#silm stuff

[tellescorarts]

Elf posting continues. ✌️✌️✌️

This took a very long time because the only character I really had a design ironed out for was Feanor, so i had to design Finarfin, Fingolfin, and Melkor's form he took in Aman post-unchaining.

This idea came from remembering that part of Silm where Feanor essentially yelled at Melkor to get off his lawn and leave him alone. I got to thinking what if he didn't "get thee gone" and instead just stuck around like a creepy assistant? Everyone's stress levels would be super high all the time that's for sure!

[ezzuka]

Maglor - the northern lands of old

[minahsloves]

I have yet to rub my filthy 'Little' hands all over the Silmarillion but today was awful so the time has come.

I think all 3 of my favorite boys would make great caregivers; Maitimo was the eldest of seven brothers and as many cousins, that dude knows how to take care of children. Similarly with Finno being the oldest of the Indis grandkids, and I just think he'd be good at it anyways. And Finrod is Finrod of course 😌

[ettelenethelien]

Topics of conversation among the elven party come to visit Minas Tirith for Aragorn and Arwen's wedding:

Whether the paintings and tapestries of legendary events made by the city's denizens are accurate

Whether Glorfindel should be shown tapestries depicting his fall

Balrogs don't look like that

Whether Osgiliath really was as pretty as they say

Whether Osgiliath or Annuminas was prettier

Whether the Rohirrim resemble the house of Hador much

Whether Aredhel would have gotten on well with Eowyn (difficult question because on the one hand - gestures at everything - and on the other: Aredhel was a difficult person at times, had never met one of the secondborn and would likely have mortally offended the other within ten minutes)

Another Gondorian woman looking a bit like Lúthien

Why do Lúthien look-alikes turn up generations upon generations after Elros

Does Minas Tirith feature too many stone walls and too little greenery

Is there something wrong with the Noldor for not minding being cooped up within stone walls

There having still been far more greenery in Tirion last time the exiles had been there (7000 years ago)

Whether Tirion was much changed when Glorfindel last saw it (3000 years ago)

Whether Gondorians naming their children after Túrin of all people is taking things a bit too far

Whether an inkeeper should be informed his prized family heirloom is an elvish dinner knife

Whether a courtier should be informed his prized family heirloom had been made by Curufin because on the one hand he might consider it cool, and on the other hand - Curufin

Whether a certain type of cake should best be eaten hot or cold

Can you use osanwë accidentally and is it cheating if it happens while you're playing bridge

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

maglor does the scariest impressions. Once, he walked in on Maedhros and fingon and said in his feanor voice, ‘what is going on here?’ Mae almost had a heart attack.

[enerisart]

Inktober2023 Day 4: Mirror

[cirrdan]

Just

[sesamenom]

Maglor with that silly overly ornamented videogame armor (Curufin made it as a gag gift)

[thelien-art]

Nerdanel, the wise

[ethanray]

Maedhros receiving the Dragon-helm from Azaghâl

For @feanorianweek Day 1

[spruceneedles]

House of Bëor: Andreth and Beril

[tellescorarts]

My roughed out designs for the House of Fëanor.

I used the same base pose for all of them cause this is honestly just so I can reference my own designs, but someday I want to draw an actual family portrait of all of them.

[ezzuka]

The dawn in spring - The child of forest and his eternal spring

Character design by AKA_草木灰

[sakasakiii]

omggggGGGG HI YOU'RE BACK i love your art!! your designs for the characters are so inspiring and unique!! and your art style is just so well-suited to the silmarillion <3 my question is, do you have any headcanons about edrahil? he's my favorite underrated blorbo!

HIIIII long time no see indeed!!! thank you so much for your kind words 😭 it means a lot to hear that you like my designs and my art style! im always brawling with how much im trying to tone out the anime influences and adopt a more... 'realistic'(?) style that it ends up being a giant game of mental gymnastics on most days haha 😂 im still figuring it out, but your words are a great reassurance so i am very grateful for them!!!! 🙇‍♀️

onto your question-- edrahil!! he's definitely one of the blorbos that doesn't get enough attention 😤 i would be lying if i said that im not guilty of this too, since i think ive only ever read... one? fic with him in it waa.... but as always with the professor's work, great fun comes from the freedom with which one can interpret the minor characters! here's one of the first doodles i did of him when i got your ask:

