#of others that even if they had a change of mind and wanted Maglor around (cough Elrond) they are too late not even because Maglor had been

[deadqueernoldor]

Honestly I think Maglor should drown. Not as poetic anything – the eldest kills himself in fire, the second eldest in water. Not to give one last 'look how wrong Feanor was, he even predicted the fate of the maybe last Noldo wrong'. Not as Maglor killing himself.

I want it to be accidental. Entirely unremarkable just like he was when he was King. Not as an echo of his brother or his father or the Valar. Just. Gone.

[kanafinwe-makalaure]

I have been thinking about Maglor and Finrod again recently and how I usually characterise them kind of similarly on the surface - in their youth, they're eccentric divas who like their attention and their jewellery, whereas in later Ages, they are more mellow and have this slight, but permanent air of melancholy about them.

All of this is really heavily based on my own headcanons, but I think to me and my interpretation of them, the key difference is that for young Maglor, that loud and dramatic persona is a performance and for Finrod, it is not.

In my mind, Finrod is naturally a total sunshine, the type of person you can't help but feel comfortable and happy around. He is that type of person who you feel completely seen by and who you can't help but look at, listen to, and admire. He naturally attracts attention and he loves to just share his music and his happiness with as many people as he can; he genuinely loves talking to and meeting other people and he does deeply care about getting to know each new person he meets - everyone's lives and inner worlds, to him, are an adventure to explore! He's all smiles and flair because that is who he is at his core.

After the First Age, and especially after spending so much time alone, he is, of course, very sick in spirit, and so no longer has the energy to adopt that persona again, nor the will. It is difficult to disentangle his genuine hurt from what is simply his nature, but healing, for him, would include embracing his natural tendencies. This would be extremely vulnerable for him because that persona he embodied in his youth was his shell of protection. Maybe the awareness that he would not have the energy to perform this role anymore is even part of the reason he did not want to return to his own kind during his wanderings - the belief that no-one would want him for his true self, anyway.

It is during the First Age that Finrod first experiences loss and sadness and fear and death and discovers that half of the spectrum of emotion that he has previously never really spent too much time on - whatever grief he had was always small enough to either process or distract himself from, but those strategies no longer work for him and it fundamentally changes him and the way he interacts with the world. I also do doubt if his release from Mandos might not have been premature, so he might not have healed entirely and discovered new, healthy coping mechanisms.

He is still fundamentally a very positive person who seeks to find and spread joy, but everything that he once knew and that does bring him joy is now also tied to painful memories for him. For Finrod, healing would mean finding ways to process that grief and make more positive experiences than negative - which is difficult for him, because he is still not the type of person to dwell on sad things because maybe, it frightens him a little, and that unprocessed grief is felt in the air around him everywhere he goes.

Meanwhile Maglor (I went into my interpretation of him in more depth here) I see as someone whose nature is actually more mellow and melancholic. As a child, he is pensive and tends to spend time alone, likes to ponder the big questions of the universe and is very sensitive and quiet. Unfortunately, in a family like his, to be quiet is to be invisible, and his parents express worry about him being so prone to sadness, so he adopts a louder persona - he must be seen at all costs, he must outshine everyone at all costs. He is especially focused on pleasing Fëanor this way. Given all this, he is secretly very insecure, but hides it relatively well. Few people ever see behind his mask.

However, this means it is difficult for him to make connections that go beyond a surface level. Both with Fëanor and others, his "perfect formula" for being entirely pleasant and likeable never 100% works because the personality he shows to the world is disingenuous, and even the admiration it does get him is based on an act, so his actual self-esteem is not very great. The only thing he is truly confident about his his music, but he ties his entire sense of self-worth to it as a result, which is not great for his mental health, either.

Later, it means he lacks the confidence to stand his ground against Fëanor and Maedhros even when he disagrees, and so shrinks in the shadow of those he follows - until the very end, when they have all left him.

If he returns, it really will be difficult for his loved ones to get used to this more vulnerable version of him, but with time, they would realise he is much healthier that way. Once he builds a new sense of identity that more closely aligns with his personality, he can feel much more secure and build a more genuine connection to himself and the world around him.

[nelyos-right-hand]

I've been reading post-reembodiement fics lately, and Fëanor trying to fix his relationship with his sons/ making amends for his mistakes is a pretty common occurrence in them.

Whenever that happens Curufin is almost always the first to forgive his father, and if Fëanor starts to make stupid choices again, he is often the first to support him.

And I see why many people see it that way. In the Silm, Celegorm and Curufin are their father's strongest supporters and the most ruthless when it comes to following their oath. Curufin is also described to be Fëanor Junior and they probably had a very close relationship.

But what if that changes after the first age?

Through the entire first age, Curufin continued to believe in the oath and their father. Sure, the others followed the oath as well, but I don't think that any of them did it because they actually believed in it.

Maedhros did it because Fingon was dead and he had stopped caring. Maglor, Caranthir and the Ambarussar did it because the oath was driving them. Celegorm did it because he was no longer sane and wanted revenge and bloodshed. He did it because he was hurting and now it was time for others to hurt.

But Curufin still did it for Fëanor. Because yes, right now things were looking pretty bad, but in the end everything would turn out fine. They were going to get the Silmaril, and then they were going to defeat Morgoth, fulfill their oath and make their father proud. Things were still going according to plan. Curufin himself might be unable to see it right now, but that's just because Fëanor was a genius. He had planned for this because he wouldn't have made them swear the oath if he hadn't, right? Everything was gonna be fine, all he had to do was trust his father.

But then suddenly he turned around just in time to see Dior drive his sword through Celegorm's chest. And he didn't even have time to process that because in the next moment he was hit by an arrow, and another, and another, and another.

Curufin didn't live very long after that, maybe two or three seconds. But in that time he realized something.

Things were not going according to plan. They couldn't because there was no plan. Fëanor didn't have any idea what he was doing when he swore the oath. And he most certainly didn't have his sons' welfare in mind at that moment.

They wouldn't get the Silmarils, not even one of them. They wouldn't fulfill the oath and they wouldn't defeat Morgoth. They wouldn't even survive.

Celegorm was dead and Curufin was dying and their other brothers would die soon too, and it would all be for nothing. He had spend the last five-hundred years believing in and fighting for a purpose that wasn't even a real purpose but the fantasies of a dead madman.

He had been betrayed by the person he loved most and now he would die for him.

(Hint-Celebrimbor-hint)

(Alright, so Fëanor didn't actually betray Curufin because that would mean that he did it on purpose or that he had any ill intentions towards him. That, of course, wasn't the case because Fëanor did love his sons dearly, he just, you know, went absolutely mad after Finwë's death. Curufin just feels betrayed because he is dying and stuff.)

So back in Valinor Curufin has the most trouble forgiving his father. That surprises Fëanor as much as the rest of the family cause it kind of contradicts his actions in his previous life but maybe death does that to people.

In the end he does forgive him of course, but it takes some time to fix their relationship and it takes way longer for him to trust Fëanor again then it did for the rest of his sons.

These are just some loose thoughts cause it's the middle of the night and I'm bored but I think it's interesting because it's different from what we usually see of Curufin.

[imclimbingthestairsoforthanc]

Tradition - Caranthir x Reader (Pt. 1)

The fourth son of Fëanor, more often than not, retired early on the Day of the Lamps, and didn't even stay to watch the lanterns set out. Caranthir never cared much for the holidays. You, on the other hand, have missed celebrating dearly since you left your home in Alqualondë, and that might just be enough to change Caranthir's mind.

Caranthir at first couldn’t say whether he was glad or dismayed when he found out your visit to Tirion from Alqualonde was going to be permanent. You were not staying a great distance away from the Fëanorion estate, after all, and he wasn’t sure how having an outsider such as yourself so close to his family would turn out. His parents weren’t known to warm so easily to someone. To his surprise, they were both taken with quickly. Nerdanel had taken an instant liking to you - almost as if you were a daughter that she never had. To everyone’s surprise, Fëanor himself had as well - the temperamental, standoffish crown prince of the Noldor had, in fact, warmed up to the Telerin visitor. Caranthir had to admit, he had more than taken a liking to you, too. The faeish beauty you sported was undeniable, what with your flowing gowns and buoyant smile and starry eyes. Your kind nature only amplified it. It would be a lie to say that Caranthir Fëanorion hadn’t been smitten with you upon your very first meeting. 

This reached far beyond your very first meeting, of course. In fact, the more time you spent around the Feanorian estate, the stronger his feelings grew. 

Nerdanel was the first to notice. Yule-tide gifts from her sons had been few and far between, coming only from her eldest two and her very youngest, who was so thoughtful as to write his twin’s name on the wrapping paper and tell his mother that it was from them both; she was not so naive. Gifts from Caranthir were unheard of; and had Nerdanel not had her harsh bringing up in the house of Mahtan and her marriage to Fëanor to callous her from disquiet over who smiles at who and the likes she would have been hurt, what that her beloved freckled-faced son was giving gifts to someone but not to her, his mother. She pried as subtly as she could, and though Caranthir seemed to have caught on to her intentions after the fourth, ‘That gift must be for someone very important,’ she had already had an inkling for what was going on. 

The rest of the family followed soon after, and Caranthir finally came to terms with it after the incessant teasing of his brothers. Not to mention, he had a sneaky suspicion that Maglor had told everyone about it when he finally admitted it to the minstrel. They would have known anyways - with his yearning expressions and whatnot. It was quite obvious that Caranthir deliberately went out of his way to see you. His want was apparent. He might as well have written it on his forehead.

One could even go so far as to say Caranthir loved you. 

It was something he begrudged, and the unbearable bitter-sweet yearning for you only grew stronger with each click his boots made against the stone floor on the way to his brother's room. He knew you cared for him, that much was evident. You were kind, and carried yourself with charm and poise, but there was something about the prominent blush that plastered your cheeks that told Caranthir there was something else hidden behind the veil of your dreamy eyes - something warmly inviting yet utterly untouchable. Maybe, thought Caranthir, after battling his reluctance to ask for anyone’s help that had festered in him for two days now, Celegorm would know what to do. 

