all the women in the Narn that I can . Including Larnach's unnamed daughter because she lives rent free in my brain

as always please feel free to ask more :)

Aerin: Aerin as I've mentioned is the second clumsiest in the family after Huor. Her clothes are frequently patched. Aerin's favorite articles of clothing are her riding boots and one of her winter cloaks. It's a deep blood red, a rare color for Hadorian clothing. Her riding boots are plain leather with metal clasps. Metalwork is relatively rare in Dor-lómin but those who work most closely with the horses* are more likely to have access to bits and pieces. 

*see my long winded HCs about the different groups of the Hadorians, the nomadic and non nomadic ones and their relationship with horses, etc 

Finduilas:  Finduilas has green eyes and the body type common among her Telerin relatives. She’s very good at climbing and swimming which she loves.  I also headcanon some of the Sindar have webbed toes because non human traits in elves are fun. (I have a whole list of traits to give to different elven groups) Finduilas also has very good hearing and gets very good at navigating the caves and the water beneath them. She helps in the mapping of the uninhabited reaches of Nargothrond. 

Glóredhel: Glóredhel has shortish very curly hair, flaxen colored. In the version where the Hadorians have dark hair, she wears golden colored ribbons. Glóredhel typically wears her hair shoulder length though brushed out it’s longer. 

Hareth:  Hareth has light brown hair, usually tied back or plaited. She wears a lot of working dresses and tends to roll back her sleeves a lot, sometimes pinning them back. She has a very brisk, fast walk. 

Lalaith: Lalaith had her father’s hair but she had dark eyes like Morwen! She was so  young when she died, it wasn’t known if her eyes would end up the sort of dark gray that Morwen has or a hazel brown like Húrin’s mother, Hareth had. 

If she would have lived she would have been shorter than both her siblings, more similar to Húrin’s height. 

Larnach's Daughter: She has dark auburn hair, relatively rare among her people. It’s lighter in the summer. She keeps it in a braid or tied back so it stays out of the way while she’s working.  She gets very good at swinging an axe as her family are woodsmen. 

(I love this morbid girl so much I am adopting her)

Melian: Melian of course is a shapeshifter. Her usual appearance is something close to elven though almost always with bird features. More often than not she has wings, sometimes with eyes on them. Branches and leaves have been known to grow from her skin. 

Morwen: She has very thick hair. She keeps in much shorter post Nirnaeth because she isn't going to waste the water and other resources needed to care for it when it's longer. It starts graying at a young age, the edges and parts of the roots shining an odd silver in the light. 

Nellas: Nellas has hair she grows out periodically and then cuts. There are more often than not ferns and flowers in her hair  She has light brown skin and dark hair. 

Niënor was a very small baby, her growth spurts were later in life, in her early teens. Before that she seemed to take on closer to her father’s height and body type. 

Rían She has somewhat lighter hair than Morwen and wears a lot of dresses and skirts. She likes flowy things and flower crowns.  She is short and petite which she has always been and unlike Morwen, has no freckles. 

as always please feel free to ask more!

[absynthe--minded]

If you don’t mind because I love to hear it, what editorial choices did Christopher Tolkien make that really frustrate you?

My top one would be Turin’s character assaination.

I do not mind being asked!! this is an incomplete list but I hope it gets the point across

Túrin’s character assassination is astonishing, you’re right, for me it’s specifically everything in Nargothrond as well as the minimizing of Saeros (and sometimes Daeron) harassing him for racist and xenophobic reasons. This is really well-known so I’m not going to spend a lot of time on it unless people want me to? it’s probably best encapsulated in another post lol.

WHERE ARE THE WOMEN, CHRISTOPHER, WHERE ARE THEY. Haleth’s all-woman bodyguards get cut out! Míriel being the inventor of sewing gets cut out! Indis and Nerdanel having a friendship gets cut out! Andreth gets cut out, with not even a mention of the Athrabeth! Morwen and Niënor lose all their character traits! Finduilas is a ghost of her former self! Idril’s character gets cut down to nothing!

