#story time with oromë again

[echo-bleu]

Disability pride request? Two characters of your choice hanging out, maybe one using two forearm crutches and one using two canes. They can be friends or partners - I just generally love seeing disabled characters interactng with one another!

How about three disabled characters?

Once upon a time @camille-lachenille sent me a prompt about Míriel having Ehler-Danlos Syndrome. I had already sketched a disabled Celegorm with EDS in mind and, thinking about how it's genetic, had an epiphany about Celebrimbor (and the meaning of his name) and I drew him as well. So I wrote a fic about all three of them dealing with chronic pain, but I still hadn't drawn Míriel. That oversight is now fixed!

They have more in common than just chronic illness xD.

This is still titled "The EDS gang" in my files, I'm going to stick to it. Set sometime in Fourth Age Valinor, when most things are good again...

Disabled Tolkien characters series

(Feel free to send me more disability prompts! I love drawing them.)

More ramblings about disability aids that devolved into bullet-point headcanons under the cut. ID and transcription at the end, but they're also in alt text.

[CW: this is all fairly light but discussion of death and trauma and you know, everything that comes with these three.]

I do not know how to make comics. I'm sure that's very obvious but, you know, learning new things and all that. One thing I learned was that my usual style of rendering does not work with it as well so I rendered them entirely twice.

It was meant to be day 21 and 22 of my October challenge, because surely I can draw and colour a full page in a day (spoilers: no). In the end it was a combined 15 hours of work over 3 and a half days because I made it as complicated as I possibly could 😭 Still, I had fun and learned a lot.

Note: Ehlers-Danlos syndrome is a connective tissue disorder, affecting basically how your cells are glued together. There are a lot of different symptoms (and different types of EDS) but a frequent one is joint pain and hypermobility, and it's at least partly inherited.

Míriel:

Red was Míriel's colour first. She's not into gaudy things and rarely wears vivid colours, but almost always something red. She barely wears any jewellery since reembodiment, mostly for sensory reason (She is very autistic. That's something she gave Fëanor, Curufin, Caranthir, Ambarussa and Celebrimbor, at least.)

She died of post-partum (and general) depression and energy depletion from childbirth or something, but the chronic illness that was taking all of her energy and keeping her from her craft certainly didn't help.

Also pregnancy was horribly rough on her, partly because EDS can be affected by hormonal changes.

She's actually been better since reembodiment, because she has better accommodations (Finwë did his best but he was very lost) and also a Vala on hand who makes her very good painkilling tea.

She wears knitted compression gloves that she designed to help with hand pains.

Her wheelchair is of Noldor make, but I'm sure Celebrimbor will have suggestions for improving it.

The tapestry that she is weaving is actually this painting of Finrod that I did a while ago. I figure that she's representing calmer, nicer things now that she doesn't have to weave her grandchildren's downfall and deaths.

Celegorm:

He was in a relationship with Oromë before the Exile. After his reembodiment, it took them a while by they talked it out and forgave each other. Oromë doesn't quite get elves, but he's really supportive.

He has a pair of wolf-head canes carved by Nerdanel. He alternatively uses both, just one and sometimes none depending on activity/pain level.

He wears bandages as compression garments because this is a world without elastane. His leggings have reinforced knees for support.

He's always heard about Míriel having the same thing as he does from Finwë, and he knew that when he started showing symptoms, Fëanor was terrified that he'd fade too. So for a long time, Míriel's story was kind of hanging above his head.

That's why it takes him a while to go seek her out after he's reembodied. Celebrimbor understands why it's important to him and he pushed him to it a little bit, so Celegorm dragged him along.

They're going to get along great. Míriel is both the quintessential grandmother and also she has a twisted sense of humour that Celegorm will just love.

Celebrimbor:

Celegorm was always his favourite uncle, and they became very close when Celebrimbor started having symptoms in the early years in Exile, and Celegorm stayed with Curufin in Himlad for him.

It took Celebrimbor a while to forgive him after Returning (not as long as Curufin but still) but they've gone back to being really close.

He was really unlucky with reembodiment: while he wasn't reborn with the physical aspect of his torture, the memory of pain and the trauma made his chronic pain a lot worse than it was before, and he can no longer walk unaided.

He designed the silver ring and wrist splints back in Eregion with Narvi's help, and ended up literally living up to his name (which means "silver fist/grasping hand").

Paradoxically these were a great motivation for him to work through his trauma and go back to the forge, because he couldn't find a silversmith in Valinor who could make good enough ones for him, even with all of his sketches and specifications.

A lot of his work since reembodiment has been designing and making disability aids for people.

He uses platform crutches to spare his hands as much as possible. He invented and designed them, of course, as well as the KAFO brace that he wears here. He's also a part-time wheelchair user.

He is still wearing dwarven beads in his hair. He obviously didn't bring anything back from Middle-Earth but he asked Gimli to make them for him in remembrance of Narvi. His tunic is also dwarven-inspired.

He is pretty chill about Sauron here. I don't know if there was a redemption (I have feelings about @chthonion's The Harrowing and @mynameisjessejk's Otter Mayhem) or if he's just been through enough elf-therapy to be able to joke about it. Celegorm's sense of humour is just Like That.

Celegorm and Celebrimbor are about to try Vairë's special painkilling tea for the first time 👀

Between all of them they should really open a disability aids shop or something. They just might! Míriel doesn't really ever leave Vairë's house but I think Celegorm and Celebrimbor will keep visiting her a lot, and eventually all of the grandkids will as well.

Image description and transcriptions:

Two digital comic book pages.

Image 1: The first case takes the whole width, showing two pairs of feet with each two canes/crutches on a tiled floor, with a speech bubble saying "Do you think she'll want to see us?"

The second line has two cases in 2/3 and 1/3 format. The first shows two hands in red fingerless gloves working on a tapestry on a loom. The second shows part of a light-skinned face in profile, with curly white hair. Three speech bubbles say "My love?" "Um?" "There are people here asking for you."

The bottom part has one case off-center showing the same hand undoing the brake of a wheelchair, with a speech bubble saying "Your grandson and your great-grandson." above and one saying "I'll be right here." below. Then a full-length off-case portrait of Miríel, a light-skinned elf with shoulder-length curly white sitting in a wheelchair and pushing herself. She's wearing a pale pink embroidered dress with red accents, red fingerless gloves and elbow pad and brown boots and smiling.

Image 2: A single large case shows two elves standing in a room with a tiled floor, with a large door and two tables behind them. There are thread spools on one table and a tea set on the other. One elf, Celebrimbor, is brown-skinned and slightly chubby, with long black hair in a braided bun, wearing a red tunic and dark green pants. He is leaning on two decorated platform combo crutches made of wood and metal, with a KAFO brace on his leg. He wears finger and hand silver splints. The other elf, Celegorm, is pale and has long white hair in a high ponytail with small braids, he has tattoos on his neck and arms and he wears bandages on his shoulders, elbows and wrist. He wears a green tunic, leggings and wrap-around gaiters. He is leaning on a cane and holding up another cane, pointing at the first elf. Both canes have handles carved in the shape of wolf heads.

The speech bubbles are arranged around and below them, giving this dialogue, with the speakers distinguished by the shape of the bubble (the parts in parentheses are smaller text in the bubbles):

Celegorm: "My lady, my name is Tyelkormo, and this is my nephew Tyelpë." Miríel: "I know who you are, my wonderful children. Come sit." Celebrimbor: "That would be nice, thank you." Miríel: "Vairë, my love, would you make us some tea?" Celebrimbor: "My lady!" Celegorm: "A Vala who can make tea! (I could never get Oromë to do it.)" Miríel: "It was a long domestication process." Vairë (off screen): "Hey!" Celebrimbor: "Instant hot water! That’s nice. (I wonder if I could replicate that.)" Miríel: "She makes wonderful hot water bottles." Celegorm: "Oromë just uses his hands as hot pads." Celebrimbor: "Ew, I didn’t need to know that." Celegorm: "What? Just because your Maia burns everything he touches–" Celebrimbor: "Shut up." Miríel: "You must both tell me everything about yourself. And your partners!"

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Silmarillion Daily - Of the Finding of the Elves

This was one that struck me hard on the reread, because the parallels between Oromë encountering the Elves for the first time, and Finrod encountering Men for the first time in Beleriand, are so strong.

In both cases, they come upon them while hunting, on the edge of the eastern mountains, when they hear them singing:

And on a time it chanced that Oromë rode eastward in his hunting, and he turned north by the shore of Helcar and passed under the shadows of the Orocarni, the Mountains of the East. Then on a sudden Nahar set up a great neighing, and stood still. And Oromë wondered and sat silent, and it seemed to him that in the quiet of the land under the stars he heard afar off many voices singing.

Finrod Felagund lord of Nargothrond journeyed east of Sirion and went hunting with Maglor amd Maedhros…In a valley among the foothills of the mountains, below the springs of Thalos, [Finrod] saw lights in the mountains, and far off he heard the sound of song.

In both cases they see these new people and love them not in spire of, but because of, the fact that they are different from themselves:

And Oromë looking upon the Elves was filled with wonder, as though they were beings sudden and marvellous and unforeseen…And Oromë loved the Quendi, and named them in their own tongue Eldar, the people of the stars.