He slowed as he got closer to Celegorm’s room, but his steps were no less deliberate. When he finally reached his destination, he didn’t even need to knock before Celegorm knew he was there.

“‘S open!” 

Caranthir pushed the door open a bit too harshly and stepped inside. He said nothing.

“Well?” said Celegorm with raised eyebrows, “What?”

“What do you know about the day of the lamps?”

Celegorm scoffed, “No more than you do. We celebrate it every year.”

“No,” said Caranthir, “How we do it.”

“Yeah. How we do it - we put the lamps in the baskets, and set them off to fly.”

Caranthir huffed, “Yes, that’s how we do it. How do the Teleri do it?”

Celegorm paused before he stood up with a wolfish grin, “So that’s what this is about?”

“Answer the question.”

“I am beginning to wonder if I should warn her of the dangers of being your little muse. Should I tell her that Caranthir the Dark lurking awaits her here in our fathers house?” 

Caranthir crossed his arms, regretting his decision to come here for help but unable to make himself leave, “She is not my muse, and there is no danger for her. Answer the question.”

“I don’t really know,” said Celegorm, “She said they do pretty much the same thing, but they set theirs out on the sea.” 

“I know that,” replied Caranthir bitterly, “but what do they put them out with? It’s some kind of plant.”

“I don’t kn-” 

“Where does it- where can I find it?”

Celegorm’s eyes inflated in irritation and he stood, “I don’t know what kind of plant it is. Ask Finrod. His mother’s Telerin.”

Caranthir let out a sharp breath in frustration. It was annoying enough to have to ask Celegorm, he didn’t want to ask his cousin. The longer he contemplated, the more he liked the idea of abandoning the gesture he’d had planned all-together. It probably wouldn’t do him any good, anyways. 

“You want me to ask him for you,” said Celegorm, “Fine. That’s fine.” 

“I never said that.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve about had it with your constant pining,” huffed Celegorm, “I’l just do it my dams se-”

“Pining?” said Caranthir, “The hell do you mean pining?”

“Don’t stand there and pretend you don’t know damn well what I mean - and now look, you can’t even ask Finrod about one simple thing! How the hell are you gonna-”

“Whatever,” cut in Caranthir, pivoting on his heel. Though Caranthir loved his family like his mother always instructed him, he wasn’t particularly fond of Finrod. The last time he had seen Finrod was at the Mereth Nuin Giliath - standing next to you with a wine glass in hand, blushes covering both of your faces and your lips stained faintly red. Caranthir was supposed to be the one laughing and blushing and drinking with you, not Finrod, no matter how pretty he was. 

Caranthir shook those thoughts from his head and picked up the pace as he made his way to the dining hall, frustration still evident. The day of the lamps was in eight days, and he still had no idea how to set his plan into action. He supposed, you were coming for dinner tonight, he could ask you yourself. He quickly shut that idea down. If he was going to do this, it needed to be a surprise. 

Upon exiting the residential hall of the Feanorian estate, Caranthir’s ears picked up loud rustling and whispered curses. They had just hired a new gardener, a stout fellow with strong arms but no sense between his ears. Caranthir supposed it was just the old goon making the ruckus, until he remembered it was dinner time already and the whispers began to sound more and more familiar.

The noise grew panicked as Caranthir made his way over to the source. When he was close enough, he pulled the foliage of the shrubs away to reveal none other than his silver-haired brother.

“Celegorm,” he said, “What are you doing?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

Caranthir looked down to the satchel in Celegorm’s arms, “You’ve been stealing wetsto-”

“Shh,” exclaimed Celegorm in a sorry excuse for a whisper, “Someone will he-.”

“Yeah someone’s gonna hear! You shouldn’t be taking those. Didn’t you get caught doing it before?”

“Look, I just really needed them, and the shops were all closed. Just don’t tell anyone, and I’ll pay for them tomorrow. Please, just keep this a secret. I’ll do anything.”

Caranthir raised his eyebrows, and Celegorm knew exactly what he wanted. 

“Fine.” 

The third and middle-most sons of Feanor made their way towards the dining hall, Moryo the Dark’s shoulders straightened a bit more than they had been before he was owed a favor from his older brother. The smell of broiled quail in Nerdanel’s sweet lemon sauce wafted through the air. A mixture of voices - yours and Maglor’s - echoed a sweet tune about the estate. The two shared a glance before entering. 

You stood in the kitchen with Nerdanel offering help, but she denied it. It was no lie that you couldn’t cook, but it was something you didn’t really resent and accepted with good humor. You stopped when the door opened. The blush that spread across your cheeks was too prominent to miss, and Caranthir couldn’t stop the pride that swelled up in his chest. Everyone knew you were blushing because of him.

There was no denying that you thought he was a good-looking man. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders, and those gray eyes of his never failed to make your heart stutter. It came as a surprise to everyone who knew the both of you that you, being so friendly and lively and charismatic, were attracted to the stoic prince of the Noldor. 

Deep down, your liking to Caranthir was one of the driving forces that had you moving to Tirion in the first place.

“Hello, Celegorm,” you said, and a new star seemed to shine in your eyes when you turned to his brother, “Caranthir.”

“It’s good to see you,” he said, before embracing his mother and taking a seat.

You blushed even deeper and smiled in his direction. You missed the amused look shared between Nerdanel and her eldest son.

“I’m glad you’ve joined us, osellë,” said Maedhros warmly.

“I’m glad too,” you replied, “I have been so busy lately: I have received so many letters all at once from Alqualonde. They are asking if I am visiting for the Day of the Lamps.”

Caranthir’s breath hitched. If you went home for the holiday, his plan would never come to life. The silence that lingered in the air before his eldest brother spoke again seemed like an eternity.

“Are you?”

“No,” you replied, rather abruptly, “All my close family has gone back to Beleriand with the Sindar, and the few of my family remaining in Valinor are distant. I do not know them well. I was hoping I could celebrate it with you all like I did last year.”

Caranthir’s heart leaped.

“Of course,” said Nerdanel, “You are welcome here anytime. You should know that well enough by now.”

You smiled.

“That reminds me,” said Celegorm, “What are the flowers that you used to set out each year at Alqualonde? Finrod told me about them once, but I can’t remember.” 

“We use a mixture of things - hydrangeas, and lots of morning glories.”

Celegorm’s eyes lit up with recognition, “Oh, we’ve lots of morning glories, but I have searched far and wide for hydrangeas, and I cannot find them anywhere but the shores of Alqualonde.”

“Really?” you said, “Not even the shores directly east?”

Celegorm shook his head. 

“We made wreaths with them and put them around our lamps and set them out to sea. I did miss it; perhaps this year I will celebrate it in the bathtub!”

Celegorm’s eyebrow twitched - See? I gave you what you wanted. - as he peaked up at Caranthir. Caranthir did not look up from his plate, only pursed his lips and took another bite. Celegorm knew another word would not be said from his younger brother - that look was one of contemplation, and it would not soon be worn off once Caranthir was fixated.

“That is an odd way to reminisce about the past,” said Nerdanel, and you laughed.

The rest of dinner went much this way. Small talk floated about the Fëanorian dining room with the occasional brotherly dispute. Though most of the company fellowshipped late into the night, Caranthir, much to your dismay, retired to bed rather early in. He was preparing for an early start the next day. The trip to Alqualonde wouldn’t make itself, and eight days was hardly enough time to make it there and back to Tirion.

[carmisse]

Fëanáro and his sons-(and daughter) in-law.

X : Rank your children's spouses or partners from one to ten.

Fëanor : ...

Fëanor : I've been waiting for this moment since Maitamo was in diapers!

Fëanor : Findekáno is an eight. He was the first one and I really came to see the fact that he and Maitamo would get married when they had the chance. He is quite nice though because of him I have to see Ñolofinwë's face on weekends at the family dinner. Other than that, it's stranger not to see him at home, I got used to having him there, he's good company.

Fëanor : the first time I met Makalaurë's wife she punched me in the jaw. She is sassy and not afraid to express her displeasure with anyone plus Dae is really very talented, she is also the only person who can manage to shut Káno up, she sings too well, a ten, she is my favorite.

Fëanor : Tyelko was always a free fëa, that's why I didn't expect him to settle down, not even with Irissë and even less with Oromë. That's why Dior was a strange surprise, I don't really know the history of those two and I haven't dealt much with him, he's usually serious, and I don't blame him for that. A seven.

Fëanor : Turukáno reminds me too much of Ñolofinwë; he openly hates me and I respect him for that; but he also makes Moryo smile more often than usual, his mood changes when he's around his husband. Besides they have been together for too long, they never told anyone but Aracáno and I suspected it. He is an eight.

Fëanor : I'm not sure if Findaráto counts, he and Curufinwë have been divorced for a long time, however they also kiss a closet when they think no one sees them. He and Curufin made me grandfather, although at the time there was yelling and a couple of broken things, he took responsibility, and like Findekáno his company is pleasant. He's a solid nine, plus Arafinwë is easier to stand than Ñolo.

Fëanor : Pityo has no husband, wife or partner; unless it's secret, I can't score this time.

Fëanor : Telvo on the other hand, well. He leaves Arakáno, the son, I mean. I must say that the two of them are really adorable, if somewhat disastrous, you don't want to know what an argument between them is. Frankly they are the healthiest relationship I've seen in a long time. Arakáno are a nine.

Plus : Telperinquar's husband.

Fëanor : Annatar is an annoying little shit, I am offended that you think I accept him, if it were not for Tyelpe I would throw him into the void with his ex-husband.

Notes :

Daeron is trans, she is an elleth. When he and Maglor met, the son of Fëanor fell in love with her, he proposed to her a few days after they met for the first time. A hundred years pass before she accepts him, they marry with only trees as a witness, they drifted apart after Doriath.

She was upset for a long time, with her husband and her brothers-in-law.