the bread and butter of my male characters always ends up being slender bishonen-types, but one of my goals going forth is to try and adapt myself to not falling to same face syndrome in the future, so i thought itd be fun to start by making edrahil swoler than usual on a whim 🙈 based on his one (1) line the book, he strikes me as a steadfast i will follow my liege to my death type of fellow.... and then it snowballed from there.... and that's how my take on edrahil eventually evolved from stoic-man-who-is-also-a-peerless-warrior into a no-thoughts-head-empty-his-majesty-only bodyguard

i like to think he's much nicer than he lets on and nowhere near as serious as his RBF may suggest! much like the rest of finrod's personal guard (aka his fanclub), their lord's wellbeing and public image come first above anything else. perhaps their strong loyalty should be concerning, but it's finrod i-befriend-Men-and-swear-eternal-oaths-of-friendship felagund we're talking about.... so maybe theyve got their own reasons too lmao

this is getting a bit rambly (IM SORRY) but one extra comic and final thoughts under the cut!

thank you again for your kind ask AND this fabulous prompt!! im guilty of devoting too much of my obsession onto the feanorians, so i always appreciate side character prompts to get the lil squirrel wheel in my brain spinning 💖 i hope this is a satisfactory answer, and that you have a great rest of your week!!

[cilil]

Classic seduction of Mairon:

Big bad sexy Melkor steps out of the shadows, saunters over to a nervous little Mairon and reaches out to touch his cheek, whispering, "I've watched you for a long time now, little one, and couldn't resist your beauty anymore... why don't you meet me outside Almaren at midnight so I can show you everything I can give to you if you agree to be mine...", while leaning in to let his cold breath tickle the shy Maia's ear. Unable to get a word out and blushing so brightly that he outshines the furnace behind him, Mairon barely manages a nod and receives a pleased smirk in return

Alternative seduction of Mairon:

A very nervous Melkor teleports right into the doorway, only to hit his head because he miscalculated, nearly falls over his own feet, smiles awkwardly and leans against the nearest workbench in a desperate attempt to look cool. "So, uh..." he starts, nervously glancing at some smudged writing on his wrist, "I, uh, think you're really pretty and was wondering if you'd... um... like to talk about power and... stuff... sometime..." and then Mairon walks over with the sexiest, sassiest hip swing the poor dork lord has ever seen, causing him to sweat profusely, stands in front of him, grabs himself a handful of Vala ass and says, "Make it a date and I'm in, babygirl"

[youareunbearable]

Against Curufin’s better judgement, he leaves Tyelko in charge of Himlad for a month while he goes off to visit with Finrod down in Nargothrond. Tyelpe, who lept at the chance to be away from his brooding hen of a parent for a moment, had begged to stay in Himlad with Tyelko and Huan.

Against Curufin’s better judgement, he allowed it. He knew his son would be safe and well taken care of as long as his brother and the dog didn’t vanish into the wilds on a month long hunt. The threat of siccing the wrath of their eldest brother onto the blonde if he did vanish and leave his son unsupervised also was a good incentive to behave. 

Against Curufin’s better judgement, he had a peaceful and relaxing three and a half weeks spending time with his charming half cousin, telling himself everything would be normal and fine when he went back. It was honestly a delight to be able to catch up with Finrod in person, gossiping about what the rest of the Arafinwean brood was up to-- as truth be told they were his favourite kin outside of his brothers-- visiting the sights, and spending time in Nargothrond’s somewhat adequate forges. He spent many an afternoon swapping tricks of the trade with the Dwarven and Men smiths that had made themselves a home in the underground city, and it was so enjoyable and educational that he almost regretted allowing Tyelpe to stay behind. This would have been a good experience for him.

It was a handful of days before he was supposed to start the long trek back to Himlad and Curufin was with his half cousin, chatting amicably and strolling through the aboveground marketplace. It was interesting to see such a booming centre for trade, and Curufin spotted many of the traders baring Moryo’s version of the Feanorian Star Emblem on their person or booths. He knew his elder brother had an iron fist on the trade routes in Beleriand, but it was a different thing seeing it in person on non-Fenorian lands. Finrod, it seems, was either used to seeing Caranthir’s symbol all over his markets, or was woefully blind to it, which Curufin doubted. The two browsed the many stalls for trinkets and baubles, Finrod on the hunt to add to his dragon hoard of accessories, and Curufin looking to bring back home something for his son and brother for their good behaviour.