Then Felagund, standing silent in the night-shadow of the trees, looked down into the camp, and there he beheld a strange people…Long Felagund watched them, and love for them stirred in his heart.

Here is where things diverge - and I think this is very intentional on Finrod’s part. He grew up among the Valar. He would have heard the story of Oromë first encountering the Elves hundreds of times, and he’s suddenly found himself in a parallel situation. And he would remember from the story how so e Elves reacted when Oromë, a Vala, suddenly appeared among them:

Yet many of the Quendi were filled with dread at his coming; and this was the doing of Melkor. For by after-knowledge the Wise declare that Melkor, ever watchful, was first aware of the awakening of the Quendi, and sent shadows and evil spirits to spy upon them and waylay them. So it came to pass, some years ere the coming of Oromë, that if any of the Elves strayed far abroad, alone or few together, they would often vanish, and never return; and the Quendi said that the Hunter had caught them, and were afraid…Thus it was than when Nahar neighed and Oromë indeed came among them, some of the Quendi hid themselves, and some fled and were lost.

And some of these elves who hid or fled were captured by Melkor and turned into Orcs.

So Finrod thinks of this, and decides he doesn’t want to risk startling them and thereby endangering them. So he waits until they are all sleeping, and then goes down and plays music, and because of the beauty and the dreamlike feel of things, they are not afraid and don’t run.

Now men awoke and listened to Felagund as he harped and sang, and each thought that he was in some fair dream, until that he saw that his fellows were awake also beside him; but they did not speak or stir while Felagund still played, because of the beauty of the music and the wonder of the song.

In a way, it’s no wonder that Men at first mistake Finrod for a Vala - he’s reliving the experience of the Vala who first discovered the Elves, and he’s trying (and succeeding) to use that history to do better. And this continues in his later dealings with Men. The Valar gave the Elves a binary choice: come to Valinor and we’ll teach you and keep you safe, or stay in Middle-earth and you’re on your own. But Finrod leaves the choice up to Men: Bëor wants to come with him to Nargothrond, the others choose to stay in Estolad, later generations come to live in Dorthonion, and he does his best to look out for them and advise them whichever of those choices they make. I suspect he’s thinking of the history between the Elves and the Valar again here, and wondering what might have happened if the Valar had taken a different approach.

Now, that does not last. The Valar were not able to keep the Elves free from harm even in Valinor, and Finrod, who does not have a Vala’s power, is still less able to keep them safe in Beleriand. But he’s doing the best he can. And I think it’s the shock of that moment in the Fen of Serech, when not only is he unable to get to Dorthonion to help his little brothers and the House of Bëor, but the men of the House of Bëor are saving him and losing their lives doing it, that prompts his oath to Barahir. On the flip side, for Barahir, you can contrast this reaction to that of Fëanor and many of the Noldor at the Darkening. The Darkening is when the Noldor realize the Valar can lose; and the Bragollach is similarly when Men see that Elves can lose. But because Men’s relationship with Elves is already to some extent a collaborative one, seeing them lose just makes them seem more ‘human’ rather than prompting the sense of betrayal the Noldor seem to have felt towards the Valar.

[lordgrimwing]

Love of the Ainur: Finwë & Manwë

[for Day 1 of Ainur Week, hosted by @ainurweek, also a continuation of a fill for @silmkinkmeme]

“Manwë,” Finwë said, a heart-felt prayer to the chief of the Valar who had granted his kin entry into Valinor and who saw all from atop Taniquetil. “Lord of Valar, if ever I’ve earned some small favor from you, please keep your eye upon my son.” There was more to say, but he choked on the words.

A breath of wind tugs at his hair where it came loose from the braids.

This is Aman, he reminds himself. This is Aman, and bad things do not happen to children when they disappear. When a Teleri child too young to swim falls from the dock, a wave pushes them back to shore. When a Noldo child slips from the rocks while climbing, an eagle catches them. There are no terrible accidents. There are no terrible things hiding in the dark. They left those behind in Arda. 

“Manwë,” he tries again. The wind pulls on him. He leans out the window. “Manwë—”

The wind howls into a tempest in his ears, drowning out his words. A strange weight suddenly grows in his stomach, and then he is no longer in the palace. He is no longer in Tirion. He is no longer in the mountains he’d claimed for his people. They are all passing away far below his feet. 

He is terrified, but the wind takes his air and he cannot scream.

As suddenly as it began, the journey finishes. 

Finwë stands on shaking legs in the center of a great room. The ceiling is domed and so far above his head that as he looks up he thinks he sees clouds under it. This is Ilmarin atop Taniquetil, he realizes and sinks to his knees on the polished stone of the great chamber. 

There, above him and below the clouds, sits Manwë. 

“Finwë,” says the Vala. His voice is as bright and as clear as the first time Finwë set foot in Valinor, carried there by Oromë. “Stand, friend.”

Read the full story on AO3

[unendingwanderlust]

It's a blackout! Bingo card from @feedthefandomfest.

All the fics I read and commented on (aka massive fic rec list!) below the cut!

Fandoms: 12 Tolkien (Lord of the Rings, Silmarillion, the Hobbit) fics, 11 Buffy the Vampire Slayer fics, and a couple of Lost Girl fics because I'm nostalgic.

Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die: The Art of Control by zombiesam (BtVS, Buffy/Giles, 5056 words)

Giles and Buffy are stuck in the library together after a succubus blasts them with a particularly nasty poison. Giles learns a thing or two about Buffy along the way.

Threesome: How Drusilla Saved Christmas by TheClowniestLivInExistence (BtVS, Drusilla/Buffy/Spike, 3070 words)

Drusilla doesn't want to spend Christmas alone. She doesn't want her Spike to be alone, either. Unfortunately, he was a silly boy and hadn't managed to romance the Slayer yet. But no worries. Mummy knows how to fix things.

Shower Sex: A Quiet Moment by eurydice72 (BtVS, Buffy/Spike, 1003 words)

When you come back from the dead, quiet moments are hard to find.

Sex Magic: Grave Clothes by Skyson (BtVS, Buffy/Giles, 7272 words)

Giles used magic to help Willow feel again. He helps Buffy with that, too. It's Grave, but shippy. Well, more shippy than canon already was.

Angst & Fluff & Smut: Where Do Dwarves Go When They Die? by LittleMissCactus (LotR, Gimli/Legolas, 1262 words)

Legolas begins to understand the implications of what it means to love a mortal. Gimli comforts him the only way he knows how.

Size Difference: Lazy Day by starlightwalking (LotR, Gimli/Legolas, 1742 words)

Legolas insists on spending all day in bed.

Rough Sex: Don't trust the Fae by Ben_Phantomhive (LotR, Boromir/Legolas, 1921 words)

Legolas catches Boromir taking care of himself when he should be on watch, so he decides to help him.

Fingering: A House of Nettles by Ias (LoTR/Silmarillion, Tar-Míriel/Éowyn, 6494 words)

Éowyn is not healed. Inside of her, something hungry lives on.

BDSM: Blood to Iron by Tyellas (Silmarillion, Maedhros/Fingon, 3703 words)

The origin story for "Ansereg AU" slash, featuring Fingon, Maedhros, and elegant, deliberate sadomasochism.

Public/Semi-Public Sex: Sweet (Enough to Eat) by zombiesam (BtVS, Buffy/Giles, 1935 words)

Buffy discovers something new about herself when Giles gets into one of his moods.

Dom/sub (undertones): fairest maiden in tirion by Anonymous (Silmarillion, Curufin/Finrod, 1000 words)

Findaráto blinked at him and smiled sweetly; in that rotten way that Findaráto did anything sweetly in the first place, his eyes cold and too bright. “You must be so very displeased you couldn’t marry me, Curvo."

[Mommy] Kink: kiss it better by TechnicolorRevel (BtVS, Faith/Buffy, 2438)

Buffy jams her finger, and Faith teaches her something new about herself.

FREE: WICKED COOL by Val_Creative (BtVS, Willow/Vampire!Willow, 700 words)

Vampire Willow doesn't know how the hell she got here, but she's enjoying this new side of Willow.

Drunk Sex: Staying Alive by hchollym (LotR, Aragorn/Gimli/Legolas, 5128 words)

After the victory at Helm’s Deep, the Three Hunters celebrate still being alive for another night.

Sex Toys: The Edge of Flames by BaccaratBlack (Silmarillion, Elwing/Maedhros, 5687 words)

After ages together as unlikely companions on Elwing’s lonely isle, she has her ways of both comforting and haunting Maedhros.

Orgasm Delay: the face of someone (i don't know) by guin_ramble and zombiesam (BtVS, Giles/Buffy, 9593 words so far)

Buffy, newly resurrected and in the throes of depression, seeks comfort in all the wrong places. When her despairs threatens to completely overwhelm her, she turns to the person she trusts most.

Rimming: Aphrodite Awakening by BaccaratBlack (Silmarillion, Celegorm/Oromë, 1298 words)

Celegorm is not above playing a little dirty to get what he wants. Orome, as usual, is tired and underestimates Celegorm’s intensity when it comes to sex.

Shameless Smut: On Borrowed Time by Arbryna (Lost Girl, Bo/Tamsin, 1557 words)

What if the time loop didn't restart as quickly as we thought?

[Blood] Play: kiss that’s black as sea by evesock (BtVS, Wishverse!Buffy/Vampire!Willow, 4879 words)

Buffy hooks up with a vampire in a sleazy motel. Written for Otherworldly Chemistry's Femslash Ficathon!