They meet in Imladris, Elrond is the one who brings them together (he locks them in a room until they talk) Maglor apologizes and she accepts them even though she knows it will take time to heal. Finally, they sail to Valinor accompanying Elladan and Elrohir. Regarding her name, he doesn't really mind Daeron. But her family in-laws call her Dae, Maglor nicknamed her that when he met her, this with her permission.

Amrod has no interest in anyone, he is very tired of everyone.

[imakemywings]

i hope you don't mind me asking, but i'm genuinely curious about how you perceive curufin and celebrimbor's relationship, like from aman to beleriand. honestly, every iteration of their bond, whether it's generational trauma (tough love) or the loving father-son is wonderful (and painful) because, for me, both fit them so much. sorry, i just love exploring their interactions (especially celebrimbor's relationship with his other uncles as well), they have me in a chokehold.

Don't apologize for giving me an excuse to talk about Elves, this is the Talking About Elves blog! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

This is a juicy question! I am obsessed with family dynamics, so I always love considering things like this. First off, I think via canon there are almost infinite ways to interpret this relationship prior to Curufin's exile from Nargothrond. Some are, for me, more believable than others--for instance, I simply struggle to buy Curufin, son of Feanor, as a lovey-dovey father, but there's nothing in the text that strictly refutes it.

I think to start I need to talk briefly about Curufin's relationship with Feanor, because I think he tries (with varying degrees of success) to model much of what he does off of Feanor.

I think Curufin hero-worshipped Feanor growing up, and that didn't really change much into adulthood. He even went into his father's craft, the only one of Feanor's sons noted to do so. He looked a lot like Feanor, he followed his father's footsteps in career, and yet--we never hear of a single noteworthy invention or artistic piece of his. Curufin's name is on nothing. Feanor's inventions require an encyclopedia, and Celebrimbor's work survives well into the Third Age (and arguably into the Fourth), but Curufin? Nada.

And I think Feanor was a very difficult father. I don't want to get in here about whether he was a good father or not because this ask isn't about him, but I do think he was a demanding father. He was brilliant and incredibly driven, and I think he expected a lot from his sons. Add to that that he had seven kids and only so much attention to go around, and the best way to get his attention growing up was to have an achievement. Therefore, I think all seven of them developed some sense of needing to earn dad's attention.

All of this collectively to me ends with Curufin trying very hard to replicate Feanor, but not doing a very good job. Ergo, he was incredibly demanding on Celebrimbor, believing that the best way to handle a child was to raise them to exacting standards, tiger-mom style. But Celebrimbor is a very different person than Curufin, and would have thrived a lot more under a gentler hand. Nevertheless, I think he did try hard to live up to his father's standards--it's just that Curufin could actually end up being harsher than Feanor, which means Celebrimbor actually got less from his father than Curufin got from Feanor. There's also the element of Curufin wanting to use his son to impress his dad, which didn't help (still after daddy's attention after all).

I do think Celebrimbor bought pretty hard into the Feanorian Kool-Aid generally though. He was raised among people who were increasingly fanatical; it makes sense to me that he shared their mindset, because it was the one that surrounded him his whole youth. I think he was all on-board with the revolt of the Noldor, but I think the kinslaying at Alqualonde really gave him second thoughts.

Curufin, I think, has and develops a much more "the ends justify the means" attitude, as well as embracing the Feanorians' descent into darkness a lot quicker than, say, Maglor. But Celebrimbor doesn't quite. I think Alqualonde unsettles him quite a lot, as much as he tells himself it was a mistake, an accident, something that will never happen again.

So he lives with Celegorm and Curufin and busies himself making a life in Middle-earth. By this point in his life, I think Celebrimbor has grown to regret choosing smithing and jewel-craft as a focus, because he can't help but wonder if Curufin would be less strict if he'd gone into some field Curufin didn't really know anything about, which wasn't related at all to late granddad Feanor. (He also wonders if spending less time together wouldn't be better for his and Curufin's relationship.)

And then they go to Nargothrond.

More background: I do not think Celegorm and Curufin, the latter especially, like Finrod. I think generally the Feanorians find the Arafinweans preachy and sanctimonious, and very annoying. So having to go to him to ask for shelter and charity is incredibly grating on Curufin, and liable to make him particularly nasty to Finrod even as he's getting help from him.

However, Celebrimbor thinks Finrod is a delight! Finrod is so much that Curufin is not: cheerful, optimistic, gentle, quick to praise and slow to anger. And he loves playing the uncle, so he's more than happy to take Celebrimbor under his wing a bit and get him settled in Nargothrond. In turn, Celebrimbor warms right up to him and is eager to show Finrod anything he's working on, because Finrod will find something nice to say about even his worst projects. Celebrimbor thrives in an encouraging atmosphere, and he gets from Finrod what he always wanted from Curufin. It has the effect of rousing some old childhood resentment about his dad's seeming inability to be nicer.

Curufin does not approve of Celebrimbor getting "too close" to Finrod. He gets nastier in response.

I think Celebrimbor disapproved of his father and uncle's behavior long before they were officially exiled. I think watching Curufin interact with Finrod revealed to Celebrimbor things about his father he had never wanted to know, like how petty and childish and cruel Curufin can be. And I think Celebrimbor was embarrassed to watch his father behave this way towards someone who had been so generous with them, even in spite of his rocky past relationship with Curufin.

So I think even before Beren showed up, Celebrimbor was reconsidering his relationship with Curufin, and while I think he kept a lot of these thoughts to himself as he was mulling it over, there was chafing in that relationship, but Curufin blamed Finrod and didn't take it seriously.

So when Curufin supports Celegorm in turning Nargothrond against Finrod and sending him out to certain death, after everything Finrod had done for them, I think Celebrimbor was not only horrified, he grieved. He loved Finrod! And I think he was disgusted that Curufin would support Celegorm's plan to force Luthien to marry him, and that they lied to her and imprisoned her.

The events of Nargothrond revealed just how low Curufin could go (and ofc it does get worse later, with the Second Kinslaying and the additional attempts to murder Beren and Luthien) and Celebrimbor realized that far from repenting for the First Kinslaying, Curufin seemed even less moored to any kind of moral code. So I think here he realized he simply could not go along with his father or his uncle anymore. At some point you have to ask yourself about the kind of people you want to surround yourself with, and I think Celebrimbor wanted nothing to do with them anymore. I think it hurt him, to think people he loved were they sorts of people, and I think he was crushingly disappointed in both of them, but particularly after Finrod's grisly death (along with the Elves who had stuck by his side), I think Celebrimbor simply could not justify standing by Curufin's side anymore, and the fact that Curufin never expressed any regret for what he had done contributed to that.

Feanorians barred from rebirth etc. but even if they were not, I do not believe a reborn Celebrimbor has a lot to say to his paternal family. He watched them only get worse from the point where he had disowned them, and I think by the time they're all gone, they disgust and horrify him so much that he really does not want to interact with them at all. I think he would go full no-contact if they were ever around each other again, and at best might accept a profuse apology for all the things they did. Even if they were committed to being better, at that point I'm just not sure there's any relationship there left to rebuild. I think they burned that bridge with him and there's no building it back. Civil distance is as much as they can probably hope for.

So yeah, these are my general baseline thoughts on it!

[witchofhimring]

Maedhros's relationship with his father (headcanons)

note: Angst ahead!

-Feanor was fairly young when he got married to Nerdanel and had his first son. I imagine Maedhros and Maglor to have been born early on that that there was a big age gap between them and the rest. Because of this the two older sons were expected to be mature and responsible from a very young age. This is also because the two of them are closer to the throne than their brothers.

-While Nerdanel may not have a favourite, the one she is closest to is Maedhros. He's just the easiest one to relate to. As a little boy he usually ran to his mother when something went wrong. Not that Maedhros wasn't close to his father, just his mother was a more calming presence.

-I like to think that Feanor was a good father up until Morgoth's influence corrupted him. In the early days Feanor was still hot headed but having children seemed to help. With this new responsibility Feanor worked harder to be more cordial with his family. It also healed the rift between him and his father.

-While Maedhros was good with a sword his interests lay more in the academic area. He liked to read and write, this way he developed an analytical mind when it comes to problem solving. Feanor would even have his son look and run certain functions in the castle.

-While Curufin might be his favourite, Feanor could not chose a better heir. He is very proud of his eldest, even if he does not always show it.

-When Maedhros was born Feanor decided to somewhat bury the hatchet with his relatives and tried to be civil with Indis and his half siblings. Part of this was due to Nerdanels influence. She wanted her children to know their cousins (hypothetical at this point), and was worried that being separated from the rest of the family could alienate them.

-As a child he was closest with his uncle Finarfin as they were closer in age. While Feanor wasn't very close with his youngest brother he knew it made his son happy. As Maedhros got older uncle and nephew still got alone but were not as close because Maedhros now had cousins and brothers.

-Maedhros doesn't know Indis too well. This was mostly because his father always seemed bitter whenever she was around. But she was always so sweet to him. When Maedhros was old enough to understand the situation it did somewhat change his view of her. On one hand she seemed to be a nice person, on the other her marriage to his grandfather permanently altered Feanor's life.

-Maedhros is his grandfathers favourite. He's his first grandkid and his birth brought Feanor back into the fold. Maedhros's interest in history and literature come from his grandfather teaching him Noldorin history. Finwe likes that he could have long conversation with his eldest grandkid.

-As Morgoth's influence starts to corrupt Feanor, father and son drift apart. Maedhros's relationship with his cousins is threatened as his father becomes hostile towards to his brothers (especially Fingolfin). There were many arguments between the two. Feanor started to hate the relaionship between Maedhros and Fingon, and Aredhel and Celegorm. Shortly before his exile Feanor and Maedhros got into a fight over his friendship with Fingon, which resulted in the relationship between father and son being permanently damaged.