Findis and Lalwen not existing. I’m actually going to give them their own bullet point because Lalwen goes to Beleriand with her brother Fingolfin. That’s an entire extra Finwëan princess to talk about!

cutting the Wanderings of Húrin from the Silmarillion was a Bad Choice because it robs Húrin of his status as like. almost a warning of divine punishment. With the Wanderings, and specifically his travels to Gondolin and Menegroth, you can make the argument that Doriath falling and Gondolin falling were in large part because they failed to look after innocents and refugees, and that’s a really neat angle

Gil-galad Son Of Fingon. Gil-galad’s parentage changed so many damn times. I am all for Gil-galad the adopted son of Findekáno and also kind of Maitimo? but Gil-galad the biological son of Fingon has caused so many fandom problems. Leaving his parentage ambiguous would have been the right choice, and Christopher himself agrees with me here.

Beren and Lúthien being directly involved with killing the dwarves who killed Thingol. Christopher also admits in HoME that having Guy Gavriel Kay help with ghostwriting that Silm chapter was a mistake, and that he probably could have succeeded in creating a coherent narrative from his father’s later work (specifically the draft where Celegorm and Curufin kill the dwarves, assuming they have the Silmaril, but Melian actually took it and went to Lúthien)

I’m still doing research on this so I can’t actually speak authoritatively on it yet but what inspired my original frustrated post was the fact that as far as I can tell, the bits in the Silm chapter “Of Maeglin” about Maeglin’s desire to marry Idril being seen as incestuous and twisted and disgusting? Entirely absent from the drafts. All I’ve found in HoME and TFOG so far indicates that J.R.R. Tolkien never wrote anything close to that - Maeglin wanted to marry her, sure, but in the Book of Lost Tales, their marriage is frowned upon because Turgon thought that his nephew was clout-chasing rather than genuinely in love with his daughter. And the other HoME volumes usually have some variation on “Maeglin wanted to marry her, and Turgon loved and trusted him, but she married Tuor instead”, if they mention him at all. All the stuff about how he loved without hope, and how she saw him as terrifyingly warped? I’m willing to say that there’s a very good chance he invented that. Maeglin’s characterization in JRRT’s writing is very different from how he is in the Silm.

Amrod surviving at Losgar. I feel like this is a pretty agreed-upon fandom thing? We all sort of just accept that he died. But it still annoys me that Chris decided not to follow that path.

Argon not existing at all. Argon’s death mirrors Amrod’s death - both Fëanor and Fingolfin have to lose a son before they can begin life in exile, and one dies in fire and the other dies in freezing cold. It also sets up an interesting relationship since Argon died defending his family and his people and Amrod died because of someone else’s selfish and misguided attempt to defend his family.

the removal of a lot of the more queercoded/queer-subtext moments. Túrin and Beleg kiss in front of the Gaurwaith in the Lay of the Children of Húrin, and in that version and the Book of Lost Tales version of the story, Túrin kisses Beleg after he dies. The green Elessar that Galadriel gives to Aragorn is mentioned to be a betrothal gift in Laws and Customs among the Eldar, and there’s one version of the story where that same green stone was given to Fingon by Maedhros.

downplaying the presence of Taliska in the narrative and stripping out a lot of Edainic cultural worldbuilding. Taliska, one of the Edainic languages (or an Edainic language with several distinct dialects) hasn’t had any publicly released information about grammar and construction. We never find out in the published Silm that the Atani - the mortal Men - call themselves the Seekers, the way the elves call themselves the Quendi. We don’t learn that nothlir is the Taliska word for “folk” or “people”, so nothlir Haletha means “folk of Haleth”. All the lengthy discussion of Edainic philosophy from the Athrabeth is gone, and Chris’s decimation of the Narn i Chin Húrin means we don’t know anything in the Silm chapter about life in Dor-lómin under Húrin and Morwen’s leadership.

I hope that answers your question? sorry, this turned out to be long.

[yellow-faerie]

Hello! For the prompt list I hope it's ok if I suggest a concept rather than a pairing? (I just feel I always request Silvergifting and I should branch out 😅) but I was thinking 40 with Celebrimbor and young Gil Galad in a older/younger brother relationship? Could be big brothers (Curufinrod au?) Or just close cousins. However you want to interpret it! Thank you!!

Ah yes, I really like this idea! I decided on doing brothers as that's a curious idea that I definitely want to investigate further (and also then we have some good ol' background Curufinrod)

From this prompt list.

40 - "Its raining! Come on [name], let's go play!"

Celebrimbor doesn't know how he feels about Nargothrond, exactly.

It's...pretty, he thinks, in that sort of way anything is pretty if you arrange the colours and the shapes in an aesthetically pleasing manner. But there's no heart to any of it just...prettiness.