PWP: Beyond the pale by Morgause1 (Silmarillion, Morgoth/Sauron, 4841 words)

Freshly promoted to the position of First Lieutenant, Mairon gets the dubious honor of standing guard in the rare occasions the Vala retires to his bed. This is a strange, disconcerting duty, which leaves the Maia thinking and feeling things that are not only highly improper, but are downright dangerous.

Phone Sex: Warmest Part of the Winter by dollylux (The Hobbit, Bard/Thranduil, 11315 words)

Thranduil has to leave town suddenly for work, leaving Bard with their four kids.

Fluff & Smut: The Best Gift... by ElleV (BtVS, Buffy/Giles, 4556 words)

Some might say the best gift is a gift for two.

Come Eating/Swallowing: lukhdel by enbyofdionysus (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Thorin, 4048 words)

"Your fourteenth share," said Thorin, running his hand along the side of his cock. "If you should want it, Master Burglar." Bilbo fucks Thorin on the hoard of Thror.

Double Penetration: Finished by girlpire (BtVS, Darla/Angelus/Spike/Drusilla, 1443 words)

As often happens when William engages in a new-to-him sexual activity with his family, he doesn't really understand what's going on at first.

Or: Sometimes people say it's hard to get Angelus to take it up the ass in fic. I present a counterpoint.

Oral Sex: But Not Like That by LittleRock17 (Lost Girl, Bo/Tamsin, 8710 words)

Bo made her way towards the woman, hiding in the nearby crowd since the blonde was looking around, trying to find the brave or rather stupid person that just bought her a drink. She gave up and glared at the bartender, who just raised his shoulders, making her know he wasn’t going to talk. Finally, the blonde picked up the martini and when she was about to drink, Bo made her entrance. "I thought you weren't taking any drinks from strangers." The Succubus said playfully. The glass never touched the blonde’s lips. "Bo." She left the drink on the counter and turned around to face the younger fae. "It hasn't been so long... I thought you would remember how I like my vodka." Her trademark smirk present on her face. . . . Being in a Dark Fae bar on Valentine's Day was depressing but Bo's hunger couldn't wait. She expected to find someone - anyone - to satisfie her hunger with but she never imagined she would get so lucky. Or maybe she did not. Valkubus.

[swanmaids]

🐅, 💛, 🕊 and ✨️ for Celegorm? (<- this is me trying to hold back lol); also ✨️ for Starwing if you're generous?

Love love love you for this one.

Celegorm

🐅 - Characterization: character habits, personality, etc.

Positives - proactive, charismatic, quickwitted, intelligent (& has a lot of esoteric knowledge), ambitious, loyal*

* - to a point.

Negatives - impulsive, quick tempered, callous, spoiled, self centred, self destructive, misogynistic, domineering, frequently careless, jealous.

Likes - the smell and taste of the forest air, the freedom to roam, feeling important and adored, boar hunts, horse meat, fermented mare’s milk, proving himself to be cleverer or more competent than others, the bonfire smell, rough and hard sex (on either side), very cold or very hot baths, battlefield adrenaline, the mixture of exhaustion and elation after a long day of hard activity.

Dislikes - boredom, the feeling of wearing metal armour, the taste of most fish, embarrassment, feeling trapped, indecisive people, cold rain, walled cities, introspection.

💛 - Familial relationships

As a young child, was closer to his nanny/wet nurse than either elder sibling. He slept in her bed and went to her first when his parents were not available and he needed comfort. When Celegorm was a young child his older brothers were already late adolescents/young adults and building their own lives, and had little interest in the new baby. Plus, Maedhros and Maglor’s relationship was too close for the addition of anyone else.

🕊️ - Platonic relationships (friends, enemies, etc).

I do enjoy the draft idea of Celegorm and Curufin being close friends with Aegnor and Angrod in YT era and even wanting to take them onto the swan ships. I think when Nolofinwe’s people reached Beleriand, Celegorm had some hope that the friendship would pick up again, but A&A couldn’t forgive C&C, so it didn’t.

During his time with Oromë’s hunt, Celegorm was friendly with some of the other hunters, but his closeness with Oromë meant that they always kept him at arms length to some degree, either out of jealousy or confusion over the relationship.

✨ - Worldbuilding or background story elements.

Was never quite able to give up the hunting rituals that he learned from Oromë while in Beleriand, and even taught several of them to a young Celebrimbor - while entreating him not to tell Curufin. And in turn, Celebrimbor found himself carrying the rituals with him long after he wanted nothing more to do with his uncle, and passed them on to his friends and students as well.

~

Earendil/Elwing

✨ - Worldbuilding or background story elements.

When they got married, the public exchanging of vows (I.e. the version without sex lmao) took place on the deck of Earamme in front of a small group of their closest family and friends shortly before Idril, Tuor, and Voronwe left. The after party was at Sirion’s town hall and basically everyone in the town showed the fuck up for THE biggest party in Sirion’s history. Tales of that night were spoken of long into the third age….

But Earendil and Elwing didn’t feature in many of those stories, because they left the party early to get married in the Elvish way.

[aylen-san]

An emissary from the future

Finwë's son... He couldn't even say whose son he was! No one could say anything definite about him, and that gave him an advantage. After all, before Kanafinwe Macalaurë had joined this group of quendi, no one knew who Finwë was or where he came from. And so, for some reason unknown to him, Maglor found himself in the distant past, long before he had even been born in Aman. Here, on the shores of Kuivienen, even before he met Oromë, Macalaurë Kanafinwe had sat among other elves and listened to songs composed under the stars.

He tried to adapt to his new life, hiding his true origins and knowledge whenever possible. Macalaurë soaked up the atmosphere of the Age of the Firstborn, savoring other lands unfamiliar to him. He was amazed by the beauty and grandeur of the primordial world, where every day was filled with discovery. In fact, there was no such thing as day and night. In fact, only the stars twinkled in the dark blanket of the sky.

Maglor knew he had to be careful and attentive not to give away his knowledge of the future. Though he was not sure he was any good at that. His goal was not only to survive, but to fit into this society, to find his place. He savored the moment, sitting under the stars, listening to the songs that spoke to his soul.

Maglor touched the grass by the lake with his fingers, feeling its freshness and softness. He lifted his head and looked up at the vast sky, where the constellations created for the first elves shone brightly. These stars were the same as in his time, but seemed more alive and closer. The sounds of laughter and the melodies of elven songs, reflecting the joy of newfound life, filled the air around him. He felt a part of that harmony, of that early and innocent age. These Quendi had not yet known the fullness of darkness and the struggle against it, nor had they been torn by conflict. The hilt of the sword burned his palm, reminding him that he came from a time when blood and battle were the order of the day. Of course, Maglor could have thrown it away, but he stifled the thought as soon as it arose. This idyll is only outward. Morgoth is still at large, and dark creatures roam the vastness of Arda.

How is it that his name is Finwë now? It's a long and sad story. It wasn't long ago that Maglor was forgiven by the Valar and allowed to return to Aman for his contribution to the fight against Sauron. After nearly all the Eldar of the Fourth Age had left the shores of Middle-earth, Kanafinwe decided it was time for him to leave as well. His heart was filled with hope and relief as he once again set foot on the sacred lands of Valinor. But for some unknown reason, perhaps through the intervention of a force he could not understand, he found himself here at the beginning of time.

He had to survive among those who did not know him, who did not know his deeds and sins. He adapted by becoming someone else. The name Finwë became his new identity, and no one questioned it. Perhaps it was a blessing from the Valar, giving him a chance to start his life anew. In the company of the little-known Quendi, Maglor felt a long-forgotten sense of youth. His body felt light, unburdened by his long years in Middle-earth and the effects of fighting evil. He wanted to sing with them here, at the dawn of his people's time, under the glittering stars, to find joy in music and art again.

Time passed and he gradually became part of this community, learning from them and sharing his songs. His new comrades accepted him as he was, asking no questions about the past. In this world without war and hostility, he could feel free and real again. Every day brought new experiences and he savored every moment. Sometimes, when he was alone under the stars, he remembered his former life, but those memories no longer brought pain. He had found his place here, among his ancestors, and felt that he had finally found peace.

In their simple dwellings, woven from branches and covered with soft moss, he found comfort and peace. Maglor marveled at how cozy and warm these primitive homes could be. Each evening, the elves gathered around a common hearth, where they prepared food from what nature had given them: the fruits of the trees, roots, and wild honey. They told their stories, laughed and sang, and it was in these moments that Maglor felt a part of their family.

He learned many things: how to fish in the clear waters of the lake without a rod or net. How to weave baskets from reeds. How to make potions from healing herbs. Maglor studied the skills diligently, trying to be useful and not stand out from the others. Every day he became more convinced that here, at the dawn of time, it was possible to start a new life, to leave all the mistakes and sins behind. And for a while, he pretended that guilt and fear of an uncertain future did not bother him. After all, he is not the real Finwë!

[kanafinwe-makalaure]

1, 10, and 22 for choose violence asks?

Thank you so much for your ask! These were so fun to answer!