-Despite the tension between them Maedhros still went with his father into exile. This mainly came down to him feeling obligated to at least outwardly support his father. The other reason lay in the fact that he felt a bit insecure over his place in his fathers affections. While Curufin being Feanor's favourite had not been too hard to handel for Maedhros, although it did bother him somewhat, it became harder to handel. He would find himself shunted off to the side in favour of his younger brother. So him leaving could be seen as his desire for his fathers affection.

-Part of the reason Feanor's death was so tragic was the lack of closure for Maedhros. After the burning of the ships Maedhros considered turning back, but felt he should continue forward. He intended to speak with his father after the battle, but of course that did not happen.

[blueroses789]

Maedhros's relationship with his father (headcanons)

note: Angst ahead!

-Feanor was fairly young when he got married to Nerdanel and had his first son. I imagine Maedhros and Maglor to have been born early on that that there was a big age gap between them and the rest. Because of this the two older sons were expected to be mature and responsible from a very young age. This is also because the two of them are closer to the throne than their brothers.

-While Nerdanel may not have a favourite, the one she is closest to is Maedhros. He's just the easiest one to relate to. As a little boy he usually ran to his mother when something went wrong. Not that Maedhros wasn't close to his father, just his mother was a more calming presence.

-I like to think that Feanor was a good father up until Morgoth's influence corrupted him. In the early days Feanor was still hot headed but having children seemed to help. With this new responsibility Feanor worked harder to be more cordial with his family. It also healed the rift between him and his father.

-While Maedhros was good with a sword his interests lay more in the academic area. He liked to read and write, this way he developed an analytical mind when it comes to problem solving. Feanor would even have his son look and run certain functions in the castle.

-While Curufin might be his favourite, Feanor could not chose a better heir. He is very proud of his eldest, even if he does not always show it.

-When Maedhros was born Feanor decided to somewhat bury the hatchet with his relatives and tried to be civil with Indis and his half siblings. Part of this was due to Nerdanels influence. She wanted her children to know their cousins (hypothetical at this point), and was worried that being separated from the rest of the family could alienate them.

-As a child he was closest with his uncle Finarfin as they were closer in age. While Feanor wasn't very close with his youngest brother he knew it made his son happy. As Maedhros got older uncle and nephew still got alone but were not as close because Maedhros now had cousins and brothers.

-Maedhros doesn't know Indis too well. This was mostly because his father always seemed bitter whenever she was around. But she was always so sweet to him. When Maedhros was old enough to understand the situation it did somewhat change his view of her. On one hand she seemed to be a nice person, on the other her marriage to his grandfather permanently altered Feanor's life.

-Maedhros is his grandfathers favourite. He's his first grandkid and his birth brought Feanor back into the fold. Maedhros's interest in history and literature come from his grandfather teaching him Noldorin history. Finwe likes that he could have long conversation with his eldest grandkid.

-As Morgoth's influence starts to corrupt Feanor, father and son drift apart. Maedhros's relationship with his cousins is threatened as his father becomes hostile towards to his brothers (especially Fingolfin). There were many arguments between the two. Feanor started to hate the relaionship between Maedhros and Fingon, and Aredhel and Celegorm. Shortly before his exile Feanor and Maedhros got into a fight over his friendship with Fingon, which resulted in the relationship between father and son being permanently damaged.

-Despite the tension between them Maedhros still went with his father into exile. This mainly came down to him feeling obligated to at least outwardly support his father. The other reason lay in the fact that he felt a bit insecure over his place in his fathers affections. While Curufin being Feanor's favourite had not been too hard to handel for Maedhros, although it did bother him somewhat, it became harder to handel. He would find himself shunted off to the side in favour of his younger brother. So him leaving could be seen as his desire for his fathers affection.

-Part of the reason Feanor's death was so tragic was the lack of closure for Maedhros. After the burning of the ships Maedhros considered turning back, but felt he should continue forward. He intended to speak with his father after the battle, but of course that did not happen.

[swanhild]

hi! I did your survey! can I ask what are your own thoughts on the order of the Finwean cousins? I'm trying to decide for a artwork I want to create

Hi anon, I apologize for taking so long to answer this (the last couple of weeks have been hellish). And I need to point out that the survey is not mine, but @ceescedasticity's, so you might want to ask them. I only reblogged it to help with the sample size and because I'm a nerd who likes fandom-related statistics.

That said, this is the birth order I myself have settled on for Finwё's grandchildren at the moment (and my reasons below):

Maedhros Maglor Fingon Celegorm Finrod Turgon Caranthir Angrod Curufin Aegnor Aredhel Galadriel Argon Amrod Amras

(No Orodreth, sorry. I'm an Orodreth son of Angrod truther. It just makes both of them more interesting to me as characters if they're father and son and I enjoy the symmetry of Fingolfin and Finarfin both having four children).

I tried to incorporate what we canonically know about their ages, which is

the oldest child and birth order of each sibling group

that Finrod and Turgon are the same age (born 1300 YT)

that Aredhel and Galadriel are the same age (born 1362 YT)

The first four in the list are just personal preference- Fingon could theoretically be the second oldest (or even the oldest) grandchild, but Maedhros is firmly The Oldest (TM) in my mind and he and Maglor are so inseparable that I prefer them to have been the only grandchildren for a little while until Fingon came along (or Celegorm*, but I prefer Fingon to be born right after Maglor and a bit older than Celegorm).

They are followed by Finrod and Turgon and then Caranthir and Angrod. The latter two being roughly the same age is amusing to me, because instead of being besties like Finrod and Turgon, I imagine they were already getting into fights and throwing sand at each other if you left them to play unattended in the sandpit.

Curufin being surrounded by Angrod, Aegnor and Aredhel age-wise feels right to me as well, as he was canonically close with Aredhel (and if I remember correctly there is at least one version of events where Curufin was close with Angrod and Aegnor as well?) Both Curufin and Aredhel probably looked up to and idolized their cool older brother/cousin Celegorm. (I guess Galadriel already did her own thing even back then, or she preferred to follow Finrod around.)

I chose Amrod and Amras to be the youngest instead of Argon because Feanor would like being the one to provide his father with both the oldest and the youngest grandchild(ren) in the family (a perfect crown prince and heir to start with and a pair of adorable ginger babies to fawn over to end the Finwёan grandchild boom.) Also because I like the idea of Telufinwё ("last Finwё") actually being the last grandchild of Finwё in addition to being the last child of Fёanor and Nerdanel.

Looking at the list written out like that, it seems Finarfin and Eärwen had all their kids pretty closely together, while Fingolfin and Anairё had Fingon and Turgon, then took a little break and had another two. (Maybe Finarfin's and Eärwen's kids were all pretty easy-going for the most part, while Fingon and Turgon were little hellions a bit more difficult to handle? Sounds accurate tbh.)

*I'm not completely sold on the order above. I have considered Celegorm being younger than Finrod and Turgon for example, making him and Caranthir very close in age, which could be used to explain why Celegorm is closer to Curufin- by the time Curufin was born, he could be an "older brother" to him, while a close in age Caranthir could have been more of a rival for his parents' attention and affection growing up.

It's also possible I'm missing some pieces of obscure inforamtion that would change my mind, so if you know of anything, feel free to let me know!

[warrioreowynofrohan]

22, 58, 75 for the fic ask game? :)

I am SO sorry, I was so excited and happy to get this ask and then I never answered it! <3

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

There are a lot of things I don’t know how to do - action, for one. There are a lot of things I’m too lazy to do, like detailed worldbuilding. And all my fics so far have fallen into fairly similar patters - either emotional reflections or emotional conversations. But until 2019 I’d never written any fanfic at all, or even considered it, so there’s no saying that won’t change.

I don’t usually connect with a lot of the writing exercises that I’ve noticed as common on tumblr. I can’t take a one-word prompt and create a story from it, or start out with a trope and build a story around it. I look at the long lists of characterization-building questions and can’t answer most of them for most characters I write, even canon ones. Basically, I’ve never done any practice or any disciplined writing, and when I look at the ways you’re supposed to practise I draw a blank. I just occasionally get an idea that connects with me emotionally and even more occassionally manage to write it down.

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

I like getting a new idea and outlining it, and I like writing down the parts that are clear and vivid in my mind. I’ll usually have spent a while daydreaming about something and mentally assembling it before I start writing it down, and will by then have a sense of many of the key things I want to do. That part is fun! After that it gets into the more challenging parts of pulling together all the other elements that need to be there but that I don’t have the right words for. And I’m downright awful at editing - reading prose that sounds wrong in my head doesn’t make me want to fix it, it makes me want to close the document and walk away!

75. What scene in Ashes took the longest to write? What was difficult about it?

That depends on whether write means times spent actually writing or time spent leaving it alone because I didn’t know what to do! 😂 Chapters 7 and 8 were the longest in the making by far, because I had a sense of the major moments in the emotional journey that needed to happen, but I was having trouble putting them together in a way that worked. Chapter 7, with a lot of help and advice from friends, came together pretty well - the Finrod and Fingon conversations stayed similar to what I had planned for a long while but the timing got rearranged , abd the Finrod-Turgon conversation helped a lot with getting the other parts to fall into place without Maglor having too many repetetive conversations. Chapter 8 was even more challenging abd in the end I’m not sure it did work the way I wanted it to; it was one of the pitfalls of being very much a plotter rather than a pantser, that I didn’t know any way to substantively anend it from my earlier ideas without breaking everything that came after, which was the stuff I wanted to get to.

[magpiecaranthir]

There is a question eating at my mind: how would Tinwë react to Maglor’s version of Old Maggie Took? I’d die for a crossover of the two…

And because my sleep deprived brain likes to come up with weird questions at night, how would she feels toward to my cabbage patch elflings? I already have a few headcanons but I am interested in what you think.

OH OH OH Its gonna be a really long one so under the cut (you gave me an idea and I might as well write a whole fucking fic now bc I couldnt stop lol) ^^

Ok so first how Tinwe would react to Old Maggie?