That's not necessarily a bad thing. Too much heart can get rather overwhelming. But he's looking for something good, something to inspire him in his creative slump, and the halls full of dull patterns are not enough.

He clicks his tongue in irritation and slips his pencil behind his ear as he flips his sketchpad closed.

Nothing.

Now, where else...?

"Hanar!" Someone calls from down the quiet corridor and before Celebrimbor has time to register the sound, a small body is colliding with his leg.

"Hanar, Tyelpë, Brimbor!" Gil-Galad says breathlessly, listing all his nicknames as he is prone to doing when excited. "Atya says it's raining! Can we go outside? Please?"

Half attached to Celebrimbor's leg, Gil-Galad bats his eyelashes in the adorable way that gets him anything he wants.

"You know Atya and Atto don't like it when you go outside without one of them," Celebrimbor reminds him but he's already half convinced: not only is it rather difficult to deny his little brother anything but perhaps this change of scene would do him good in the creativity department.

Gil-Galad pouts. "But you'll be with me. That's practically the same thing."

"I don't know..." Celebrimbor says even though he's already decided that he's definitely going outside and will almost definitely be taking Gil with him.

"It's raining!" His brother says, looking at him as if he doesn't understand how important this is to the grand scheme of the world. "Come on Celebrimbor, let's go play!"

He tugs on Celebrimbor's hand and that is the last straw that broke the metaphorical camel's back.

"Alright, alright, alright!" Celebrimbor laughs and Gil-Galad cheers.

"We're going outside, we're going outside, we're going outside!" He sings while Celebrimbor stumbles to keep pace with his excitable dancing run.

"Yes, yes, we're going outside, maybe a little slower...?"

Gil-Galad does not slow down but Celebrimbor does not really mind. He would follow his little brother to the ends of the world.

It's raining quote heavily when they reach the front gate. Celebrimbor nods to the guards on duty who give him a rather befuddled look that almost says 'you're going out in that?' but let them pass all the same.

Celebrimbor is drenched in seconds. It's the nice sort of heavy rain that plops on your head and it's warm as well which makes the whole experience very pleasant indeed.

It's almost like when he was little and it rained in Tirion.

Gil-Galad is clearly ecstatic at this turn of events. Even over the downpour, Celebrimbor can hear his high laughter.

It's worth the scolding he's going to get later, Celebrimbor decides and lets Gil-Galad convince him to try and catch the rain on his tongue.

[miriel-therindes]

So I know that I love getting asks about my OCs and so, if this holds true for you, would you like to talk about Lopowen, Faenel or Turunís (or any combination of the three of them)? Or maybe give them each a colour palette, if that is more your thing!

Oh thank you for the ask!!!! I'm always delighted to ramble about my babies <3

My OCs masterlist

I talked a bit about Turunis previously in this post, but here's some more about her: -She's the daughter of two politicans (her mother is one of the Noldor and her father a Teleri). But in general she considers herself a Noldo, and that's who she grew up mainly with. -She's two years older than Curvo, so they're very close in age and were apprentices at the same time, and huge rivals, always vying for their teachers' approval. -Eventually they became friends, though they were still very competative. -They worked on projects together and invented some things -Turunis thrives on being around people, though she tends to be shortspoken and stoic -She's a very commanding person, who likes being in charge and getting her own way, though she's open to new ideas. She's fairly manipulative and can be charming when she wants to -She's a very *careful* person though and through, and will always play the long game -Unlike Curvo who sometimes...lacks impulse control and patience -She's very loyal to those who she has decided are Her People, and *very* protective, especially of Tyelpe -Finduilas is one of those people. After Finduilas’ mother dies she latches onto Turunis,   and Turunis took one look at her and went "oh, shit. i feel...love??? for Orodreth's brat??? uh;; guess i have another child now" , adds her to the list of Her People, and goes "I've only had this child for a day and a half but if anything happened to her I’d kill everyone in the room and then myself. -So Turunis becomes Finduilas' morally ambiguous adopted aunt  -As Finduilas grows older and Turunis' rapidly morally degenerates and mentally/emotionally breaks down their relationship does become somewhat strained over basic ethical conflict, aka Finduilas says "murder is not ok??" But Finduilas still loved Turunis despite how conflicted her feelings are and Turunis still would do absolutely Anything for Finduilas -After she and Curvo separate he and Finduilas is the two people she has left and she will do absolutely anything to make sure they’re safe, strained as their relationship might be -She dies in the fall of Nargothrond, trying to hold off Orcs with her spear to give Tyelpe and Finduilas more time -And it was not in vain, Tyelpe and several elf children with him managed to escape and flee to Gondolin -Finduilas was, however, taken captive while fleeing, and later pinned to that tree 