🔥Send me a number to see more violence🔥

1. the character everyone gets wrong

Fëanor, and in a specific way - namely, his relationship with the Valar pre Melkor. I keep seeing this notion of Fëanor having been distrustful of the Valar from the start, and I just do not believe this makes much sense. He was their special little guy! They loved and adored him! Aulë said he was the greatest of the Eldar! Varda hallowed his Silmarils! Oromë accepted his son into the Hunt and even gave him a magical puppy!

To me, the most subtle, but telling piece of evidence is that when the Valar decreed that if Finwë wished to marry Indis, Míriel would have to remain in Mandos, whom did Fëanor blame? Not the Valar. Had he been inclined to distrust them in any way, he would have blamed them, I think, and not Indis and her offspring. It would have certainly been easier for him and his everyday life would probably have been a lot smoother if he didn't resent the people he (probably) lived with, but the Valar far away in Valimar.

Do I think Fëanor was super religious? Maybe not; there must have been some sliver of doubt that Melkor was able to work with, at least subconsciously. But I do think Fëanor never consciously doubted the Valar until Melkor came - that was the whole point of Melkor being there. I could see Fëanor really basking in the attention they gave him, and I can see him being best friends with Aulë in particular.

10. worst part of fanon

You thought I was going to bring up the Void again? Wrong! That is for another day. Today, I will speak on Fëanor and the relationship with his little half-siblings being portrayed as, well, horrible. I have already seen a post going around about how his relationship with them was probably a lot more nuanced than “he despised them” (I will look for that post and link it if I can find it); this is more about his treatment of them. This is just a small thing, but it is so important to me - namely, I despise Fëanor being in any way hateful or even just mean to them when they are children.

He is presumably old enough when they are born to understand that (even in his mind where he blames Indis for all his misfortunes) it is cruel to be mean to literal children, even to ignore them when they speak to you or want to play with you. I am fully convinced (and this is my personal headcanon of him) that Fëanor, no matter how he felt about them, would be nice to his little siblings in their presence. He would not ignore them or dismiss them, ever, because he could not. What he does is avoid his family altogether, by being home as rarely as possible. He loves to spend time at the forge or out camping with Nerdanel because being away from home is the only way he can avoid the dilemma of "the mere existence of this child reminds me of all my issues and trauma but he is so adorable when he asks me to read him his story book and I could not physically say no even if I wanted to, which I do not because I'm not a MONSTER."

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

I made a post about this before, but after the Doom of Mandos is pronounced, Fëanor adds a line to it, just one line - that the deeds of the Noldor shall forever be remembered in song. Coincidentally, Maglor (who presumably never finds out the Doom is lifted, if Mandos could even lift Fëanor’s addendum with it at all) ends up wandering the shores of Middle-Earth forever in lament ...

Oh, it's just so beautifully painful and so narratively satisfying. A small detail that is easily missed, but it just seems to fit too well for it to be a mere coincidence. I think about it very often.

On a more cheerful note, I also love the passage of the Silmarillion where Finrod goes hunting with Maedhros and Maglor, but gets bored and simply rides off.

Really, that is what he does, that is what happens. It sounds as if he doesn't even tell anyone, he just rides off not to return. I like to picture Maedhros and Maglor panicking because they're worried people will think they murdered him or something.

[cliozaur]

Of the Valar in the Ages of the Trees

So, Quenta Silmarillion represents a slightly different story from what was partly told in Valaquenta. It introduces elements of which the first-time reader has no prior knowledge at all. I can imagine how confusing it must be when reading it for the first time: Who are the Noldor? How are they different from the Vanyar?

It’s so amazing that Aulë is in charge not only of crafts, but also an expert “in tongues and in scripts, and in the figures of broidery, of drawing, and of carving.” And in gems as well!

 Manwë is already engaged in the fun activity of “sending the eagles”—they are spirits in the shape of eagles watching over distant lands and seas. But it’s still amusing.

Only Ulno, Yavanna, and Oromë still care about what is going on in Middle-earth. I love that Yavanna would regularly go to Middle-earth and “heal the hurts of Melkor; and returning she would ever urge the Valar to that war with his evil dominion that they must surely wage ere the coming of the Firstborn.” But at this point these lands appear quite hopeless and unpromising: “even as Oromë passed the servants of Melkor would gather again; and the lands were filled with shadows and deceit.”

[meadowlarkx]

End of Year Fic Recs! 🔮

Tagged by @swanmaids! I like this format a lot, thank you 💕 There were so many amazing Silm fics this year that it's nearly impossible to pick out just a few, but I did my best.

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Multi-chapter fics

Strange Currencies by @jouissants (in-progress, Maedhros/Maglor accidental LaCE marriage, M) - this fic is one of my absolute favorite things to come out of 2023, lavishly and heartbreakingly imagined post-canon reembodied/returned Exiles and brilliant maemags falling together in late Beleriand. invest now!!!

here we go again by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor (completed, Orodreth/Celebrimbor & Gil-galad Mamma Mia AU, T) - the most summer fun ever with one of my favorite Celebrimbors, delights me to think about and I think about it often!!

Such a Marriage by DifferentSong (in-progress, fem!Maedhros/Maglor set between Doriath and Sirion, M) - I feel personally blessed by the ability to list multiple maemags longfics on this list. This one is so tender, with incredible characterization for both these two and Tolkien Elves (old & young, sad & gay) in general; leader fem!Maedhros owns my heart.

What the Water Gave Me by @imakemywings (completed, Finduilas/Nienor canon divergence AU, M) - beautifully described and cozily, realistically lived-in development of a relationship between these two in a universe where Nienor survives her suicidal leap; this bandaged the wounds left by CoH for me!

In Twain by @jouissants (completed, gothic and gendery Maedhros/Elrond and Maedhros/Maglor, E) - cinematic reading experience and deliciously winding tale of Elrond's coming to better know Maedhros, Maglor, and himself; so many lines from this--and the ending--just grip me and won't let me go.

Single-chapter fics

Wondrously Wrought by @searchingforserendipity25 (Maedhros & Maglor in a universe where Noldor craft their children's personalities, G) - this beautifully written fic has me in a chokehold months & months later, I simply love it so much--the Fate of it all and the dynamic between them, and how thick the tension and emotion hangs even in these few moments.

and some of us returned by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor (Maedhros/Maglor, past Maglor/Glaurung assault at the fall of Maglor's Gap, M) - fulfilled my wildest dreams of Glaurung angst played straight, eerie and gorgeously written psychological horror told through Maedhros' eyes and his own possessive love for Maglor.

As You Wish by @imakemywings (Maglor/Thranduil battle couple devotion and hurt/comfort, T) - so many great single-chapters this year but this one is SO dear to me; I love eerie attack dog Maglor who simultaneously cares overmuch and I think this ship is so thematically chef's kiss as an alternate ending for him; wry Thranduil is fantastic here too.

one of your girls by @swanmaids (Celegorm/Oromë, Celegorm & Maglor; femininity and internalized homophobia in Valinor, E) - masterful weird mythical Ainur devotional customs surrounding Oromë and his hunt, and a really touching exploration of Celegorm's character in a time when he still has yet to choose his fate. Celegorm's tension with Maglor is great here too.

Played by @disastrousexpense (Maedhros/Maglor, Maedhros/Fingon where Maglor seduces Maedhros through the guise of "teaching" him for Fingon's benefit, E) - one of my favorite Maglors this year, so theatrical and affected and alluring and (in this Valinor period) quite selfish, yet expressive and deeply, deeply feeling. a rollicking story that made me laugh and then made me cry!

Oldies but goodies

Elvish Letters by @ladygavroche (Caranthir & Finrod, Celebrimbor & Fëanor, Maedhros & brothers, epistolary humor, in progress, G) - this is a favorite of mine, along with the Caranthir fic earlier in the same series. Incredible and hilarious epistolary that just sings!!

The Silver Queen by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor (AU where Gil-Galad is Celebrían, trans!Celebrían/Elrond, completed, M) - such a lovingly written fic for a brilliant concept. Multiple scenes of Celebrían's arc in this had me weeping earlier this year.

The High King of the Noldor and His Faithful Hound by shatteredGlasses (Hrunting_License) (Celegorm/Maglor, assault and tensions during Maglor's kingship, completed, E) - During Maedhros' captivity, Celegorm thinks the worst of Maglor, and Maglor uses Celegorm for self-harm. Genuinely disturbing, excellent angst, and very formative for me!

Through the Smoke I See You by Dragonstorm (Maedhros & Maglor, Maglor's Gap and Dagor Bragollach, single-chapter, T) - one of my favorite explorations of Maglor's devotion and guilt towards Maedhros, and the immense risk of trying to hold the Gap! I love it so.

Thistle Whistling on the Wind-Blown Field by happythoughhuman, Torpi (Finrod & Edrahil, Finrod & Avari, culture, environment, storytelling, completed, M) - I've been meaning to revisit this strange gem of a TRSB fic for a while. One of the most vivid explorations of Melkor's impact on the environment in Middle-earth, of serious Elven cultural differences and the notion of Finrod as a kinslayer (while a very Finrod-loving story; he shines in this, making connections as is his wont). Also, won my heart for putting mangroves in Valinor.

My own fics

bite thy wings and let thee crawl (Melkor/Maglor, noncon macro/micro horror porn inspired by this art by @aquaregiaart and Lay of Leithian, E) - the Big Melkor fic, set during Maedhros' captivity. In my head this is my best work of 2023 and probably ever. Come closer... give him a click.... he can't hurt you....