Ok so in OWWSAF we put it in a tiny paragraph that Maglor died, right? So by all means tinwe doesnt think she'll see her big brother again. But then if we screw the timeline a bit to make it so that she's in Imladris when he and Liló go there for the first time, Lindir recognizes Maglor.

And how would Tinwe react to your Cabbage Patch elflings??

Of course he does. He sometimes watches tinwe paint when she's in the valley and he watched her more than once sketch that face. Even if lindir wouldnt be the one to recognise Maglor, Erestor would. Or anyone else left of the formerly feanorian host. And BOI they would not know what to do.

On one hand, they now have the thrice kinslayer who suddenly popped up from... the shire??? With a toddler????

On the other they have a (known to react very harshly) wife of the captain of the guard who does not speak of her family to others unless it's to remind them that they were the ones holding the North, not the Sindar of Doriath.

By the time the people who realize that problem decide to keep their mouths shut and pray ecthelion has the sense to keep tinwe away from everyone else until Maglor disappears again, Tinwe gets found by Liló.

Of course she does.

And Liló is just a baby but shes a smart baby who remembers the bedtime story Maglor told her about his siblings and she remembers he had a little sister with white hair and lilo obviously is convinced tinwe is that sister (even if she werent, lilo equals white haired elf to Maglor's sister).

So LILO drags tinwe to 'her ada'.

Tinwe sees Maglor.

Tinwe calmly asks for lilo to go play somewhere else. Everybody knows what's coming. Ecthelion manages to get the concealed daggers off tinwe before she charges at that mf and throws him on the ground in a chokehold.

Screaming. Blaming. Absolute guilt tripping and gaslighting on her part (she's going to feel bad about it later bc that's her big brother she has her big brother back maglors there he can cuddle her shes not the last- but first she's getting her anger out. He left her alone. And got a fucking perfect life with a BABY!

She's not going to stop being hostile towards him, but she's doing it lowkey like just occasionally mentioning she got tortured for Celebrimbor while Maglor was doing fuck-all and that's why her hands tremble every so often, or how she has been keeping the dunlendings safe while Maglor was having tea partys (her coming clean about Caranthir and haley's marriage is a WHOLE other conversation they're having at some point) but she's only doing that when lilo isnt around.

She's sweet with lilo. She's a baby. She's cute. Tinwe is a sucker for babies just like she was with Lindir. Teaches lilo how to paint. Encourages lilo to paint on everything in Maglor's smial.

It takes a few years of tinwe coming to terms with Maglor being alive, but the hostility ceases bc that's her only family left that's her big brother he knows her and loves her even in her anger and Big emotions and she doesnt want to lose him again

When she's over it, she goes to the Shire with ecthelion. He says it's to make sure she doesnt get harmed on the way there, but they both know it's because he wants to see that shit for himself.

Oh god she would just flop over like Maglor did. Like what the fuck?? Faint of disbelief. Why the fuck do babies grow like that???

And the second shes digested that change of her reality, ecthelion's just casually like "so... remember how we have a very nice garden?"

And yeah tinwe is hesitant because Doom and shit, but pls she always wanted to be a mum. She always wanted babies and she wanted them with ecthelion.

So yeah. They plant a baby. So what.

While their bby grows she is absolutely doting on the double twins from Elladan and elrohir. Just stealing one or two away for a day or two or five bc they are babies they are so cute 🥺

She's also the first ti see the signs of their neurodicergence bc she's nd herself and remembers well the struggle it was growing up and e.g. not understanding why you wanted to rip the pretty dress auntie Allen gifted you off your back while you're crying so hard you cant speak (hint: the fabric was capital b Bad). So she just starts getting accommodations and dropping hints about how others can deal with these things when she notices them

Their own bby gets born (hatches? Gets harvested?) And of fucking course its twins. Twins with white hair, too, bc tinwes genes bullied Ecthelion's into submission lol.

[sorrowssinger]

The battle of Azanulbizar was dark and gruesome, it brought to mind every horror story that Frerin had ever heard about war and battle from everyone that dared speak of such. Still he fought, trying to protect his father in the press of bodies while still looking for his brother. There was a cry of horror that distracted him and he was knocked aside before he knew it and swept away with the harsh grasping hands pulling him down into the darkness of what should have been their home.

For a while he fought them, fighting to keep the spirits of those around him, those who had also been dragged down into the darkness, up and to give them hope. Gradually it faded and Frerin had to accept that those with him had given up hope. Still he looked for a way out of the darkness. He finally found it by chance when an elf of all things ended up down there with them. Giving the elf his best grin Frerin bowed to him.

"Frerin, son of Thrain, at yer service."

"Maglor, son of Feanor at yours... though I will say no one should be at my service."

"Say... that sword of yers, think it'd be of help getting out of here?"

"That depends, master dwarrow, are you going to be escaping?"

"I'd like to. My brother and sister both probably think I'm dead but with yer help I might get to see them again."

"Hmm, with such a cause I see no reason not to help. You may need to help me walk for part of our journey. I am afraid that our hosts were less than kind bringing me down here."

"Aye, I can do that. Now let's go before ye change yer mind."

The elf laughed and stood, most of his weight on one leg while he adjusted his sword. Frerin ducked under his arm and pointed in the right direction.

"We want to go that way, there are a few hidden doors that way and some of them even lead outside."

"I shall follow your directions, just warn me if we will need to fight."

Frerin was delighted because this elf seemed willing to acknowledge that he did not know or do something Frerin himself did. It was a wondrous change from what many other elves he had seen and heard did. Pleased by this change he took care to pick a relatively easy path that lead them around several groups of orcs and goblins while they traveled towards the surface and the doors that lead there.

It was too easy though and Frerin knew that. He could tell his companion knew that as well based on how the elf looked around warily. Just before they reached a room the elf stopped him and tried to walk to a half buried alcove. Frerin frowned at him but followed, Maglor had trusted him so far and he figured he ought to return the favor.

It was quite lucky he did because not more than a minute after he hid and settled voices and footsteps came around the corner. High shrieking voices of a goblin trying in vain to convince someone that he had been searching and Frerin was trying to focus on the words when something was draped over him. He shot the elf an annoyed look at seeing that some sort of fabric was draped over him but the elf just grinned and gestured later in Iglishmek. Frerin gave him a sharp look but calmed himself and waited for the goblin and whoever was with him to pass out of sight and hearing.

"Alright elf, what was that?"

"An elven cloak can grant, for a time, the ability to remain unnoticed among natural elements."

"Tha was not what I meant and ye know it. Now-"

"I learned it in the First Age. My brothers and I were, for a time, counted as friends by those of Belegost."

Frerin saw the sorrow in Maglor's eyes and let it go. He could hardly imagine losing one brother and from the sorrow he suspected that Maglor had lost many. Rolling to his feet he reached down to help Maglor up from the alcove then he resumed walking. They were nearly to the doors when Maglor stopped and turned, his sword leaving the sheath as he moved. Frerin cursed under his breath and looked around for something he could use to fight with. Spotting an axe he grinned and grabbed it.

"Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" Frerin cried as he leapt towards the first of the enemies that came upon them.

Maglor was silent as he slew those who came upon him and after a while of fighting there was a lull. Taking advantage of it Frerin hurried over to the elf and ducked under his arm once more.

"Come on, let's get out of here while we may."

"Agreed. Let us also pray that it is day not night for they will not follow us then."

Frerin grunted as he continued, half carrying Maglor as he went. Maglor reached forward and pressed his hand against the wall, after a moment he said something in elvish which caused the door to swing open. Seeing Frerin's look he chuckled.

"My nephew helped to create these doors. Now let us go, it is nearly day so we can leave and shut these behind us. Then I will try to see you to your brother."

"No. Yer hurt and ye helped me. Let me see you to somewhere safe first then we can go from there."

"You-"

"I said no."

Maglor sighed then laughed a bit.

"Very well. Imladris is not far from here. I go by Rainor there, but it is a safe haven for all who seek one."

"Then that's were we will go. Now will ye at least tell me what it's called in Westron?"

"Rivendell."

Frerin couldn't help but laugh. Thorin would be so upset when he heard that Frerin got out alive and then went straight to an elvish settlement. Seeing the grin on the elf's face he decided that he was going to make himself a nuisance enough that the elf would at least visit occasionally. It would be grand to see Thorin's face when he realized he would need to welcome an elf and show gratitude for saving him.

[youareunbearable]

I've been thinking, but what if Beren knew Meadhros before the Dagor Bragollach and the Silmaril quest went down

Sure his father was sworn friends with Finrod, but Meadhros was the Watcher of the North, he probably had worked and fought alongside Beren’s father, Barahir of Dorthonion, Lord of Ladros and Chieftain of the house of Beor. Maedhros worked alongside a lot of men, and he was smart and likeable and a strong general, so he probably kept good relations with the Men that lived nearby that would be willing to lend willing swords to help him protect the March.

He maybe even was a guest to Barahir’s wedding, he maybe even sent a gift at the birth of his son. Beren fell in love with an Elf, and that love must have come from somewhere. As a child he must have visited Maedhros’ kept in Himring for a summer celebration that his family was invited to. He had never seen so many Elves before, and they were as beautiful as they were strange. There was one Elf, tall with dark hair, who could sing Songs so beautiful Beren felt as if he could reach out and wrap the sound around him like the world’s loveliest cocoon.

Even the Lord of Himring, the tall being with survival scars and glowing eyes and hair like living fire, looked gorgeous when he laughed. Apparently the singer he just complimented was his younger brother Maglor, and not in fact a beautiful maid. No one seemed to mind his blunder, and Maglor gave him a warm smile and a head pat so all was water under the bridge.