Turunis at the kinslaying of Sirion from this character creator

Colour palette for Turunis

There's some more of Faenel in this post, and here are some thoughts I have on her life after the War that I'm not sure I've posted here before:

-She becomes somewhat friends with Faramir in the aftermath, building a friendship over their shared grief. He can never convince her to like Aragorn, though. -She becomes very close friends with Eowyn as well! They meet because Faenel designs and sews Eowyn's wedding dress. -Faenel never went through exactly what Eowyn did, but she can somewhat relate to he crushing weight of duty and responsibility and fear. They help each other heal -Faenel often visits Ithilien to see her and make her clothes (Eowyn insists she shouldn't work on her free time, but Faenel is fascinated by the rohirric fashions and has fun combining those and gondorian styles for Eowyn, so she convinces Eowyn to let her design a few things for her on visits) -Eowyn also teaches Faenel to ride horses. She had never learned before because she lived in Minas Tirith and rarely travelled so there was little need to, but once she learned the basics she loves going on rides with Eowyn and Faramir -Miri and her husband live in another circle of Minas Tirith, but they come down to Faenel's shop for tea nearly every day. -They've all been so very hurt by the War, and Faenel no less, but she learns how to heal and build friendships out of sorrow and find new things to love.

Colour palette for Faenel

Lopowen is one of my newest OCs and she isn't very developed yet, she came into being this February when I was writing a leetle Valentine's day fluff for fun. But she’s a Teleri Elf who was childhood friends with Maglor and they later wed, not long before the Rebellion of the Noldor. She is a poet and storyteller, but a very grounded, practical person. She does go into exhile with the rebellion, but she’s horrified by the kinslaying at Sirion and furious at how Maglor went along with it, killing her own people. So she leaves the host of Feanor and joins that of Fingolfin, meaning that she’s left behind from the ships (Maglor is filled with rage at her and still burns the ships with his father and brother. When he realises that he had doomed her to the Helcaraxe, he regrets it.) She survives the Helcaraxe, and I’m not sure what happens to her in Beleriand yet. I think she might survive the first age, but I’m still working on her story :DD

Lopowen on the Helcaraxe from this character creator

[volvaofowls]

How would they react to different technology from modern world?

-        Fingolfin – hoover

The second son of Finwe will be completely mesmerised when you give him a handheld vacuum. In the beginning he thinks it is some kind of weapon and you start to feel bad when you explain that it is just a household device, meant to help pick up debris from a floor. That is when he opens his mouth, and stars start to shine out of his eyes. He asks you to tell him for to use it, he impatiently listens to all your instructions, eyes never leaving the hoover itself. After that he tries it out, cautiously at first, hoovering a little section and then looking at it. Impressed he took it up more confidently, hoovering the rest of the room and without a stop continuing into the corridor. You were sitting in the same room, given up on waiting for Fingolfin some time ago when he finally comes back. The elf proudly stood in front of you, he pops the lid on the small hoover, Fingolfin looks into your eyes meaningfully, as in to demonstrate to you ‘look how much dirt there is on the floor’.

-        Fingon – bicycle

Fingon was very curious about the metal monstrosity that you called a bicycle. But after you demonstrated to him how to ride it, he was still a bit criticizing of it, saying that one cannot move as much load on this than on the horse, the only advantage of it that came to his mind was that it was tireless, it would not need a food and rest like a horse. You didn’t even have to teach Findekano, he got himself on the bike, and within an hour he knew how to cycle. He really liked it, consider it his now, it is doubtful that he will ever give it back. But he will always invite you to cycle with him. He will sit you in front, for you to be between his arms and to have a full view of where you are going. And other times, if he wants to cycle more extremely, Fingon will sit you at the back, so that you can hold only him, as he speeds down the hills. 

-        Turgon – colourful sensor lights

Your room has looked very boring to you for a while now, the furniture, the bedsheets, the walls and decorum. Turgon agrees with you and when you propose to change things up all by yourself, he agrees, wanting to see what your mind will conjure.