Less Wise (sapphic Maglor/Thranduil, canon divergence, E) - pining with a happy ending in an AU where kinslayer fem!Maglor has come to serve Mirkwood's king fem!Thranduil. This was my attempt to write the sort of comforting and cathartic fic I so enjoy reading.

elvenkings (here on tumblr as well) (moments ft. Orodreth, Thranduil, Elwing, Elrond, G) - my drabbles fic for Sindar Week 2023 about the long-lasting echoes of Menegroth and Iathrim heritage. I'm really happy this brief story resonated!

pursuit (Tulkas/Nessa and Oromë/Nessa, genderfluid Nessa, M) - Nessa and Tulkas wed. Smut and mythical vibes ft. confident and changing Nessa, the dancer and the god of prey. I love that weird Ainur shit.

yes many and beautiful things (Maedhros/Maglor during the War of Wrath, M, now with art by @aquaregiaart!) - After their final argument about stealing the Silmarils, Maedhros and Maglor share themselves with each other wholeheartedly one last time before the end; sort of a "what if they loved each other and that was worse."

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Revelations and remembrance

Day 7 prompts: Remembrance | New beginnings

For: @silmarillionepistolary

Rating: E

Characters: Gothmog (Calinár prior to him swearing loyalty to Melkor), Indilien (OC)

Themes: Dead dove | Dark | Care/Comfort | Valinor Falls AU |

Warnings: Mentions of prior captivity | Mentions of violence and torture that took place prior to the beginning of the story | Injuries/Scarring | Trauma | Nightmares | Mentions of blood/Mild Gore

Wordcount: 2.7k words

Summary: Gothmog finally gets a chance to prove his innocence to Eönwë. Indilien writes of him growing closer to Gothmog, and her strained relationship with Maglor. Gothmog agrees to help Eönwë remember the others.  

A/n 1: AW – After the wars

A/n 2: OC name meaning

Indilien, wife of Maglor - Indil (Lily) | ien (suf. feminine ending; feminine patronymic).

Anlaurë, son of Maglor – An (intensive or superlative pref. very, most) | Laurë (gold, but of golden light and colour, not of the metal)

Minors DNI | 18+

This is also available on AO3

Gothmog’s journal

12th day of Winter, 2nd year AW.— Eönwë spoke to me freely this morn, and without forcing himself to. It was the first time he had done so since he opened his eyes and found himself in Oromë’s halls.

“Why are you here, tending to me?” He asked me when I came to take him to the bath-chamber. “Why do you always come to me in that form? The others refuse to garb themselves in anything other than the form of a Balrog, except for you. Why is that?”

The questions were the same as before. I answered the same way I always did. 

“I tend to you because I want to,” I answered, and I draped his arm over my shoulders. Eönwë still had trouble walking; the limp in his left leg lingers. I tried not to think about the cause of it or the cause of the scarring that marred his physical form. "I come to you in my fairer form because I want you to feel safe with me," I added, and then I said, “I do these things because I love you, though I know you refuse to believe it.”

He neither scoffed nor replied with an insult that would cut me to the bone. He held his tongue while we walked the short distance to the bath-chamber, and he allowed me to lower him into a stone tub filled with warm water. I joined him, making myself comfortable on a step higher than his own before I reached for a bowl to wash what remained of his hair. Then, my eyes found the scars gracing the very places his wings sprang from. They were now a dark umber, half as long as my arm and thick as old leather. It was the poison that did it—the poison that was devised from the venom given to my master’s most trusted advisor as a gift. They still caused him great pain if he moved too quickly. Warmth could ease that pain, and warmth was something I could readily provide, but Eönwë refused to hear of it. He believed my efforts to aid him were all part of some new form of torment my master had devised to hurt him. As much as it wounds me, I cannot condemn him for thinking so. What faith he had in me died the day he fell into the master’s clutches, and he was told that all that was being done to him had my blessing.

“Enter,” I said, when someone knocked on the door, seeking entrance.

“Good morrow, my lord.” Indilien opened the door and walked in with a basket full of freshly split firewood. She curtsied before going about her task. “My son is without,” she continued while she knelt before a brazier and added wood from the basket. The chamber became warmer. “He wishes to know if Lord Eönwë desires to hear some music.”

“Not today,” Eönwë replied before I could. He shivered. “Please, my lady. Not today.”

“Perhaps Anlaurë could sing for us some other time,” I said. Indilien rose and nodded, her eyes full of pity. She curtsied again before taking her leave of us and closing the door behind her.

“I pray Lord Anlaurë is not wounded by my refusing to hear him sing yet again,” Eönwë began softly. “His voice is as sweet as a nightingale’s, but to hear him sing of happier times, to be reminded of a life when all was well and I was whole, is more than I can bear.”

“He holds you no ill-will; I am certain of it.” I began to wash his hair. Even now, it was soft to the touch, despite the streaks of bone-white tarnishing the gleaming onyx.

“Perhaps,” he said. “But I think I should explain to him all the same.”

“I will ask him to speak with you after you have rested.”

He lapsed into silence, and I continued with my task. The water in the tub slowly grew cold, but he allowed me to continue bathing him. He did not attempt to pull away from me. He made no complaint about the water, or the roughness of my touch. I ran my hand through thick, wet locks and nearly gave into the distress that clenched my heart. Eönwë’s hair was once so long that it brushed against the backs of his thighs when worn loose. Elaborate braids and coils and pins were needed to keep it out of his way. Now, his hair barely brushed the tips of his ears and the nape of his neck.

“I remember how you used to lose all sense of time while amusing yourself with my hair.” Eönwë took a shuddering breath and leaned into me, his arms moving to rest over my thighs. It was the first time he did so since I brought him to this place, and he opened his eyes. I dared not ask what brought this change about. I did not want him to pull away. “I can also remember how you would ask me to let you braid it for feasts.”

I thought it best to remain silent. I thought it might encourage Eönwë to say more, and I proved myself correct on that score.

“Ilmarë thought I indulged you too much,” he sighed. I put the bowl away and rested my hands against the edge of the step. Eönwë only let me bathe him; he said nothing about me touching him more than what he allowed. “She thought that as the Elder King’s Herald, I should have acted with a greater sense of decorum and that I should have given greater importance to my duties instead of devoting my energy to you. She also did not trust you. She warned me to keep away from you. She thought you would betray me, and cause me great harm.”

“And do you think I proved her correct in her assumptions of me?” I asked, unable to keep my curiosity at bay. Queen Varda’s handmaiden never cared for my calling on Eönwë whenever duty kept him within the marbled walls of Ilmarin, always chilling me with her icy looks whenever I walked past her. Did she suspect even then that my loyalty might someday shift and I would join the ranks of her people’s foes?

“In some ways, yes. You swore yourself to the one who usurped the rightful king and who now calls himself the true ruler of Arda.” It was not an insult; Eönwë merely stated the truth, for Melkor was now master of all that he surveyed. “In other ways, I do not know. You did not cause me harm, not even when we razed Utumno to the ground, not even during the darkest days of the wars that came after your master’s release. But what came after my king fell—what your master did to me…”

“If only you would allow me to show you,” I said, despairing that he still did not believe me. “If only you would open your mind to me, you would see that I knew nothing of what was going to happen to you.”

“You keep insisting you are innocent and you knew nothing of your master’s plans for me.” He made no effort to rebuke me and shut me out like he used to whenever I tried to plead my case. I considered it to be a good sign. “Very well, then. Show me.”

I seized the opportunity to explain myself with eager hands. I willed my mind to open and showed him everything, including the memories I wished I could forget. Eönwë saw it all, from the moment I walked into the new dungeons to when he was thrown at my feet, bruised and bloodied beyond recognition. He saw the fierce row that nearly ended in the clashing of whips and swords, and he saw the pronouncement of my banishment.

“Exiled to the Forests of Oromë,” he observed, “and no longer having a master to serve, all for the sake of me. Do you consider such a sacrifice to be worth it in the end?”

I did not hesitate. “I consider the sacrifice to be well worth it.”

Eönwë grew weary. He asked to be taken back to his bedchamber. Once I was satisfied that he was resting peacefully, I left to speak with the others. They have not been idle since the day we arrived, and I am pleased with what they have done so far. Walls and roofs have been strengthened, blades and arrowheads have been sharpened, and the stones covering the floor of the little hall were removed to expose the rich forest soil beneath it. With many fields and orchards burned and salted, we have little choice but to grow more food with the seeds we found hidden in one of the cellars. The elves who now serve me are confident we can begin planting soon. 

Morilindë Indilien’s journal

18th day of Winter, 02nd year AW.— We were beginning to witness a warming of Lord Eönwë’s exchanges with Lord Gothmog. He no longer shies away from him, and he goes to the Lord Commander of the Balrogs more willingly, even speaking to him without forcing himself to do so. My son thinks something changed that day in the bath chamber. Perhaps Lord Eönwë finally consented to witness what Lord Gothmog did that accursed day in Ilmarin when he was given Lord Manwë’s herald as his reward. None of us knew what happened before that. We could not go near the dungeons. The orcs who did so refused to answer anyone who dared to ask. We only know that a fierce quarrel erupted between the one who calls himself our new king and his servant the day he returned after having led the others in slaying Ungoliant. After it was over, Lord Mairon declared that Lord Gothmog would be exiled, and any elf who wished to follow him was free to do so. My son and I followed, as did a few others. My husband refused to join us. He and his brothers refused to leave their father’s side, and their father would never leave Ilmarin so long as he remained enthralled by Melkor’s lies. As much as it grieved us to know of my husband’s decision to place duty toward his father over duty toward his wife and child, we could not stay. We had to leave, and we had to do so quickly. Ilmarin was no longer the glittering palace it used to be, and we feared that if we lingered, we too would be tainted by the same darkness that had corrupted so many of the others. I pray every day and every night, hoping against all hope that the scales will fall from Makalaurë’s eyes and that he will come to us so that we can be a family again.

