#(the smol elfling)

[elvcnson]

Like all young elflings no doubt, Legolas was very doe eyed with the story of Glorfindel, the great balrog slayer...however it was the tale of Beleg Cuthalion, the elf of Doriath that made an impression on him in his youth. His grandfather and father both being prince’s of Doriath, the story of Beleg would have been well known to him....and the tale of the loyal elf, mistakenly slain by his human companion in a foolish blind panic after he had saved him always brought tears to that young princelings eyes

[esotheria-sims]

Speak of the smol devil! Arwan heard the commotion in the livingroom and came over to check for himself what was going on.

Tabitha squealed at the sight of the adorable elfling. She took it as a good sign that her young protégé had shown up right after she'd been officially hired - it meant they could start bonding right away!

Getting approval from the Lady of the house that it was okay to jump straight into her new role, she wasted no time in scooping Arwan up into her arms. She took him potty, fed him, gave him a bath, put him to bed and sung him lullabies until his eyelids grew too heavy to hold. To the astonishment of the entire Gladwyn clan, the usually hyperactive Arwan was sleeping like a log when they went into the nursery that evening to check on him.

 Tabitha must be some kind of fairy! 🧚🏻‍♀️

[mimimarilynart]

[modern-inheritance]

What are some headcanons/MIC Canon things about Arya as a kid?

Soooo many! Unfortunately my brain isn't cooperating now (or for the weeks since you asked this, sorry for the delay Books!!) but I've put in the ones that stick out the most. I'll definitely revisit this and add more via reblogs as time goes on!!

Young Modern Inheritance!Arya

Arya frequently climbed out of windows and into the trees instead of leaving via doors. It drove Islanzadí crazy, since if there was an argument between them and she was distracted in any way for a millisecond Arya would scamper out the window with a parting shot and wouldn’t be back for hours.

Glaedr frequently compared Arya to (and called her) a wild hatchling. Oromis and others who had contact with dragon hatchlings tended to agree with that comparison.

Arya played with Faolin a lot, forming a strong friendship with him well before she left for the Varden. He was around 4-5 years older than her and lived in one of the smaller villages not far from Ellesméra’s outskirts. While not quite as much of a wild child as Arya, they both were rambunctious and got into all sorts of adventures and trouble together when they weren’t occupied with lessons. They tended to spend nights outside just to keep playing in the morning.

Young Arya hated brussel sprouts. Like it was a physical fight for islanzadi to get her to eat them. But if Oromis made them, she��d eat them. Neither Arya nor Islanzadi know why his tasted better.

It’s hit on in The Promise, but smol Arya seemed to have two different almost personas. The first is when she’s with her mother out in public: Quiet, wide eyed and drinking in everything around her, always trailing a respectful step or two behind. Paolini mentions in his (I think) Post-Brisingr audiobook interview that one of the reasons Arya is so quiet at times is because her mother would speak for her when she was younger, overruling or speaking over her (I think he was saying Islanzadí was extroverted while Arya was just naturally more introverted). Islanzadí in MIC does the same, but Arya balances this by approaching people directly when her mother isn’t around to speak her mind, set the record straight, and started doing this from a very young age. When able to be herself, young Arya was a wild child, asking questions, climbing all over everything, making things.

Arya was taught primarily by Oromis and Glaedr in general education as well as swordplay, but much of her swordplay was taught by Brom and she developed her own initial style by mixing theirs while practicing on her own. Her firearms training was more taught by Brom and a few other elves.

Rhunön learned pretty quick that she couldn’t chase Arya out of the forge. She mostly let Arya watch as she worked, occasionally letting her help with refueling the forge, making charcoal, and other small tasks before teaching the kid how to do basic repairs on equipment. As a side note, Rhunön was the one who helped develop Arya and Elf Squad’s spidersilk jackets. In Arya’s case she also implemented the remains of a very battered armored leather jacket that someone in the Varden had gifted her. Rhunön has a soft spot for Arya, but she’s not ever going to admit it. Arya learned a LOT of mechanical and engineering stuff from Rhunön as a kid, leading to her future successes in sabotaging Broddring artillery and helping build artillery for the Varden and helping to maintain some of the remaining dwarvish tanks that the Varden had at their disposal.

It’s not solid yet, and not exactly young Arya, but there is some sort of relationship between Islanzadí’s side of the family and one of the Forsworn. I’m not trying to be cliché! Lords-of-the-Empire had a good idea for it and it’s been in the works a long time to iron out the cliché bits. No promises on when or if that will ever be out.