What he didn’t expect, is when he came into your room for there to be weird bumpy strings attached to your walls near the ceiling. Some of them coming down the sides of the windows. When he raised his hand to inspect it, the strips flickered and lit up in a pale-yellow light. Turgon was so surprised by it, he took a step back and nearly tripped over your dressing table. After he gathered himself he raised the hand again, which made the light colour change to a emerald green, Turgon tried again, this time the colour changed to blue. Not what Turgon expected, but he really liked that you did. A week later you will find Turgon waiting for you in dimly lit living room. As soon as you come in he would lift his hand in a very regal motion and reach for the wall, making the corners of the room light up, asking you what colour of a room would you like tonight. He is very proud of it, if his siblings come and they have the same first reactions as he did, Turgon would play indifference - “Oh this? Oh its nothing, just something Y/N came up with... no you cannot have the same.”

-        Aredhel – projector and movies

Aredhel was a little confused when you started to disassemble the sofas in your living room, putting then together, with pillows all around and bedsheets on top, but you ushered her out of the living room until everything was ready, so she couldn’t see you setting up a small projector. When she was finally allowed in, you two sat in the improvised nest, with the remote in your hand, exited to share this with the female elf. 

Aredhel was in a mild state of shock when she saw images light up on the wall with a music coming out of the tiny box. She was so hypnotised by it she didn’t really pay attention to the first half of the movie, only later into the night, she will bashfully ask you to watch more movies. She is very happy, it is a great part of elvish culture to share stories, but this is so much more special, as for her the stories you just watched came to life right in front of her on the wall. She is very grateful, saying that she will treasure this moment as her most precious memory. Her favourite movies will be about romance and adventures.

-        Argon – massage chair

When you offered Argon the big sofa chair that will help him relax, he wasn’t so sure about it. Argon set in the chair, looking at you questioningly as if to say – where is the promised relaxation. But when you pulled a little lever, sliding the chair into a half laying position, Argon immediately stiffened, he thought it broke under him . He might even try to get up, but it’s your encouragement that will make him stay. A minute later the chair starts to vibrate, the pillows squeezing his arms and legs, while machines rolls under the armchair fabric, massaging every part of his body connected to the chair’s surface. Even though he will try not to show it, you can see his eyes start to close a little bit the longer he is being massaged. When you ask him how he is feeling he will give you a long, moan-like “good”. After it is finished he will just stay in the chair for an extra minute, feeling very relaxed and rested, looking at you will a smile of a cat.

Bonus:

-        Celegorm – instant camera

When he found your instant camera, Celegorm immediately came up to you, interrupting what you were doing to ask you about it. Celegorm will take many pictures, close ups, at a distance, the under-face, posing with you, posing without you; collecting and inspecting all of the films as the colours on them emerge. After you shoo him away, Turca will go to find Caranthir, with an idea already formed in his mind. He will silently stalk his younger brother, camera in hand; at the most serene moment Celegorm will jump from the corner with a wild scream and camera flash blinding poor Caranthir. This finished picture will be occasionally waved around at family gatherings to everyone, whenever Celegorm wants to be a little shit to Caranthir. At the end of the day, when two of you will inspect the snaps Celegorm will pronounce pictures of you as the best ones made even if you disagree, no matter how silly they might look to you, now he was something he can carry with him when he is away and to look at you as he misses you.

-        Finrod – electric scooter

The oldest son of Finarfin was very interested in everything electronic, but the one thing he was excited for the most was an electronic scooter. The hidden city of Nargothrond is vast and even roads allow for easy use of the scooter. He will totally use it to get from one end of the city to another, fully adorned in his ceremonial robes with a crown on his head, he will speed through the streets, beeping at other elves to make way, with complete poker face. No one can tell him anything, everyone who seems him leaves their jaws on the floor. After a dozen of such rides the city of Nargothrond is used to him, also you will have to tell him to stop speeding, which he reluctantly agrees to do.

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[theelvenhaven]

Wilting Confidence

Gwindor x Reader

2.1k words

Warning: angstyish, self deprecation

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Dinner had been a rather quiet affair for both you and Gwindor, while usually that was a nice and comfortable silence between the two of you. When it was a dinner with his fellow councilmen it had become a quiet dinner of concern. Work clearly carried over into the dinner despite the wives and husbands present, leaving for most of you to sit in silence as they discussed work matters. 

Mormegil mostly being the reason for this, as Gwindor whispered to you that this had been a matter he had been fighting against Mormegil over. Open warfare against the Dark Vala. It came as no surprise that your husband would vehemently and calmly argue against such tactics, he was living proof of what could be expected to happen should it be done again. He was lucky proof for being able to escape. 