Later.— Lord Eönwë agreed to join us for supper, instead of eating alone in his chamber. Our meal was a simple affair, and it was vastly different from the grand feasts and riotous celebrations that were held frequently within these halls. Roasted grouse and stew was what we had, along with wild berries and honey. We ate and drank our fill, though few talked. There was little to give us much cheer, even though our meal was still quite good. So many gave themselves over to the lies and fine promises made by the new Elder King. Others perished during the wars that erupted after Melkor convinced elves and other Ainur to rise against the Aratar. Many an elleth was now a widow, and more than one elfling was now an orphan.

“Dark vapors have risen around Ilmarin,” a huntress said while we ate. Once, she served the Huntsman of the Valar, and he taught her the speech of birds and beasts. “The birds are fleeing the mountain; they say these dark clouds are unnatural and reek of soot and iron and far worse things.”

“Then the king has turned Ilmarin into his new Utumno,” Lord Gothmog remarked, sighing. “You will not go there if you know what is best for you. And keep close to these forests. Those vapors are just the beginning; mark my words on it.”

A Balrog's warning was a warning that had to be heeded. Lord Gothmog brooded in silence while the rest of us continued with our meal. He only took his leave of us when Lord Eönwë said that he wished to retire for the night.

Gothmog’s journal

19th day of Winter, 2nd year AW.— Last night, Eönwë asked me to aid him in something.

“I would like to do something to remember the others,” he said, while I helped him undress for bed. His robe I removed first, then his slippers, and finally the signet ring that had served as an adornment. I recognized the jewel in the center; it was a gift from Manwë and it was part of a handful of treasures Lady Indilien was allowed to take from his chambers in Ilmarin. “I wish to remember those who perished, and those who still languish in your master’s dungeons. Will you help me?”

I would have agreed to anything if it meant earning his trust.

“Of course.” I drew back the pelts and stood to the side while he climbed onto the featherbed. Eönwë refuses all help getting in and out of bed. It was humiliating for him to need another’s aid for such a simple act. “I will help you. There are flowers growing all around these halls. We could set them to float in that lake nearby. For now, rest. I will be in the chamber beyond this one if you need me for anything.”

He grabbed my arm by the wrist when I turned to leave. “Will you stay? I am plagued by terrible dreams, and... and I do not wish to be alone.”

It was the first time he asked me to share his bed, even for a little while. It was also the first time he spoke of the visions that came to him whenever he closed his eyes. They were not a common occurrence, but sometimes I would rush into his chamber and find him in the grip of some dreadful nightmare—thrashing and screaming, while his mind was filled with terrible images. When he opened his eyes, he would weep. 

“Would you consider telling me what these terrible dreams are?” I asked after a moment.

He grew pale but nodded after I sat by his side. “It is always the same. I find myself in a dark chamber with dark walls and dark ceilings and no windows as far as I can see. I try to walk, but I cannot. I try to move my arms, but I cannot. Steel bites into my flesh whenever I do. I am frightened. Cold. A mist pours in, thick and foul, and almost as dark as the chamber I am in. It comes for me, reaching for me with its icy fingers. I call, and I call, and no one answers. That mist keeps pulling at me, searching for weaknesses, searching for a way in. There is pain—the sound of tearing, of blades slicing through flesh. And then there is blood. Blood in my mouth, blood coursing down my body and my arms and my thighs, blood running down my back. The pain keeps growing and growing, and then—”

“You do not have to tell me anymore, little bird. I understand.” I had another question, one that I had not even thought of until now. “Tell me. These dreams… These dark visions... does my master appear in them at any time?”

Eönwë thought for a while and then said, “No. If he is there, he does not make his presence known to me. Why?”

“A suspicion, that is all,” I said. “But you will tell me if he does, yes?”

“Yes.” He made room for me, and I joined him. He nestled his head in the crook of my arm and rested his arm across my belly. I took his hand into mine and laced my fingers around his like we used to do many an age ago.  

"Now rest," I insisted. "I will be here when you open your eyes again." 

tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese

[thelordofgifs]

Congrats on 300 followers! 🎉

For the foc prompt, if you have the time and leisure for it: Anything with Turgon? (I know I'm being super predictable here but I love him so much) Maybe a snippet of how you see his and Idril's relationship, if you're up to it, or anything like that!

- finnritter

@finnritter thank you and of course!

Finrod was singing again. Turgon did not know where he found the strength, with the bitter wind stealing his breath and the icicles forming on his lashes. But he should not begrudge it; not when others lifted up their voices to join him, and the Ice rang for a few moments with the clear silver beauty of elvensong.

"My turn," he said quietly to Elenwë, under cover of the music, and wordlessly she passed him their daughter.

Idril had been sleeping, but she stirred and yawned as Turgon settled her on his shoulders. "Hello, Atya," she said drowsily.

"Hello, Itaril," Turgon said. "You can go back to sleep, if you like. It will be a while before the next rest."

"I am not sleepy," said Idril; he could feel her shifting in her perch, tugging slightly at his hair as she sat up straight to look around her. Although there were none in the host who would ever object to carrying its littlest member, Idril tended to favour her father's shoulders; from his great height she could see much further than from anyone else's.

"Do you know this song?" Turgon asked her, once the music had reached its swelling peak. "Perhaps you can ask your uncle Ingoldo to teach it to you, if not."

"That would be nice," said Idril, "but the next time we stop for a rest, aunt Írissë is going to show me how to gut a seal. So it will have to be after."

Turgon glanced to his side, but Elenwë, relieved of Idril's weight, had dropped back to cajole along the stragglers. A thankless task – there were none who had lost their zeal for the march who had not eventually sat down to die in the cold – but nonetheless a necessary one, if they were to remember yet that they were civilised.

Speaking of which—

"That sounds unpleasant," he said. "Are you sure you would not rather learn some music?"

"Hmm," said Idril, thinking. "No."

"Or," said Turgon, unwilling to argue but also not ready to give up the point entirely, "your Haru might like to tell you some stories—"

"Haru's stories aren't that good," Idril said, with childlike bluntness. "He's sad all the time. And they're always about the Great Journey." This last was said with an unmistakeable note of derision.

As a child Turgon had loved his father's stories, had sat for hours at his feet as he had woven tales of lovers parted forever in the woods of Middle-earth and children who met strange fae spirits in the train of Oromë under the starlight. He supposed the rather tame perils of those stories would not prove very diverting to a child of the Helcaraxë.

"All right," he said. "Now, it will still be a while before we can meet up with aunt Írissë again." Aredhel and Fingon both preferred to take out hunting-parties ahead of the march of the main host; Turgon had not seen them since the last scheduled rest, some two days ago. He had no proof that they were still alive, but there was no use sharing that fear with Idril. So far, they had always come back. "Shall we play a walking-game until then?"

"Yes!" said Idril; but before Turgon could suggest that they try to identify the constellations, or see who could count backwards from five hundred the fastest, she added, "Let's name all the Disappeared. Uncle Finno says there are more than a thousand now."

If he had eaten in the past day, Turgon's stomach would have lurched. Instead, after a moment, he acquiesced. What was one more small defeat?

[unendingwanderlust]

Hey, party people! It's that time of the year again! Links will be added as each story is uploaded to AO3. Happy reading!

2023 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

DAY 0: TENTACLES  | Eldritch!Maglor/OFC (Eärmírië) Maglor after the First Age, Loss of Virginity, Fluff and Smut

Turns out, there’s more to the terrifying tentacle monster that haunts the caves near Mithlond than meets the eye…

DAY 1: SEDUCTION | Celegorm/Oromë Years of the Trees, Valinor, Forest Sex, Anonymous Sex (or is it?)

The annual hunt is Celegorm’s favorite time of the year: a thrilling chance to prove himself. Not only to compete with his dear cousin Aredhel, but also an opportunity to prove his worth to the one he reveres above all...

DAY 2: INFIDELITY | Míriel/Indis/Finwë Established Relationship, F/F/M Threesome, Femdom (Domme!Míriel), Humiliation, Cuckolding

“I suppose I understand why you asked the Valar for a second wife,” Míriel says. “So that you could disappoint both of us with how atrocious a lover you are…”

DAY 3: GENDERPLAY  | Elrond/GNC!Celebrían Established Relationship, Gentle sex, Romance, Sex in a tent

In Valinor, Celebrían returns to life in a male body. Elrond is more than happy to help her navigate this change and discover what it means for their marriage…

DAY 4: NON-PENETRATIVE SEX | Maedhros/Fingon Exes to Lovers, After Thangorodrim, Laws and Customs Among the Eldar (and all their loopholes), Angst, Part of the A World Of Our Own series

“Is there another in your life?” Maedhros asked.

