#tyelkormo turkafinwe

[thestaroffeanor]

Some of Oromë's hunters at night

feat. Celegorm, Huan, Aredhel and Liëanna and one deer that was not fast enough

[leucisticpuffin]

Day 3 of @feanorianweek: experimenting with strawberry-blond hair for Celegorm. I think it suits him.

(the scars look dramatic but they're actually from a regrettable incident with a weasel)

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Celegorm should not be held responsible for Lúthien’s kidnap. He was forced by Tolkien’s Catholic ideal of monogamy; Curufin was the original perpetrator and, despite lord of the rings later requiring Celebrimbor as Curufin’s son and banishing the prospect of him loving Lúthien, he remains so in spirit. #freeTyelko

[dalliansss]

He sees Turko again at a family supper by Fëanáro’s mansion some time later. Turko looked properly Noldorin for the occasion: clean and well-kept, his braids impeccably done. No stinking pelts and war paint on his person, though his sharpened nails, made to imitate talons, belied his true occupation. 

“So,” Carnistir turns to his brother as Nelyo starts serving the strawberry cheesecake he brought for dessert. “A maia of Oromë came to me a week ago with ten bags of gold, your money.”

“Yes,” Turko confirms. “I signed a letter where it says there I let them give my money to you or Curvo.”

Carnistir lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Hanno,” he begins. “But this is your money. You should manage your funds, or at least have a know-how on what you want us to do with them.”

Turko looks at him. “Do with it as you like.”

“And what if I spend it all on buying more silkworms for my farm?”

“That’s great.”

Carnistir put his right hand over his own face. “Hanno, I am not horsing around with you. What do you want me to do with your money?”

“I said, do with it as you like. I don’t care,” Turko says. He perks up when Nelyo turns to him and Carnistir, and he grabs Carnistir’s empty dessert plate and holds it up as well. Nelyo puts big slices of the cake on their plates. 

“With this attitude I can probably rob you dry,” Carnistir says, unimpressed.

“Nah,” Turko says, leaning over to kiss his ruddy cheek. “You won’t.”

[my brothers' keeper / AO3]

[ylieke]

[moredhel]

Celegorm and Curufin in Nargothrond

[drawulan]

Son of Feanaro

[thelien-art]

Day 3: Celegorm for @feanorianweek

Lust｜Chastity

Coriander Flowers: Coriander flowers symbolize lust, as the seeds were used as an aphrodisiac in ancient Greece they were found in tombs of Egyptian pharaohs as far back as 5000 BC.

I thought the white and green flowers also fitting to him as it makes him blend in more with them than Maedhros and Maglor´s flower, since he is a hunter, who learned under Orome. I also let his hair be free from the usual ponytail just this once to make the wild come across. I think he puts a lot of his self value into what he is good at, such as hunting, fighting, tracking, looking like Miriel, etc, which also makes him fall so much quicker and harder than most of his brothers, but that also means that he can relate to Curufin better in a strange way, that leads to harmful loyalty and their downfall on both sides.

Maedhros｜Maglor｜Caranthir｜Curufin｜Ambarussa

Goblin

[wisesnail]

Skills and personal style evolve - sometimes I'm still charmed by my old works, but other times I can definitely notice improvements. I actually have both reactions while watching this (terrible) video about the #Feanorions from 10 or so years ago, and the ones I painted in the past few weeks.

I don't know how to explain, but the new versions feel more... "real" to me (especially #Ambarussa , for some reason)

Anyway, this is a reminder to myself that I can get better - and I thought it would be fun to show the "before" and "now " <;

[yuviur]

A young Celegorm about to hit the bullseye 🏹

[juiceagainandagainandagain]

reposting them (but only the ones i like still) becuase i do regret deleting them in a fit of pmdd induced insanity

[feydrawings]

Happy Halloween 🎃 🦇👻!