(Years later, Maedhros would continue to tease Maglor that his beauty and voice must be second to Luthien, if his young lover was able to forget him upon seeing her. Maglor just sniffs)

When the Dagor Bragollach happened, many of Beren’s people fled to Maedhros’ fort, and Maedhros kept them safe. When things calm slightly, he might even send out a search party for the missing Chieftain and his son. The scouts return months later with a sobbing Beren and the Ring of Barahir. Instead of letting the man wallow in his grief alone in the wilds, Maedhros would help him, help him be the leader his people need, help him take his grief out on the swarms of the Enemy at their gate, and help him deal with the grief of losing a father. He might even show him his father’s ring, the Feanorian star signet ring that he keeps as a necklace after his father’s death. Tells him how he gave this ring to his brother Maglor when he went off to go fight Morgoth, and how his brother returned it to him 30 years later after his rescue. Maedhros mentors and guides Beren for four years, long yet also just a blink of the eye.

Beren would lead fighting parties, he would become a swift and terrible blade under Meadhros’ wing, and a kind and just leader. But the bounty that Morgoth put on his head is still the same in this version, and he is still chased and hunted by Sauron until he flees into the woods of Nan Dungortheb, then into Doriath, and still falls in love with Luthien at first glance.

She still loves him back just as fiercely, and when Beren asks Thingol for Luthien’s hand, this time when he asks for a Silmaril, it is a snub towards the Noldor who have hosted and trained and, one could argue, even raised Beren. It is still just as an impossible task as before and Beren still accepts.

He knows he cannot go to Maedhros for this, he has his own battles at the North and Beren could never ask him to go back into the Enemy’s hands, so he writes him a letter explaining that he will not be returning home and still goes to Finrod. Celegorm and Curufin still try to stop their foolish cousin and his men from going on this quest. Finrod once again leaves with his small group of loyal men.

Except this time, as they leave Nargothrond, Amras and Amrod ride on to intercept them and encourage them to first rest, plan, and wait for Maedhros’ backup at their fort in Estolad. There they have more Men and Elves that want to join their group, and when Maedhros comes (furious about Thingol, worried about Beren going on this impossible task, sick with the feeling of the Oath forcing him to want to help send this young Man to his doom on the slim chance he might succeed) they create a real plan, get the schedules of the Enemy’s movements, and maps (a map of Fingon’s path into Angband, a map of Sauron and his lieutenants recent movements, patrol paths, and some secret paths that the trolls and slaves they rescued gave, and the layout of Morgoth’s halls that Meadhros himself remembers from his enslavement)

Maedhros also gives him a small, thin blade of Mithril. "It’s to hide on your person, if you get captured, this blade won’t break and is light as a feather." He gives him this blade, not to free himself or the others, as the purpose his brother Curufin had in mind when he made the blade for Maedhros after he was rescued by Fingon, but as another method of escape. The eldest of Feanor’s Sons grips Beren’s arm and tells him that there is nothing worse in Arda than being at the mercy of Morgoth and his pet Sauron. He tells him this blade may seem like a curse, but it is a gift. Meadhros doesn't pray, he hasn’t in centuries, but he dearly hopes that Beren will not have to use it.

This time, when Finrod sings his Song of disguise, it's over much more than a handful of followers. This time, when they reach Minas Tirith they are better prepared to sneak past the fallen city.

(This time, Curufin and Celegorm don’t kidnap Luthien so Celegorm will marry her, but to keep her safe. She still doesn’t appreciate it and still steals their dog. Well, it’s not stealing if the dog escapes with her. This time, when the brothers are still forced to leave Nargothrond, it's not under exile but as a polite but firm request to leave. This time, when they chance upon Luthien and Beren again, Celegorm isn’t fighting over his ego and heart being bruised, but because this bitch stole his dog, and because they made their dormant Oath writhe under their skin, which one could argue is worse. They still lose against the Man and the Half Maiar, and Celegorm’s dog still won’t come home. This time, when they make to to Maedhros’ Himring fortress, they aren’t screamed at for their political fuck ups, but they get a stern “Why do you two always make things so difficult for me” lecture of disappointment while Maglor plays an unsympathetic and taunting accompaniment)

They still fail. Finrod still fails in his battle against Sauron but he is able to do more damage to the former Maiar, and they free more of their trapped men before he is killed by a werewolf. This time it’s not only Arafinweian Elves that fall, but Feanorian as well. When Luthien comes to save him and carry Finrod’s body away, it is Meadhros’ men that send the news to his nephew in Nargothrond, and this changes things.

When they go into Morgoth’s halls again, this time, Beren uses the little mithril blade he was given. This time, he escapes with not one silmaril, but two. One for Thingol, and one for Meadhros and his Oath.

His hand is still eaten with the Silmaril by Carcharoth. And Beren still grieves for the loss, not because he has nothing to bring Thingol, but because he knows he can’t give Maedhros his due if he wants to marry the love of his life.

When he gives Thingol the Silmaril, he also gives a warning before doing so, that the gem may be cursed with Morgoth’s taint and while it’s shine is beautiful, it hides something darker, for nothing so lovely should make people bleed and die for it. And if Thingol was wise, he would give the Silmaril to the sons of Feanor before the Oath and the Curse of Feanor catches up to him.

Melian agrees. She is ignored. This does not change.

Beren and Luthien are wed, and Beren invites the Feanorians on the Hunting of Carcharoth, and it is Amras and Amrod that slay the beast with the help of Huan after it attacks Beren. Huan still dies. Beren still dies. Luthien still dies. Yet the Fenorians gain a Silmaril. This is different.

The Oath is not completed with just the one, but it is sated. This time, the Sons of Feanor do not send a letter to Thingol asking him to surrender the gem. This time Celegorm and Curufin do not threaten to burn Doriath to the ground on a refusal that never came. This time, Thingol does not tighten security on his borders. Melian still suggests that they give the Sons the stone after she catches her husband staring at it for too long. Once again she is ignored. That, at least, does not change.

Luthien still sings her husband back to life. They still retire tp Amros and Amrad’s lands, and this time Beren’s people in Himring join them. Dior is still born, and he plays and hunts with two red headed uncles.

(Nirnaeth Arnoediad is still fought. Maedhros is not betrayed by Ulfang, who had seen the light of the Silmaril the Sons hold, and does not cave to the sweet honeyed words of Sauron. His people are not cursed. And his sons still live to fight to survive the battle. This time, Nargothrond sends forces, and Luthien convinces her father to send troops as well. This time Fingon, and his men are not focused and he is able to defeat Gothmog. Fingon is wounded from this battle, and he still dies, but not to a Balrog. He dies as his father did, managing to land five blows on Morgoth before he is slain and the Dark Lord flees. Morgoth’s forces are dwindled down deeply, and there is a unity amongst the Free People’s of Beleriand. They still count heavy losses, but not as heavy as before. Maedhros grieves the death of his dearest companion, and retreats to Himring. While he was successful, he is still the shadow of the Elf he was before. He still wears golden ribbons wrapped around the stump on his right arm and he still weeps. His brother’s still don’t know how to help him. But this time, they do not suggest a second Kinslaying)

Thingol still dies to the Dwarves. Melian is still wounded and returns to Valinor in her grief. But this time Beren doesn’t kill the Dwarf Lord of Nogrod, he lets him keep the necklace but takes the Silmaril. Luthien, in her anger and grief, curses that the Dwarves of Nogord will one day succumb to their greed and become a stain upon their people.

(Unknown to Luthien or the Dwarves, thousands of years later, it is a descendent of a Nogord dwarf that convinces the King of Khazad-dum to continue to mine until they woke Durin’s Bane. It is a descendant of Norgord that was a spy for Sauron which allowed him to overtake Mount Gundabad. It is a descendant of Norgord that uncovers the Arkenstone. It was Narvi, a descendant of Norgord and Durin’s Folk that marries Celebrimbor, and whose death caused such a profound grief that became a weak point which Annatar was allowed to breach and convince Celebrimbor to craft with him. And it was in Narvi’s memory and honor that Celebrimbor crafted the Seven Dwarven Rings of Power. However, that tragedy could also be blamed on Feanor’s Curse.)

Dior still married Nimloth, he still had two sons and one daughter. His parents still die of mortal age and he once again becomes King of Doriath. This time, he gives his father’s bridal gift to his Elven foster uncles, Amrod and Amras. For this Dior was raised on the belief that this stone was indeed tainted by Morgoth. He knew and saw the death and destruction left in its wake. He heard Feanor’s Twins whisper about their broken eldest brother. How he blames himself for the deaths of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and for the death of the former High Noldiran King Fingon. All because he was spurred on by the confidence the Silmaril gave him. He saw how it turned the greed of the Dwarves into slaying his grandfather and wounding his grandmother. This time, he saw and he wanted no part in it.

This time Doriath is the one to host the refugees of Gondolin. This time, it burns by the followers of the Enemy that followed the refugees there. This time, Elrond and Elros are not raised by the ones who burned their city. But instead they were carried out by their twin uncles Elured and Elurin. This time, they were found by Meadhros and Maglor (they were on the run, as Himring was forsaken and overrun by Morgoth’s filth) who takes in not one, but two sets of twins in.

For all their mannish blood, Elured and Elurin aged more like Elves, and therefore looked and acted like Elves of thirty-one, which meant they were children themselves when they fled their burning home. This is compared to their father and younger sister, who grew like Men and were fully grown by their mid twenties.

Elrond and Elros are still raised by the Sons of Feanor. Elrond still follows his love of healing by trying to help the broken Meadhros, and still learns to sing at Maglor’s knee. Elros still learns to fight and foster his love of leading by watching and copying and learning from Maedhros and still learns to love and care and cook from Maglor. Their travels across Beleriand still make the younger twins open minded and still want to love the other races. Elrond still wants to create a city that acts as a safe haven for everyone. Elros still wants to live amongst men and make the choice that his grandmother made.

This time, Elured and Elurin get a chance to live. This time, Elurin will learn that he loves working with horses. This time, Elured will learn he likes to build things with his hands. This time, they will live long enough to join Elrond in his safe haven of a city, and this time they will help him raise his children, this time they will help guard Celebrain on her travels to visit her mother and their family. This time, they will be captured and allow her to escape back to her husband and their children. This time, it is them that will sail because they can’t escape the feeling of being chased, running wounded through tunnels, and being tortured. This time, Elrond grieves, but his children don’t grow up without a mother.