Fingon’s fingers paused where they had been rubbing back and forth across Maedhros’s scarred back, comforting.

They had separated for such a long time; a wound that Maedhros had carried all the way across the Sea, never to heal. Surely someone would have caught Fingon’s eye in the meantime, and Maedhros needed to know. He had already suffered unspeakable humiliation and pain; what was another stab through his heart?

So, Maedhros looked deep into his cousin’s eyes, daring Fingon to be the one to finally break him...

DAY 5: PIERCINGS  | Thranduil/Maglor Modern Middle-earth, Complicated Relationships (now that's an understatement), Denial of Feelings, Angst, Sequel to Glory Days, Long Passed

One day, Thranduil will tell Maglor to lay off the sweet talk because he clearly doesn't mean it… and it even sounds romantic sometimes.

Not today. Thranduil can pretend it’s genuine for a little longer...

DAY 6: DUBCON | Werewolf!Maedhros/Fingon After Thangorodrim, Established Relationship, Forest Sex, Multiple Orgasms

“It is going to happen tonight,” Maedhros says.

That grabs Fingon’s complete and undivided attention...

DAY 7: SIZE DIFFERENCE | Buffy/Dragon!Giles Established Relationship, Romance, Smut and Fluff

Giles could rip her to ribbons if he wanted to; the Watchers’ Council wants her to believe that he is going to despite his charming veneer.

Buffy knows better…

DAY 9: QUIET SEX | Buffy/Giles Established Relationship, Library Sex

Buffy was supposed to help Giles sort his tomes. Somewhere along the way, she gets distracted…

DAY 11: SEX TOYS | Sigrid/Tauriel Modern Middle-earth, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, Older woman/younger woman, Part of the There Goes The Neighborhood Series

It's a lazy Sunday morning in Minas Tirith. Golden sunlight filters through the curtains, gleaming in Sigrid's hair, making her skin glow.

And Tauriel has it bad for her...

DAY 13: SEX POLLEN | Buffy/Giles Magic Made Them Do It, Dubcon, Forest Sex

As if being teleported to an ancient forest wasn't scary enough, that strange striped flower has to explode in their faces!

DAY 15: PEGGING | Buffybot/Gilesbot Established Relationship, Roleplay (it's really corny), Humor, Part of the Do Androids Dream Of Elecric Hearts? Series

In which Gilesbot updates his own software with a great new feature, and Buffybot helps to test it…

DAY 16: MASTURBATION | Aredhel/Nerdanel Voyeurism, Fantasies

Frankly, Aredhel understands her uncle. If she had a wife like Nerdanel, she would constantly get her with child too...

DAY 17: EDGEPLAY | Vampire!Gimli/Legolas AU - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fusion, Secret Relationship, Part of the Slayers and Watchers of Arda series

The last person Gimli should be fucking is the Slayer's only son. And yet, neither he nor Legolas can stay away from each other...

DAY 22: RITUAL SEX  | Buffy/Giles Succubus Curse, Sex Magic

With their eyes fixed to the floor, they take off their clothes in awkward silence. The reason why they're even here and why they need to perform this ritual hangs from between Buffy's legs: large, hardening, and impossible to ignore…

DAY 25: WET DREAMS  | Thranduil/Thranduil’s Wife Pre-Relationship, Second Age, Part of the A World Of Our Own series

If stupid Mordor and the war did not plunge Laergliriel into insanity, then overhearing Thranduil's late-night, private activities would...

DAY 28: DADDY KINK  | Buffy/Giles Established Relationship, Humor, Fluff and Smut

A new experiment in the bedroom gone wrong... or wonderfully right!

DAY 31: LINGERIE  | Thranduil/Thranduil’s Wife Horror, Frankenstein AU, Folklore, Magic, Unexpectedly wholesome given the premise

A lonely ancient widow sets out to create a perfect companion, but she ends up reanimating an equally lonely prince instead. What could possibly go wrong?

[swanmaids]

celegorm and orome 7!

7. to shut them up

this got away from me a little :') warning for some tame implied sex

~

Tyelkormo stretched out against the base of the tree, shucked his boots off and dug his toes in the loamy soil. He took a deep, deliberate breath of green forest air, let it fill up his lungs, and smiled. By his side, his mare snuffled at the ground. Ah, yes - it had been several days of hard riding to make it here, and she probably deserved a reward. He held out a hand to the air, and a perfectly round, red apple dropped into his palm. Tyelkormo said a silent thanks to Vána and offered the treat to his horse, her hot tongue licking over his hand as she gratefully accepted, before wandering off to graze elsewhere.

After such a short time back in the Woods of Oromë, Tyelkormo was already feeling more like himself than he ever did at Formenos. Yes - he was pleased with himself. This little excursion had been an excellent idea.

Well, perhaps excursion was putting it a bit delicately. But he'd been climbing the walls cooped up in Formenos. Tyelkormo was not meant to be caged - he needed the Woods. He needed him. So he'd taken matters into his own hands.

Tyelkormo could imagine his father's reaction when he'd inevitably discovered that the elf-shaped pile of pillows underneath Tyelkormo’s blankets was not, in fact, his third son, but right now that wasn't his problem. It had been an easy enough task to bribe Curufinwë to tell father that he'd snuck out to visit Angaráto and his family for the week - father was not going to be pleased to hear it, but it was far and away a better story for him to believe than the reality, and besides, he wasn't the one banned from Tirion. Then he'd waited until the keep was asleep, before swinging himself out of his bedroom window with the aid of a few tied-together spare bedsheets like a maiden in a romance novel and jumping the last metre or so to reach the ground. A short jog under darkness to the stables was the final step, and then it was goodbye, Formenos.

For now, anyway. He'd followed his father into exile in the first place for a reason, after all. But in this moment, he had no reason to dwell on the future, because he was finally here.

Oromë stood before him in the little clearing as though he'd always been there. The form he wore was a little different to those which Tyelkormo had seen before - his hair long and in beaded locs, his horns an unfamiliar shape - but the Power that Oromë carried was unmistakable, as was the little flip that Tyelkormo's stomach did at the sight of him. The trees almost seemed to bend in reverance to their lord, and the air itself was still.

"My hasty one," the great Hunter said, "how did you come to be here?"

Tyelkormo simply grinned up at him in response - Oromë's voice said that he knew exactly how, and approved.

They embraced deliberately, coming together in the way of those who have endured a long seperation and are soon to be parted once more. Some of Tyelkormo's brothers talked of the Valar as wispy, insubstantial creatures, but little did they know of Oromë. Entwined with Tyelkormo in the Woods, he was all strength and flesh and muscle. He was the scent of sweat and leather in Tyelkormo's nose and the taste of salt on his tongue, the rub of the earth against his back and the pleasant soreness throughout his body. He was inside him, underneath him, and all around him.

Afterwards, Oromë was uncharacteristically pensive.

"Will you be leaving again?"

"Soon, I suppose. My father needs us all close - these times are uncertain."

"That they are." Oromë's face was grave. "My youngest brother seeks Melkor throughout the valleys and trees of this land, but he has found no trace. And it may well be too late - the discord that he sought to sow has already taken root. Does the light of the Trees not seem dimmer to you, too?"

An icy trickle ran down Tyelkormo's spine - he could hardly deny that he had thought the same. It was not something that he wished to dwell on.

"I did not come to you for talk of doom and portents," he said, putting a little smile into his voice. "I can get plenty of that at home with my father. Surely there is something else we could be doing instead?"

Oromë clearly saw the clumsy avoidance of the subject for what it was, but allowed it; and allowed Tyelkormo to press their mouths together for another kiss, and another, and another after that. Tyelkormo closed his eyes, melted into it, and did not think about the future.

[dalliansss]

cuiviénen ot3 hcs

For @skaelds primarily (add ur own!) with special mention for @elentarial

Main what ifs: Fëanor had two dads; or, Elwë escapes Nan Elmoth and reaches Valinor again.

Before Oromë found the Eldar, the elves already had quite the society and culture by Cuiviénen. They grouped themselves according to their 'tribe' or kindred, and headed by the very first of the Unbegotten. Their central government was a council consisting of the Unbegotten, which decided things on a majority vote.

Imin liked to think himself the leader of everybody else, but then he got lost in the dark when he went foraging for some mushrooms and was replaced in the council with his son and daughter-in-law. (There were some stories that said Imin's companions specifically left him to be taken; he had become such an unpopular leader at some point in time).

Elves could take a maximum of two spouses during their very early days; they mated early and begot as many children as they could, to stabilize their numbers against the disappearances and fell creatures that hunted them outside of their settlements.

Many elves though, still chose to have one spouse only, and had as many children as they could from said spouse.

No elf forced themselves on another elf who was already wed.

The courtship was primitive; en elf brought gifts of use to his/her intended spouse (food or hunting implements, cloth for clothing, implements for building homes), and if the intended partner was interested enough, then they sought out a private place and moment and laid together. If the Bond held, then they were wed; if not, they were not meant to be together.

Children was the primary objective of wedding others.

An elven couple could have up to six children per pair; a full family with two spouses could have a maximum of twelve children.

Finwë was the third child of his parents. He had two other older siblings who got lost in the dark.

Elwë was the eldest of his three siblings. He was from the second spouse of his mother. All the children of his mother's first spouse (and the first spouse) stayed in Cuiviénen and became Avari.