Against Curufin’s better judgement, he didn’t think the messenger hawk that was flying right at them was anything to be concerned about. He didn’t even think it was for him until he saw the scroll attached to the bird’s leg. 

Continue reading below, or on Ao3

Then, Curufin felt his heart falter in its rhythm for a moment. No messenger bird for Finrod would ever carry a written message. His heart proceeded to plummet into the pit of his stomach as he recognized Celegorm's third fastest hawk, the one that his son doted on and normally took out when exploring the mineral deposits in the hold. 

Vilya, he thinks with dread.Tyelpe named the bird diving at him with speed and exhaustion Vilya. The hawk flared out its wings and landed gracefully on Finrod’s outstretched arm, its chest heaving from a very long and fast flight.

Quickly, Curufin reached over and took the letter attached to the bird's foot. Finrod, being the empathic fool that he is, shuffled nervously from foot to foot beside him, craning his neck to try and read the letter over his shoulder. 

Curufin almost crushed the letter in his grip when he read the first sentence.

"Don't be mad, but uncle and I were hunting out near Nan Elmoth, even though you told us to stay away from Eol's lands. We had everything under control, I swear! But, as I was walking along the river bed by our camp, hoping to find some new minerals, Aunt Aredhel and her son burst through the wood!"

Aredhel? A son? Curufin had no idea his half cousin was even married, let alone long enough to have a child. Last he heard, she was missing, along with her brother Turgon somewhere in the mountains. What was she doing near Nan Elmoth? Finrod made a choked sound behind him, like a drowning pig, and Curufin, instincts honed from so many nosey brothers, mindlessly shoved him away as his eyes roved over the letter.

"I managed to catch up with them, and her son- whose name is Lomion- told me they were fleeing from his father! Aunt Aredhel was apparently bridenapped by Lord Eol, were you aware of such a thing? Stealing a wife! Anyways, Lomion told me they were fleeing to his uncle Turgon's hidden home, where Eol would never find them. Gondolin, father! The city uncle Neylo and Fingon have been trying to find for years! And father, I couldn't just leave them! Aunt Aredhel looked so worn, her hair had streaks of grey just like uncle Neylo’s, and they both were so scared! Aunt Aredhel swung me on the back of Lomion’s horse, so I fled with them to Gondolin. Father, I’m so sorry but I was so caught up in the excitement, that I forgot to send Vilya with a message to uncle, to let him know what happened. But, I suppose when I wasn't back by nightfall, uncle and Huan went looking for me. He and Huan tracked me all the way to Gondolin's gates and demanded that they let me go or to let them inside. You should have heard him scream, father, I’ve never seen uncle so furious, I thought he was going to throw his hunting spear right at poor Glorfindel who was guarding the gate.

Oh father, it's been awful. Well, not Gondolin itself, it's a very beautiful city and the forges aren’t that bad, and they have so much mithril here father! Rog, one of the smith lords here says the mountains and caves within and surrounding the city are rich with it, which is incredible! He promised to take Lomion and I to see a mithril mine soon, can you believe that? Veins of the strongest metal just laying around, just think of the works you could make with such quantities! I’ve been talking with Lomion about the mithril jewellery they have here and I have some ideas I think you might like ab–” The sentence abruptly ends, the letters jerking into a smudge, like Tyelpe’s hand was jostled while writing.

With a frantic flip of the page he sees the writing continuing on the back. “Lord Eol showed up shortly after uncle, and he was a raving madman, father. He screamed and swore and made such ugly demands and if it wasn’t for the clear look in his eyes I would have sworn he had not a sane thought in his head. Uncle Turgon had to let him in before he attracted Morgoth’s attention. He and uncle and Uncle Turgon and Aunt Aredhel were screaming at each other in the throne room for a long time. I stayed behind with Lomion and Huan, and father, the poor boy was shaking. I can't believe he lived with such a creature for his entire life! I don’t remember what was said, but suddenly Lord Eol was brandishing his spear and launched it right at us! We would have been killed if it wasn't for Huan knocking away the poisoned spear at the last second. The poison on it must have gotten on him somehow cause Huan is really sick now, but believed to be better soon. Uncle Turgon was furious, he was yelling and demanding Eol's head for daring to kill Lomion, when uncle picked up Eol’s poisoned spear and threw it back at him. Oh father, I wish I could wash the memory from my mind, the way Eol screamed as Uncle Turgon dragged him from the halls, his blood trailing through the street as we followed them to the gate ramparts. Before Uncle Turgon tossed him over the wall Eol spent his last breath cursing his own son, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget how Lomion’s hand trembled in mine as we watched. I didn’t think Uncle Turgon could be so cruel."