As mentioned in The Promise, Arya constantly followed Brom around when he would come back to Ellesméra. Asking him stuff about the war both current and past, examining his gear, getting stuff like books and materials from him from the outside world, and as she got older they would spend hours talking out the most recent issues mechanical and political that were plaguing the Varden.

Arya’s skill with teleportation spells started young. Young elves and elflings are very strongly connected to magic, their emotions and states of mind occasionally bleeding out through subconscious spells (Again seen in The Promise). Arya’s first (accidental) use of the spell nearly killed her, and to prevent such an accident from happening again Oromis taught her the theory behind it and the words so that it would be less likely to slip. Despite her age Arya understood it and, after years of carefully supervised practice, became a master at pinpoint teleportation. Which is why she’s so miffed about ‘messing up’ when Saphira’s egg appeared to Eragon, and relieved when it was later shown to be meddling that caused the massive deviation.

Glaedr occasionally ‘babysat’ for a toddler/young Arya. It reminded him of watching over the hatchlings during the Rider years, especially with the girl’s wild streak.

Thanks for the ask as always, Books!! :D Always appreciate your support and questions!! I'll definitely keep adding to this as time goes on, so keep an eye out!

[zwierzodudle]

managed to finish a prompt today, starting with the wonderfully contrasting DnD ocs that me and @tokidokifish have

[ask-ethari-anything]

Did you just call human ears "cute"?

I did indeed. They are cute! They look like tiny baby elfling ears! So smol.

With your cute baby ears and how you’re all shorter than I am, you’re all adorable.

[first-son-of-finwe]

I really wanna do something with smol Feanor now...

Poke me if you want a tiny precocious elfling thrown at you.

[thegreatstrongbow]

cuilpantielthesleepyscribe replied to your post: *elfling Oreo toddles up to him and flops down on...

Okay but my dog is named Oreo and she is very smol and adorable so for a moment I was genuinely confused

tell your dog i love her

[scion-of-kings]

A smol tiny elfling runs to Fingon with the biggest drawing he’s ever painted in his short life, then jumps around him to get his attention. “Happy Ada’s Day, Ada!” @loyalservants

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Prompt: Please don’t cry, I can’t stand to see you cry

Pairing: Meludir x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by @psychostatic ; thank you so much! I hope you enjoy it! Meludir is my smol bean 

~

“Meleth! Where are you?” you could hear your boyfriend, Meludir calling. You didn’t want him to see you, not like this. It was ridiculous.

‘You’re acting childish.’ you chastise yourself, looking down at the mess of flowers and twine. You had seen the other elleths in the gardens making flower crowns. Wanting to join in on the fun, you had decided to make matching ones for you and Meludir. It seemed like such a simple task, the few elflings in Mirkwood could even do it, but you couldn’t.

So here you are, hiding in your room, attempting to save the deformed flower crowns, not having enough pride to face Meludir- even if he didn’t know what you had attempted. 

“There you are!” Meludir flings to door open in a dramatic gesture. “I’ve been looking for you!” he closes the door and steps into the room, walking towards you.

As quickly as possible, you attempt to hide the flower mess under your bed, only Meludir sees it before you can. 

“What’s all this Meleth?” He crouches down in front of you, inspecting the mess.

“Nothing,” you mutter looking away from him. Embarrassment permanently staining your face.

“Did- did you try to make a flower crown?” He asks, putting his hand under your chin so he can look at your face. 

“I saw the other elleths making them, I wanted to make us a matching set as a surprise,” you mumble, but his elvish hearing picks it up. And he laughs. At you. 

It’s unintentional, the tears pour out from your eyes and you can’t make them stop. Pulling your face away from him, you tuck yourself away from him, back facing him. But he already saw the tears.

“No. No. No!” Meludir quickly runs over to you, pulling your body into his, rubbing his hand over your hair and rocking you in an attempt to calm you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please don’t cry; I can’t stand it when you cry!” After a moment, the tears slow down and you look up at him. 

“This is so embarrassing. I knew it was a dumb idea.” you grumpily say, Meludir uses one of his hands to wipe away the remaining tears. 

“Nothing you do can ever be a dumb idea, Meleth.” You blush at his compliment, giving a shy smile. He leans down and gives a chaste kiss to your lips and pulls away. “Let’s make flower crowns tomorrow, together.” With a nod from you, Meludir smiles, kissing you once more.

[elvcnson]

non verbal prompts meme

@tharanduil​ said: night terrors . holding  legolas  after  he  wakes  up  from  a  nightmare.