Though quickly the dinner soured as Gwindor once more put his bid in against Mormegil, the council making slights against your husband. Making mention of his inability to even fight against the Dark Vala so why would he add in input… Even going as far to mention how he wouldn’t even be able to protect you if it came down to it. 

It was incredibly unfair yet as you opened your mouth to say something, Gwindor placed his good hand on your thigh. A signal to stop you… Leaving for you two to dine together in silence. You had half expected Mormegil to say something in defense of him, as your husband held a love for him even despite all that befell him because of Mormegil’s presence. Yet he said nothing, only seemingly high on hubris at the council’s praise.

Gwindor’s shoulders had slumped, his gray hair seemingly more dull, and those fine lines seemingly more visible as he furrowed his brows. His expression was one of exhaustion and lament… And now you had witnessed first hand how quick the other councilmen had been to use his disability against him. Rather than listening to his experience and wisdom with such things, and while you knew Mormegil had good intentions… 

You despised him for the council was far more ready to listen to him than Gwindor. Just as quickly did they turn on him and take it all out on him… He had mentioned before that they used his disability against him. You could only imagine what other slights they made against him when you weren’t present for such things.

Your walk back to your room had still been that of silence, Gwindor’s expression still crestfallen and disappointed and you could only imagine what was running through his mind. Though you kept your questions to yourself, until you were in the privacy of your room… As soon as the door opened and Gwindor stepped in he was quick to move to the couch to sit before the hearth.

His hand covering his mouth as he rested his elbow against the arm of the couch, eyes transfixed on the fire before himself. Gently you shut the door, and quietly moved to take your place next to him, placing your hand on his bad wrist. Letting your finger gently rub against the soft skin that was exposed, barely pulling Gwindor from his thoughts.

“Gwindor…” You breathed out softly turning more to face him, he only hummed out to acknowledge you. Frowning softly, your brought a hand up to gently tuck some of his gray hair behind his ear, watching as Gwindor closed his eyes for a moment at the gentle affection. 

“What is on your mind?” You breathed out softly to him, tilting your head some as you investigated him. For a long moment there was only the sound of the fire crackling and popping in the hearth that filled the room as you waited patiently for him to answer. Before finally Gwindor seemed to double over some on his self so dramatically, his arm resting on his elbow and good hand cradling his face. 

Concern quickly filled you and you all but jumped into his lap as you scooted closer, bringing a hand to his back and a hand to his wrist,

“My love… what is the matter?” You asked quickly, as it was so rare Gwindor let himself be so openly emotional before you. Usually it was you he leaned on you quietly, not giving way to his fear or wearing only mild worry on his face or a gentle frown… You could hear the shaky breath he took and you heard the plip of tears beginning to fall into his lap. Your heart twisted tightly in your chest, waiting impatiently for his answer on baited breath.

“I am utterly worthless…” He breathed out to you finally and you frowned deeply at his words, you shook your head quickly at his words. Stark surprise filling you at the sudden self depreciation that left his mouth. Gwindor was always optimistic, and yet... this was not like your love.

“That is not true Gwindor.” You countered just as quickly, beginning to rub his back softly moving to press a soft kiss to his temple as another heavy breath left him. 

“It is true, meldanya… It is foolish to ignore the fact that I can offer nothing to both the council or to you.” You practically hissed at the words that he spoke, knowing that it was far from the truth and that the council's treatment of your husband was entirely unjust and unfair. The fact the King Orodreth had done nothing to stave off the rude comments about your husband's condition infuriated you. You couldn’t imagine just how long this had been going on…

“Gwindor, what in Eru’s name would make you say such things?” You pressed with hurt in your voice, as you were not used to hearing Gwindor’s self esteem be so low. You knew he could get tired and exhausted and overwhelmed… You knew of his nightmares and flashbacks. But this was entirely new to you. Still Gwindor did not raise his head to face you, clearly ashamed of himself and not having the heart to face you. 

“I only speak the same truth in which the council speaks of. I can do nothing to protect you, to keep Nargothrond safe.” He began, keeping his voice even and emotionless as he spoke. Gwindors voice low and raspy, and he brought his good hand down to cover his grey eyes and as you tilted your head to see more of his face, you could see streaks glisten in the light of the fire from his tears.