Normally, Curufin wouldn’t be able to either. But the thought, no the memories, of what he did to protect his son and brothers during the Kinslaying, well he could easily imagine what his stuffy half-cousin was thinking as he ended that scum's life. His hands shook, just imagining the peril his son was in. What if Eol missed and pierced his precious Tyelpe? Or if his aim was true and his son would have to watch his new cousin die. Bless Celegorm’s unwavering aim and Turgon’s uncharacteristic rage.

Finrod was gripping at his arm, clearly having read the letter along with him. He was saying something, but the words were indistinct and lost to the ringing in his ears.

"Well, father I'm really sorry, but uncle, Huan and I are stuck here for the time being. Uncle Turgon told us we are not allowed to leave, or to tell anywhere where we are. I wasn't allowed to write clues or send a map along with this letter either. Infact, I had to argue very hard to be able to send it at all. Aunt Aredhel helped greatly with persuading her brother. But have heart, father!  Uncle and I are faring well so far, and Huan is regaining his strength by the day! Maeglin and I are becoming fast friends, and it is nice to see Idril again, despite the circumstances. 

I hope you enjoy the rest of your time with Uncle Finrod. I hope I’ll be able to see you again, father. I’ll write back as soon as Vilya returns. 

- Yours dearly,

Celebrimbor"

At the bottom of the letter was a little doodle, one not in his son’s detailed and precise hand, but looking more like Celegorm’s hasty scrawl. The doodle consists of a blobby figure that is clearly Finrod from the sparkles surrounding him and the wide smile splitting its crude face. The figure is surrounded by, annoyingly accurate and tellingly more thought out then the rest of the doodle, birds. They must be singing for there are lines and dots that Curufin realises are music notes around them all. Beside the blob-Finrod, is another hasty doodle, one Curufin could recognize half blind as Celegorm’s terrible interpretation of him. Shorter than blob-Finrod, scowling pout on its triangle face, and his version of the Fenaorian Star drawn on the blob that must be his chest. Little blob-Curufin also has his signature forge hammer in one hand. There was no note to go along with the doodle, nothing to give that hunt obsessed asshole’s side of the event, no plans on how to escape Gondolin, or to contact their other brothers. Not his account on how Tyelpe is handling everything, or some sort of bullshit reassurance for his favourite younger brother who has just read a terrifying account of what has just happened to his only son in his care. Nothing, not even Celegorm’s signature or emblem to sign off the doodle.

Curufin screamed.

His hands wanted to tear that damned letter to shreds but some distant part of his brain not blinded by worry and rage knew to stay his hand to the last thing he had of Tyelpe’s presence on this land.

There were hands on his face, and he looked through the tears he hadn’t realised were blurring his eyes at his dumb stupid half-cousin. Sudden rage shot through his body and Curufin wanted nothing more than to rip into the Elf cradling his face in his hands. If Curufin hadn’t visited this stupid blonde waste of space, he would have been home at Himland, and none of this would have happened! Tyelpe would be doing his forge work, and Celegorm would be off hunting and doing fuck all in the woods like he normally does! Eol wouldn’t have tried to kill his darling little boy, nor would his child be ripped away from him, hidden who-knows-fuck-where with fucking Turgon of all people!

Suddenly, all fury dissipated in his body, making Curufin feel off balance and light headed at the sudden change. 

Finrod, who was still cupping his face in his hands and ignoring the snarling Curufin must have been doing, was humming a lullaby threaded with Power. As he wobbled, feet suddenly unsteady and vision blurring again, Curufin tried his best to rally up his anger again to no avail. He toppled into Finrod’s chest, feeling his older half-cousin scoop him up and cradle him close. The letter was gently plucked from his hand, and unable to fight the Power of the lullaby, slowly succumbed to sleep. 