Since the destiny of the Feanorians after their deaths is unknown (Feanor is said to be in Mandos, but such a thing is never specified for his sons) I decided to speculate a little about it. In Morgoth's Ring we are told that elves can reject Mandos call and remain in middle earth as spirits, and I wonder if such a thing didn't also happen to the Feanorians (either for their oath, like it happened to the mortal Men in the Pact of the Undead, or because they refuse to subject to the judgment of the Valar out of personal pride). Since the Wild Hunt appears to be a thing in the middle earth (Morgoth mimicking Orome in the shape of the Black Hunter, the Dead riding after Aragorn on his journey towards the Pelennor field, etc), i like to think that even after his death, Celegorm continued to keep his hunter occupation. He now stalks the night as a shadow, the sound of his phantom horn chilling the blood in the veins of everyone who's the misfortune to hear it...

(unfortunately due to the poor scanner quality, I've to cut the top of the painting. I hope to fix it in future)

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Given Celegorm x Oromë, Tyelko would’ve seen Lúthien and her maiarin blood and thought she reminds me of him.

[corsairspade]

Sitting here thinking about Celegorm being Oromë’s favourite and what the means beyond being gifted a hound by the Valar of the hunt himself.

Imagine, if you will, pre-darkening Celegorm who always wins dice games, who never draws the short straw, and when it comes to bets, always seems to come out on top— to the point where Celegorm is the person who always holds the pot when it comes to bets, because he always wins otherwise.

Imagine now, in Beleriand, this habit not changing. “Tell Tyelko I’m putting 20 on Fingon’s seneschal proposing to that girl of his in four years”, “Tell Celegorm that I despise him and never want to see him again— and also that I’m doubling down on my bet on the outcome of Caranthir meeting a Man for the first time.”

Imagine, oath ridden, downward spiralling Celegorm jokingly agreeing to roll dice to bet on something minor— guard shifts, or who has to tell Curufin that another sword has been broken—

And losing the bet. 

Celegorm who always is lucky, who always holds the pot… doesn’t know when he lost that favour. 

Imagine a Celegorm slowly losing the boons bestowed upon him by a Valar who he dedicated himself to, who taught him to speak the language of birds and beasts and gave him his craft.

Imagine a Celegorm who watches Huan leave and thinks it an inevitability, because he has been losing losing parts of himself, ever since he stepped off the shores of Valinor.

Celegorm who leaves behind a collection of bows and pelts and one hand-bound, weathered book, filled with the bets that are never going to be fulfilled.

[dalliansss]

Two days ago Caranthir found Nelyo awake and raiding the bread box in the supply tent. Celegorm had only seen Nelyo twice since his rescue, and what he had seen of what his brother had become had been enough to bring him to tears, escaping the healers’ tent, to go to the edge of the camp. There, isolated, he crouched, hugged his knees and wept like the elfling he had not been for a long while, with Huan sitting beside him and nosing his ear, trying to comfort him.

He remembers, in all pain, how Nelyo helped raise him: carrying him, shushing him, changing his clothes, feeding him. Making him his first bow and arrows, altering his clothes for him when he sprouted an inch more. Strong, beautiful and patient Nelyo, who sat him on his lap on boring afternoons and read to him to help him sleep. The images of Celegorm’s half-faded childhood gives way for the Nelyo that Fingon brought back: emaciated and scarred, red hair only halfway to his back instead of hanging to his bottom, a clear sign that his hair had been shorn short at one point in time. Jutting shoulder blades, hollowed cheeks, and that terrible, gruesome stump where his hand had been.

Celegorm bursts into a fresh flow of tears as he cubes the mutton, and he hastily has to put his knife down and pull back, to avoid ruining the meat. 

And to think that he reluctantly voted in favor of abandoning Nelyo to the unknown.

He did that.

However reluctant, but he did.

Celegorm will never forgive himself for a long time.

[a bowl of guilt / AO3]

[braxix]

Maglor: Okay, play C.

Celegorm: *Plays an F*

Maglor: That's an F. Try again.