But that is a tale for another time.

In this time, when the War of Wrath ends, Maedhros and Maglor leave their two sets of twins in Lindon. They gather their brothers who live there, and collect those that don’t. This time, all seven of the Sons of Feanor fight in the War of Wrath in an attempt to take the single Silmaril from Eonwe. Curufin and Celegorm are still slain together. Amrod still burns, but this time to a balrog.

This time their Oath is fulfilled, but for attacking a Maiar it still burns them. Meadhros, lost to the pain of his remaining hand and centuries of grief, leaves his remaining brothers and still tosses himself and one of the Silmarils into the fire of the earth. Maglor weeps, tosses the second Silmaril in the ocean, and tries to drown himself. For it was he who urged his brother to join the War under the cover of taking the last Silmaril, but Caranthir pulled him back, weeping himself.

Amras, weeping, throws the final Silmaril to Eonwe, who has caught up to them. He curses the stone and with the Oath complete, refuses to let it tear apart what is left of his family. Eonwe sends the stone into the sky, and it still becomes a token of repentance, and it is still cast as a star in the sky.

Amras, Caranthir, and Maglor limp back to Lindon, and they are welcomed by Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor.

Caranthir will choose to stay with Celebrimbor in Eregion. He will continue to do trade with the Dwarves, he will continue to make lots of wealth on his trade routes, and he will continue to raise his own Half Elven children he created with Haleth. This time, he will see Annatar for the evil he is and refuse to accept any of his gifts. This time, when Celebrimbor accepts Annatar into his halls, he calls his nephew a fool and he leaves Eregion Numenor. This time, Caranthir will help Elros’ descendants create Gondor and there he will live with his children well into the Fourth Age. He will die being ambushed by a small band of highway robbers traveling to Lothlorien with trade goods.

Amras will continue to travel the world until he finally settles with a band of Green Elves which eventually settle in Greenwood. This band will soon join Oropher's group of Sindarin Elves. Amras will eventually marry a Green Elf and they will have one daughter, Tauriel. Amras will join the Last Alliance during the end of the Second Age, and he will die in battle. His wife will be left to raise their baby daughter alone, and soon she will fade after a thousand years of grief. Tauriel will be raised as a ward of Thranduil’s (in honour of her father, who was Lord of Elves and who’s own brother raised two generations of their children) and becomes dear friends his own son Legolas and spends many evenings babysitting him and teaching him the shapes of the stars.

Maglor will continue to sing by the water, he will still have a hand burned by the Silmaril, and he still will have a mind half lost to grief and guilt. But he will stay with Elrond, Elured, and Elurin in Lindon, and he will join them in Rivendell after the War of Sauron and the Elves, and he will be a grandfather to Elrond’s children, and he will walk Elured and Elurin to the Grey Havens, and he will sing on the shore until he can no longer see their disappearing boat. And come the end of the Third Age, he will sail west with his son and his daughter-in-law with the ring bearers.

This time, the Sons of Feanor will all be reunited on the Shores of the Undying Land.

[polutrope]

Fëanorians as Leonard Cohen Songs

I was inspired by this post by @ma3dhros to match Fëanorians with one of my fave artists, Leonard Cohen.

Fëanor: Everybody Knows

Rebellion-era, totally disillusioned and pissed off. Imagine this playing as he’s dying and looking at the towers of Thangorodrim, knowing they will never overthrow them and making his sons recommit to the Oath any way. Musically it also has the right tone. 

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking

Everybody knows that the captain lied

Everybody got this broken feeling

Like their father or their dog just died

Nerdanel: In My Secret Life

I don’t love how it positions her in relation to Fëanor and her children (i.e., men) but it’s also the feel of this song, musically - it’s softer and gentler than most, and yet determined in its rhythm. 

Looked through the paper

Makes you want to cry

Nobody cares if the people

Live or die

And the dealer wants you thinking

That it's either black or white

Thank God it's not that simple

In my secret life

Maedhros: Almost Like the Blues 

This was hard. Maedhros is such a leviathan in this fandom and I don’t feel I have spent enough time with him, but the below lyrics were way too on-the-nose to resist.

I have to die a little

Between each murderous thought

And when I'm finished thinking

I have to die a lot

There's torture, and there's killing

And there's all my bad reviews

The war, the children missing, lord

It's almost like the blues

Maglor: You Want It Darker

I mean, the angst is off the charts (but also totally rational?)

If you are the dealer, I'm out of the game

If you are the healer, it means I’m broken and lame

If thine is the glory, then mine must be the shame

You want it darker

We kill the flame

Celegorm: First We Take Manhattan

I’m sorry. I really don’t like Celegorm. I know he was okay once, I just can’t get over his post-Bragollach behaviour, which is what this song refers to. (Yes this song is actually about fashion so not that aspect)

They sentenced me to 20 years of boredom

For trying to change the system from within

I'm coming now, I'm coming to reward them

First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

I'm guided by a signal in the heavens 

I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin 

I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons 

First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

Caranthir: It Seemed the Better Way

Sympathetic!Caranthir. 

I better hold my tongue

I better take my place

Lift this glass of blood

Try to say the grace

Seemed the better way

When first I heard him speak

But now it's much too late

To turn the other cheek

Curufin: Why Don’t You Try

Ohhh I struggled with you, Curufinwë. I am not satisfied with this choice, but just imagine positioning him in relation to Fëanor. I don’t know whose POV this. I kind of like the slow, choppiness of the song itself, which contrasts a LOT with my choice for Celegorm. I guess this could be a Curufinrod song but I don’t know that ship well enough to say. 

Do you wanna be the ditch around a tower?

Do you wanna be the moonlight in his cave?

Do you wanna give your blessing to his power

As he goes whistling past his daddy, past his daddy's grave

I will probably change my mind about this one. 

Mrs. Curufin: A Street

I didn’t even know this song before browsing for this post but had to add in Curufin’s wife for it. This is if she followed him to Middle-earth.

You left me with the dishes

And a baby in the bath

You're tight with the militias

You wear their camouflage

You always said we're equal

So let me march with you

Amrod (crispy): Joan of Arc

This is a bit on the nose, but why not? 

It was deep into his fiery heart 

He took the dust of Joan of Arc

And then she clearly understood

If if he was fire

Oh, then she must be wood

Amras+Amrod (raw): Who by Fire

Yeah, I picked another fire song, what can you do? Amras gets this to himself in the Crispy!Amrod canon variant. I mostly just like that it’s a series of questions, like the Ambarussa are a series of questions. And probably had a lot of questions about their choices, and how everyone they knew was going to die and they (or Amras) last almost to the end and why? I have a pretty developed headcanon for Amras where he’s pretty much disillusioned and just dead inside from the time Amrod dies, but also a bit manic. So the series of questions and their weirdness (”merry merry month of may”) works for that. 

And who by fire, who by water

Who in the sunshine, who in the night time

Who by high ordeal, who by common trial

Who in your merry merry month of may

Who by very slow decay

And who shall I say is calling?

Celebrimbor: Anthem

I don’t have a ton of thoughts on Celebrimbor cause I’m a bit of a First Age puritan I just don’t ever feel I’ve run out of FA material to contemplate. I want to let him have a crack to let the light in, thought, at least for a while.

Ah, the wars they will be fought again

The holy dove, she will be caught again

Bought and sold, and bought again

The dove is never free

Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in

Bonus

Melkor: The Future

I considered this for Fëanor but it’s just So. Dark. it cannot be anyone but Melkor. I don’t personally Angbang so I don’t have a good grasp on it but it could be Angbang?

Your servant here, he has been told

To say it clear, to say it cold

It's over, it ain't going

Any further 

And now the wheels of heaven stop

You feel the devil's riding crop

Get ready for the future

It is murder 

[skyeventide]

A name

the twins for @feanorianweek and here on AO3

Ambarussa is his brother, the brother who is his mirror image. 

Ambarussa puts his arm around his shoulders and laughs aloud, and Ambarussa rarely finds quips and jests quite that amusing, but he joins in, if nothing else because the sound of his brother’s laughter is bright as bells and bubbling like streams, and contagious. 

Ambarussa, when he is angry, scowls deeply and lifts his chin up, and his nose curls at the sides, the same expression, Ambarussa has noticed, that descends on Tyelkormo’s face; and when he is with his brother, Ambarussa matches that frown with precision. But when he is alone he twists his lips instead and, askance, shoots a quick glare.

« Ambarussa », his brother, who is his mirror image, calls.

And Ambarussa calls back. 

*

Their father has never looked kindly upon that. 

He has ever pressed his mouth in a tight line, a muscle in his jaw jumping, his eyes cutting to the side, away from them, and one who knows their father less would mistake his discomfort for anger. 

« You are Ambarto », their father snaps, an evening when his mood is more frayed.

Their father has a way to demand silence without even hinting that it is what he wants. But Ambarussa, who is his brother, was born with a proud and steady boldness in his spirit and is not at all deterred. « Me? », he asks. 

« No », their father replies, his voice already mellowing. « You are. »

And his beautiful but forge-callused hands touch Ambarussa’s head in a caress. 

He tastes that other name on his tongue, but the sounds roll wrong. 

*

No one else minds, especially not mother.

*

The first time they speak of this, their hair has already begun to change, making them subtly different from one another; they have learnt to hunt with skill, and Ambarussa has taken to the working of copper with his mother and grandfather. They are in the forests, fletching arrows under the golden shadow of chestnut trees.

« I asked mother, one time », Ambarussa admits.

His brother snorts. « I asked father. »

« And what did he say? »

« That even at birth we looked greatly alike but even so we were not the same child, and therefore mother should not have been so bothered if he begged her for two different names. To which I said that he was one to talk, with how he named Curvo. »

Ambarussa chuckles. But then he prods, « And how did he answer? », for certainly his father answered.

« It was different, he said. His name for Curvo was a title, hers for us a prophecy. »

There is something his brother is not saying and it is the first time in his life that Ambarussa’s mind does not mingle seamlessly with his own. Ambarussa thinks nothing of it, or tries to. 