Fucking Singers, was Curufin’s last thought as he felt Finrod start to move. They never fight fair.

—

It was suddenly and all at once that Curufin was conscious again. He bolted up, arms tossed out blindingly searching for the son he knew wasn’t there. He looked around frantically, heart racing as tried to find a trace of his son, or what happened.

Finrod, however, was sitting at a desk across the room. He was staring at Curufin, a wary smile on his face as he studied his cousin. 

Curufin met his eyes and snarled, suddenly remembering the dirty trick in the market. He shifted, ready to push himself up and throttle his half-cousin for putting him to sleep when he should have been looking for a way to save his son. And his idiot brother he supposes.

When suddenly, Curufin tumbled off the fainting chair he was laying on, having shifted too close to the edge. 

With an embarrassed and frustrated snarl, he shook himself off and leapt to his feet, ready to verbally tear into his half-cousin when Finrod spoke over him.

“Now that you’re awake, cousin, we are ready to head out.” With that he folded up the piece of paper in his hands and stood. “If we hurry, we can leave before the letters I sent out reach your brothers and our uncle. I’m sure Caranthir’s little snoops have already sent their own messages to him about your outburst. If we leave now, we can have a day’s head start on them. The only issue will be Maedhros or Fingon cutting us off at the mountains. We could rest at Tol Sirion, but I’m afraid that would just give those two more time to try and stop us.”

As he spoke, Finrod was striding around the room, his office, shuffling documents around and looking over everything with a critical eye. He nodded, satisfied with the state of his office and turned to Curufin, giving his cousin a blinding smile. 

“Come on now, I had the servants pack up your things and some of my stuff as well!” With that he bent down behind his desk and pulled out two large travelling packs. He tossed the bag with the darker bedroll at Curufin, who caught it and swung it on his shoulders absently. 

Curufin studied his half-cousin critically, all traces of anger gone. “You know where my son is being held?” 

Finrod nodded, “Of course, I asked Vilya. She was never sworn to secrecy about Gondolin’s location, and she loves little Tyelpe too, she knows how much being away from you will hurt him. So between her directions, and my blessing of Ulmo, I know we’ll be able to find Gondolin with no issues.” He paused. “Unless your brothers or our cousins get in the way. I’m very confident that if he gets the chance, Maedhros could very well stop us from going to the city that people never come out of again. Except for Aredhel apparently.” Another pause. “So let’s go!”

Curufin was already at the door, ready to see his son and strangle his brother for letting something like this happen. “Well, an easy solution for not getting Neylo involved, is to not involve him.” He snarked, striding down the halls of Nargothrond at a fast clip. Finrod with his stupidly tall legs following with ease. “Why send everyone a letter if you know they are just going to hinder us.”

“Well,” Finrod snarked back, practically pulling Curufin out of the main doors that were hastily opened by the guard. “I just don’t think it’s a wise idea for three of the Noldorian Lords of Beleirand to just up and vanish within the span of a month. I know your brothers, you know your brothers, and we both know Fingon. This knowledge should be enough to know that the world around us would burn down if we just left without a trace.” Finrod snorted and stopped yanking Curufin as they reached the royal stables.

His horse, a beautiful white and black spotted mare gifted from Maglor’s prized stock, knickered at him. She was eager to be on her way, right beside Finrod’s handsome all-white stallion who looked ready to run on command. 

Curufin wasted no time leaping upon his horse, Finrod mirroring his movements beside him. With a brief mental nudge, letting his mare know we needed to leave and now, they were off. 

The world around them blurred as they raced, Finrod humming a Song that made him and their horses feel energised, like they could run for days without stopping. Soon, Nargothrond was behind them, and they were racing across the vast open plains towards the Crossing of Teiglin. They rode without falter, without distraction. So focused on their journey, that Curufin didn’t even notice Vilya soaring above them, easily keeping pace with the help of Finrod’s Song. 

Finrod shared her directions. Once they pass the Crossing, they must reach where the Sirion meets the Dry River, then she can lead them through the twists and turns of the mountains to Gondolin.

Just wait, Curufin seethed, no one was going to keep his son away from him. Not even his family. 

Against Turgon’s better judgement, he should have known the Feanorians would ruin all of his plans.