“I cannot master even what a Prince has managed, with the same ailment as myself… Menial tasks are even difficult for me. Let us not even discuss how unattractive I am as well as added to the list of worthlessness.” Gwindor continued, 

“You have been far deserving of someone fair, strong and more well liked than myself. I was selfish in asking you to be mine.” You felt fire burning through your veins as he finished, openly confessing to you now that you had asked. Typical for Gwindor as he didn’t like to burden you with his thoughts if he felt they were not welcomed or wanted… Gently you brought a hand to his cheek, and he turned his head to face away from you. Fury filled you, though it was not directed at him, it was the fact that the surmounting issues with council helped fester his insecurities.

“Gwindor… look at me.” You whispered, but he didn’t budge. Stubborn… when he wanted to be at least. Quietly you moved from your spot on the couch, kneeling before him and taking his face into your hands, letting your thumb wipe away the trail of tears. He did nothing to thwart your affections,

“You are not worthless.” You began strongly giving him little room to debate or counter against what you said so firmly and full of intense conviction. 

“The council does not speak the truth on the elf that you are. Your worth is measured more than in just your ability to pick up a sword, and I do not expect for you to be as a Feanorian is with a sword, Gwindor. You are not Prince Maedhros, and I do not want a Prince Maedhros.” You began sitting up on your knees to press a kiss to his forehead, lingering for a long moment and allowing your words to settle and sink into his mind.

“You are compassionate, wise, gentle and strong Gwindor.” You knew not everyone would come out of thralldom and have half the optimism he did, though you knew Gwindor had low moments. You expected nothing less,

“You are worthy and provide invaluable counsel to those who need it, you’re helpful and warm. The Councilmen are the ones who seem to be doing everything in their power to not listen to what would keep Nargothrond safe. They are utter fools to not listen to you, and Mormegil equally as so if not more to keep thwarting every word you speak.” Pressing your forehead to his, feeling him move his hands from his face, keeping his eyes closed as you held his face still. 

Leaning up to press another kiss to the top of his head and forehead, you knew you couldn’t fix or solve the problem entirely with your words. But you hoped that at least you could help put some better confidence in him so he could build himself up. Gwindor only sighed leaning forward and to the side, resting his head on your shoulder as you sat up on your knees, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck.

“And Gwindor… You are so beautiful.” You whispered sweetly resting your head against his as you held him, but slowly he shook his head. Failing to see how that could possibly be the case as the days of youthfulness in appearance was gone, his hair grayed even from the torture… it was not so much the scars that bothered him as it had been the aging. Your fingers running through the coarse strands, untangling at your gentle brushing holding him close to you as you two sat together in silence for a moment.

“I adore your grey hair, and how expressive you appear with the fine lines… and missing your hand has never taken away your beauty. I despise how you came to hate the things I love about you, but they’ve never taken away from your beauty.” You whispered to him in his long pointed ear, feeling him finally begin pulling away to look at you. His eyes puffy and red from his crying, and still glistening with tears that shed down his cheeks, and quick were you to bring your hands up to hold his face again.

“If asking me to be yours was selfish, then I shall thank Eru everyday for it. For I want nothing more than you in my life, if it is selfish of you to ask for my time and affections then I beg of you to be more selfish with me Gwindor.” You gave him a soft smile meaning every single word that dripped from your lips, heavily emphasizing every word so he’d know that you meant what you said. 

At this Gwindor sighed beginning to nod his head, swallowing thickly as you searched his face intently. You brought a hand to hold his good one, smiling still at him as you squeezed it with care. 

“How about a bath together hm?” You suggested, thumb gently caressing him.

“And then we lay down to rest.” Gwindor quietly looked over your face, his expression not breaking even still. Slowly he began to nod at your words, prompting you to stand and gently pull him to his feet. Gwindor following your lead, and you hoped that the extra love and affection you could shower him in would help make him feel better. 

Before pulling him along to the bathroom you stood on your toes, gently pulling him down so you could kiss his lips. Gwindor indulging you in your affections, even if he was slightly hesitant, leaning down to kiss you gently. Lips melding softly against yours, and hearing the soft sigh that escaped him at the affection before you two parted slightly.

“I love you Gwindor... And everything about you.” You whispered to him warmly, and finally you watched his face visibly relax and a very faint smile pulling at his lips.

“I love you too, Y/N...” He whispered in return, and at that you gently began to pull him to the bathroom, happy to help take care of him. You only hoped that you could help make Gwindor feel better... and that maybe the council would finally listen to your sweet husband...

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