It is only much later that he learns the whole story.

*

Their brothers begin calling them by other names, when their hair has changed entirely, one darker like garnets, one lighter like the copper jewels he has wrought. 

So he is Telvo, and Ambarussa is Pityo. 

Ambarussa enjoys the nickname, but doesn’t use it for his brother -- after all, he often calls his brother only by thoughts, a tug to the spirit as natural as breathing.

*

« What did mother say? »

« That our name was the truth of her heart, and if truly we hated it, we would one day each choose an epessë or be given one by others, and that would be the truth of ours. »

*

It was Umbarto -- that was the other name.

It is Ambarussa who spits it to his face, with the bluntness that is his wont, in the dark hour in which they pack a few light belongings to leave Aman forever. Mother is outside the house, silent and solemn like quiet waters, and Ambarussa has not greeted her.

« That is what she called you. No wonder father wanted it changed. »

Ambarussa spits it to his face when they learn that she had come to ask for her youngest child to be left with her. He has not been a child for many centuries, for countless decades.

« If people in our family », he says under his breath, with a sharp look askance and his lips pursed in a line, « bothered to ask others for their thoughts rather than making them the object of their assumptions and bargains, perhaps one could speak their mind and their wishes with more honesty. »

« The hour in which I see you speak your mind directly, Ambarussa », his twin replies, « I shall throw a party. »

He glares at his brother also, who is his mirror image.

*

He looks at his mother one last time, and it isn’t longing, it isn’t fear, it isn’t a roiling sense of betrayal that this other name was hidden from him, nor nostalgia. None of those, all of them, but then his brother’s thoughts mingle with his as they used to, lending him a jolt of determination. 

*

It is told of Ambarussa that, on the shores of Beleriand, he was the only one of his brothers other than Nelyo who could stand straight before their father and hold his gaze with defiance. 

He does not remember that -- he was not there. Though sometimes his brother’s memory fuses with his, when they speak without words, and he too sees it, and sees their father’s inexpressibly luminous eyes shining with the hardness of diamonds.

All he remembers of the long night of Losgar is the smoke he woke up to, the scorching pain as he ran into the flames, the impact with water, the untold torment of his limbs as he was cradled by despairing arms, there on the wet sand of an unfamiliar land.

* 

All their brothers give their names in the new tongue to the grey elves of the north.

Nelfin Maedhros. Cónafin Maglor. Turfin Celegorm. Morfin Caranthir. Curufin Adareg and his young son, Celebrimbor. 

Nibefin Amras. 

His scars circle the back of his left hand, and crawl from under the collar of his clothes to hug his jaw, the burnt skin gleaming silver and uneven. The etchings of his fear and grief, hidden and present, rejected and accusing. 

« Telufin », he says to the elves of the Mithrim lake. 

He breathes in and smiles, a chilling curl to his lips.

« Amrod. »

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Do you have any personal headcanons about Celebrimbor's mother and her relationship with Curufin? I always thought that it's weird we don't have even the barest information about that considering Celebrimbor's unique position as the only next gen Feanorian. (Sorry if you already talked about this somewhere!)

thanks for the ask! i have, but i'm not going to pass up an opportunity to blather on about my ocs for several paragraphs

curufin's wife (she lacks a name because i hate giving characters names and will delay it until i absolutely have to) is noldorin, she lives in valinor in the years of the trees. i haven't thought much about her family, but i suspect they're middling nobility at the highest the did-valinor-have-social-classes debate is a whole different rabbit hole. she's a metalworker like her husband (she probably specialises in a slightly different subcategory but idk enough to say what) and is a member of the same tirion artisan guild. it's in that context that they meet and begin their Intense Crafting Rivalry

you know that trope where a pair of rivals are so obsessively devoted to one-upping each other it's blindingly obvious that what they actually want is to kiss? that's them, that's their relationship. their specialties are just similar enough they do a lot of the same stuff but just different enough their approaches tend to be radically divergent. what starts as the two of them trying to prove the superiority of their own artistic circle or whatever evolves into them trying to show up him/her specifically, s/he's wrong about x and i know i can do better, why does my family keep asking if we're dating yet????? their competition gets absolutely ridiculous in ways only a pre-scarcity society can get, like building an entire fountain out of solid silicon specifically because he said she couldn't do it (he actually said shouldn't but screw him (not literally cousin oh my valar))

but yeah. their relationship grows an undercurrent of the-only-one-allowed-to-push-around-my-archnemesis-is-me, and they find themselves fighting back to back (occasionally literally) when tirion guild politics takes a turn for the tirion guild politics. they just slowly come to trust each other, more than anyone else, and soon there comes an appropriately dramatic moment for them to suddenly kiss. they're still always trying to out-craftself each other, celebrimbor grows up in a house that's about 70% forge to the background noise of his parents insulting each other's work, but they're comfortable with each other in a way neither of them could have imagined in the early days, and when things get rough they always have each other's backs

things do, in fact, get rough. maglor won't meet his wife until beleriand, caranthir's relationship with his spouse slowly falls apart along with the political situation in tirion, but curufin's wife is loudly team fëanor. she suffers from an acute case of finwean spouse disease, she thinks going to middle-earth to build their own world is an awesome idea, she's deeply embedded in the tirion artisan scene with an entire social circle as think the same way, and when the inevitable civil war flares up she'll probably be even more eager to fight the fingolfinians than her husband. she goes with him and their-still-pretty young son to formenos, and when the trees get eaten and fëanor does the speech she prepares for the adventure of a lifetime

then, alqualondë. i stand by my conviction that nobody on the noldorin side walked in planning to steal the boats, let alone murder the teleri, but it was dark and the world was ending and everybody had sharp things. like everybody else involved in the first kinslaying, curufin and wife got caught up in the battle because somebody shouted 'they're attacking us!' in the distance. she is at first more trying to stop them from stabbing her, obsidian fishing spears glancing off ornamental steel, but then she lashes out and she hits someone in the chest and -

there was this recurring trope in her and her husband’s endless mutual critique. she’d create something beautiful, artfully devised and elegantly constructed, showing off a whole ton of design principles and doing things with the material no one had ever done. he would look at it skeptically and go ‘okay, but what use is it? what is it for?’

red liquid running down the fuller of the exquisite sword she forged herself, light guttering out of another elf’s eyes as he coughs up blood, she knows, sure as once were the light of the trees, what the piece of metal in her hands is for

the next few moments are a blur. she threw the sword into the water, she knows that. somehow she wound up running out of alqualondë, tears streaming down her face, as buildings burned and people screamed behind her. she found a concealed spot by the road, tore off her armour, peeked outside, and watched. when the fires were dying down and the boats were clearly gone, she mustered her courage and went to save her family

in the centuries to come, very few people believe celebrimbor when he tells them his mother tried to get his father to come back by, among other things, appealing to his better nature. nobody believes that it almost worked. but curufin was still only starting out on the road to hellbeastery, and his wife was his eternal partner-in-crime. right there at the beginning, staring out over a burning city, she saw where the road the noldor were walking would eventually lead them, no matter how much they tried to deny it. no dreams could be worth that, she told him. no ideals. and she was always the idealist, wasn’t she?

she was. maybe that’s why he, who had so very few ideals to mark his path, refused to abandon this one. their discussion rapidly devolved into a screaming argument half the camp could hear, much like curufin’s last argument with celebrimbor, centuries later. soon enough, though, it became clear that he wouldn’t turn back, and she refused to go on, and neither of them could change the other’s minds. the only thing left between them was celebrimbor

celebrimbor was eight (-ish in elf years), and completely freaked out, and eight, and knew almost nothing about what was going on, and eight, and had grown up listening to his grandfather’s dreams, and eight, and was surrounded by adults who very loudly thought going to middle-earth would solve all their problems, and eight, and couldn’t tell why his mother was abandoning them. panicking, on the spot, he buried his face in curufin’s smock to wipe away his tears. when he looked up, she was gone

so yeah, curufin’s wife went back with finarfin, that’s why she didn’t go to middle-earth. she initially stayed with nerdanel because almost everyone else on both sides of her extended family remained by (and later burned) the boats, i’m only just realising the horrible curufin argument probably wasn’t even the only one she went through that night, jeez. also she really needed a hug. the sun rose, alqualondë started rebuilding, and she ended up head of her and her husband’s former mutual craft guild, mostly because nobody else with the skills to do it was left. decades turn to centuries, news slowly filters back from beleriand, and her worst nightmares are proven so awfully right

probably the biggest emotion she feels towards curufin in the aftermath is betrayal. they were partners, in every sense of the word, they took on the world and they did it together, using their constant competition to drive each other to ever greater heights. they listened to each other, they trusted each other’s judgement, and she knows he understood the point she was making. him continuing on anyway, and diving face-first into the void - the elf she thought she knew would never have done that. as time passes by, the grief and the loneliness get subsumed by a deep abiding rage. if she ever sees the thing her husband let himself become again, she’ll throw a welding torch in his face

but that anger, that heartbreak, none of that applies to her son. when the hosts of valinor began gearing up for war - she’s the leader of tirion’s most prominent metalworking guild, she can’t not go. while they’re unloading supplies and siege equipment and stuff onto the isle of balar, she happens to pass by this relatively short dusky-skinned noldo hauling some smithing equipment about. as soon as he gets a proper look at her, he gasps. she looks back in confusion, and then she meets his eyes

later, she’ll hear his tales of his adventures in the hither lands, all of the hardships, yes, but also all of the brilliance. later, she’ll learn about the person he’s grown into, someone she can be unreservedly proud of in his choices and works. later, they’ll talk about the future, about his ambitions of making his grandfather’s dream come true, but with open hands and a light to be shared with all the peoples of middle-earth. for now, though, she wraps celebrimbor in a massive hug, and lets the tears flow down her face, because no matter how much they’ve lost, no matter how deep the darkness around them, right here and now, her son is alive