Miriel was the fourth daughter in a brood of six, born with a frail hröa, but with great talent in the making of fine things, be they delicate, primitive jewelry or embroidering cloths.

Finwë was a very popular elf and had droves of suitors. One of the strongest candidates for his coveted choice (being a direct descendant of the Noldor's ancestors, Tatä and Tatië) was an elleth who gave him a year's worth of harvest (with honeycombs) and an ellon who gave him two goats.

However Finwë chose to pursue Elwë instead. Elwë rejected him at first (since reproduction was the primary aim of the elves at that time).

Finwë, who had also been eyeing Miriel for some time (she was his childhood friend alongside Elwe and the three of them grew up together), weds her first.

It is Miriel who convinced Elwe to accept Finwe and her suit for his hand.

Their homestead was Elwe's place by the lakeside. He provided for them through fishing and hunting, while Finwe provided by raising crops, foraging and hunting. Miriel tended the homestead and wove cloths and offered her delicate handiwork to repair things.

Because of Miriel's unusually frail hröa, the three of them refrained from begetting children at that time.

Oromë finds the Eldar.

Unsure what to do with their 'strange' society in addition to legitimate concerns about the elves, Oromë consults the Valar sitting at Mahanaxar, and it is decided to bring them into Aman.

Ingwe, Finwe and Elwe were chosen as ambassadors. Miriel was entrusted to Elwe's brothers Olwe and Elmo to be watched over by them while they were away.

Finwe wanted the promise of Valinor not so much for himself and Elwe, but for Miriel. Both had hoped that in the Undying Lands, Miriel could find renewed strength and purpose.

The Great Journey begins.

Many elves, especially the First Ones, refuse the summons, instead choosing the dangerous way of life in the Hither Lands than the too-good-to-be-true promise of Valinor.

Elwe is a very vocal leader against Orome's frequent departures, and insisted the Vala leave behind some measure of security for the Eldar. This is why the five Maiar guardians (including Melian, Olorin and Curumo) are sent to accompany the Eldar during the great journey.

Manwe was greatly disturbed by what Orome told him about the primitive Eldarin culture. It was determined by the Valar to formulate certain societal rules in order to pre-empt potential chaos in Valinor with regard to some of the elves' way of life.

Because the Teleri were the greater number of people and prone to distraction and dawdling, Finwe, Elwe and Miriel had to decide to split up. The Noldor and Vanyar go ahead first while Elwe and his brothers wrangle their people.

Melian attempts to enchant Elwe in Nan Elmoth. Elwe, already having doubts because of Orome's frequent departures, manages to evade her sorcery and escapes the forest. He is still delayed by a hundred years, however.

The Teleri finally cross the Great Sea. This time, Osse attempts to delay Elwe. Elwe is more insistent about his refusal and wants nothing else but to rejoin Finwe and Miriel.

Osse, wrathful at being rejected, sinks Elwe's boat.

Elwe is the only elf to have swam all the way across the Great Sea and reached Tol Eressea as a half-elf, half-kelp creature.

The Teleri stay mainly at Eressea, with Avallone as their capital. Alqualonde is nothing more than an important port town to trade with the Noldor and Vanyar.

Elwe abdicates to Olwe and Olwe becomes the sole ruler of the Teleri.

Elwe rejoins Finwe and Miriel in Tirion.

Feanor is born, but Miriel still gets tired of living.

Friction between Elwe and Finwe, because Finwe desires greatly to remarry for more children. Elwe tries his hardest to support along Feanor and Finwe both.

Finwe eventually remarries to Indis, but with Elwe's caveat that she take their unusual family as they are found.

[cilil]

❀˖° drabbles & shorts masterlist 𖡼࿐

various characters / sfw & nsfw / heed tags

❀˖° challenges & events .*

.❀ april alphabet challenge

.❀ athelas 20 day drabble challenge

.❀ silvergifting week

.❀ ainur week

.❀ summer stories

.❀ fotfictember

.❀ scribbles & drabbles reveals (overview here)

.❀ lotr week

.❀ november prompts

.❀ silmarillion gift giving

.❀ winter drabbles

.❀ femslash february

❀˖° kissing prompts [requests] .*

.❀ 16 ~ "we'll meet again" kisses (Manwë x Námo | Calamórë)

.❀ 17 ~ "I missed you" kisses (Melkor x Mairon | Angbang)

.❀ 19 ~ caressing inner thigh, then trailing kisses (Melkor x Mairon | Angbang)

.❀ 23 ~ breathless kisses (Amaurë x Eönw��)

.❀ 36 ~ kisses when they wake up (Melkor x Mairon | Angbang)

.❀ 41 ~ kissing to make it bearable (Melkor x Mairon | Angbang)

.❀ 43 ~ "we'll face it together" kisses (Melkor x Mairon | Angbang)

➻ based on this post

.❀ 06 ~ kiss on a falling tear (Gothmog x Eönwë)

.❀ 13 ~ kissing discreetly (Elrond x Celebrían)

.❀ 18 ~ kiss as encouragement (Manwë x Varda)

.❀ 21 ~ kiss on a place of insecurity (Manwë x Varda)

.❀ 39 ~ kiss because time's run out (Ulmo x Manwë)

.❀ 49 ~ kiss out of necessity (Mairon x Ar-Pharazôn)

➻ based on this post

❀˖° random inspiration .*

.❀ "the lord of dreams and nightmares" (dark!Irmo)

.❀ "good night" (Irmo & reader)

.❀ weekend word play: say it ain't so (silvergifting)

.❀ weekend word play: no dialogue (Tilion & Oromë)

.❀ forceful kiss (Mairon x Eönwë)

.❀ the ifenkönig (poetry, Finwë x Míriel, dark!Námo)

.❀ of faith and folly (Manwë & Eru)

.❀ the elder king's new clothes (Manwë x Fëanor)

.❀ the "elder king"'s new coiffure (Melkor x Mairon)

➵ main masterlist

[ladysternchen]

headcanon explained/character study- Elu Thingol, part 3

Right, so until now this was purely headcanon, ‘canonically’ (if you accept it as canon) touched upon in HoME. Now, we enter the part of the story (I warned you that this was going to be long, didn’t I?) where we first hear of Elwë in the Silmarillion, when he, together with Finwë and Ingwë, travels to Aman as ambassador. Parting from their friends and kin at Cuiviénen would have been terrifying for all three of them (plus those they left behind), because they still came from a people for whom leaving the shores of their Awakening equalled disappearance and death. For Elwë in particular, this knowledge was horrible to have, as he knew that he left a recently orphaned child behind that regarded him as his primary caregiver. Still, despite all the worries and concerns, Elwë was deeply awed by the journey, by the vast lands of Middle-Earth, its grasslands and woods and mountain ranges, and above all by the sea when finally they reached it. It called to him more than it did to his friends, and woodland-king though he became in later life, a part of his heart still remained enthralled by the sound of the rushing waves, the horns of Salmar. They did not, however, reach Valinor by crossing the sea in a boat, but rather on Nahar’s broad back via the Helcaraxë, and the memory of that experience was enough for Elwë to decide, thousands of years later, that crossing the Grinding Ice on foot was punishment enough for everything Fingolfin and his people might have done (“With Fingolfin and his people also I will keep friendship, for they have bitterly atoned for such ill as they did.”). Had Elwë marvelled at the wonders of Middle-Earth before, it was nothing to what he felt like in Aman. The sea, the light of the trees, the grace of the Valar- all that mingled together in his mind to something that seemed like a dream, and the memory of those three years would remain a life-line for Elwë for the rest of his life (yes, I mean the rest). Unlike Ingwë and Finwë, who quickly struck up friendships with certain Valar, Elwë loved and revered them all, but in a more politely reserved way. Most of all, he worshipped Varda, and she also would take a liking to him, knowing his doom, but not speaking to anyone about it, not even her husband. At the end of their stay in Valinor, the ambassadors were given horses of their own by Oromë (Elwë would after that never again ride a horse that was not of the line of the white stallion he got then), and accompanied back home by the Vala. Elwë had to swallow down his tears the entire time, for what reason (looking back, he understood of course that it had been foresight) he did not know then. They were received by their people in wonder and joy, and many decided to follow them in the end, though none of the awoken would come. Alright, let’s pause the storytelling for a moment and actually explain my headcanon- based on what is written in NoME (I think? Or was in Morgoth’s Ring?), I really think that Elwë was not at all eager to become leader to his people, because he’s really rather a quiet person who needs time to accustom and think things through, and he’s certainly not fond of bossing people around (“I can but choose for myself, and all my people shall do likewise"). He’s perfectly fine sharing power with Olwë, as he is later perfectly fine to have Finrod establish a powerful kingdom very close to his own realm, but that’s for later. He also really needs Finwë to counter-balance him (and vice versa). Back to headcanon-story-telling. The great journey was long and hard and frustrating for both Elwë and Olwë, ever urging their hosts on, who came along rather reluctantly, and they lost many people along the way. For Elwë in particular, the first years of the journey were exhausting, as he more often than not had to carry Elmo when the child became too tired to walk on. But still, despite it being uncomfortable, he also treasured those moments, for it moved him deeply to feel his little brother falling slowly asleep on his back, his arms slung around Elwë’s neck, and his slow, deep breathing in his ear.