A WONDERMENT WAS IT, THE SILENT INTUITION, THE KING’S STEADFAST ABILITY TO SEEMINGLY APPEAR LONG BEFORE GENTLE TEARS SHIFT TO FRIGHTENED WAIL. Before sharp shuddering breaths turn to an  a n g u i s h e d  cry for aid. An amazement was it, the KNOWING that swept parent to a child’s side. Indeed. Such feats would have sent the elfling’s blue eyes wide, awash with childish ASTONISHMENT at a father’s transcendental abilities, if distress had not deemed to claim so tightly a hold to small struggling lungs. Crystalline hues instead filled with a steady glistening. Tears teetering, unspilled but threatening an effusive flood upon the brim of lashes. A dam barely holding a DELUGE at bay.

Hands that so often carry a perpetual g e n t l e n e s s  within them, now gripped tightly. GREENLEAF’S fingers curled into his father’s robes, grasping fistfuls of the delicate fabric between small unrelenting digits. With such fearful desperation did they cling. Shallow, shaking breaths jerking a petite rib cage even as Legolas fought against tears from a lachrymose gaze. The princeling’s heartbeat akin to a FRIGHTENED BIRD frantically attempting to evade a predators capture. Such vivid terrors haunting a child’s waking mind still. Their ghosts chasing at diminutive heels. Crawling still at the edges of consciousness.  He could not close his eyes! They would surely come for him once more!

A tiny nose burrowed into crook of the king’s neck. Attempting to seek COMFORT. Attempting escape from a nightmares LOOMING presence. Yet even as warm, protective arms brought him close, Legolas’ could not ease his own hold. Crown of pale locks tossed  a s u n d e r.  Naught but a sound of quiet DISTRESS catching in the young ellon’s throat. Breath stuttering as the princeling inhaled the familiar scent of LAVENDER. His father would make them leave, he would not let them take him!

[elenure]

‘ hey, hey. i’m not going anywhere. ’ (gil for smol twins)

* family prompts

While Fëaranyë herself had not been given the gift of foresight, her twin brother had, and she could sense his terror and distress from his most recent vision. She had run from where she had been playing in the gardens to the library, and found him curled into himself, tears streaking his cheeks as sobs wracked his small body. Whispering soothing words, she had sat beside him and stroked his back until he had calmed enough for her to fetch their father.

Ereinion curled immediately into the strong and protective embrace of Gil-galad, his sobs returning as he recalled the vision that had put him in this state. 

Blood stained the earth underneath the feet of thousands of elven soldiers as they battled horrible monsters. Sketches depicted in old textbooks or his mothers drawings had done little to prepare him for the horror of this beasts, and terror immediately took a firm grip on his heart. But the true cause of his distress had been further beyond him, where he could see his father’s insignia clear among the sea of darkness. 

Flames and horrible screams had followed not long after.

The crying elfling clutched at Gil-galad’s shirt, holding tightly as if letting go would cause the scene from his vision to become reality. Fëaranyë wrapped her arms tightly around her father as well, watching Ereinion with concern, afraid and worried after seeing her brother in such a state.

“Don’t leave me, atya,” Ereinion pleaded.

@edhelquendi

[freddiemercuryslittledarling1]

He is! He reminds me of a little smol hobbit elfling sprite. I want to boop him @allthe-queens-men

@toomuchlove-willkillyou Roger is like if you crossed an elf with a hobbit

[loyalservants]

*tosses a smol maeglin at mairon*

                Mairon looked upon the Elfling in her arms with a quizzical look adorning her fair face. The young one fell upon her hands from above. The Maia looked up to see where he had come from. Then her eyes returned to young Maeglin. Her lips curled into an unpleased frown.

❝ Do you do this often, little one? ❞

               She asked with a curious gaze. She began to question Aredhon and his parenting but truly, the ellon seemed nothing like the type to simply let the child run around alone without supervision. Still, she was concerned of the little one regardless of not being her kin. Placing the young one down, she knelt as she examined him, her thin fingers wrapped around his plump arms as her eyes wandered for wounds or any sort of bleeding.

❝ Are you hurt? Do I have to call upon    the healers? ❞

( @elvellonath )

[elvcnson]

there’s an outtake/blooper of Tauriel’s actress pulling the string of her bow back too far and catching the tip of her elf ear in the draw and just.....imagine smol elves learning to use their bow, pulling it back incorrectly/with too much eagerness and catching their pointed ear with a PING. Just TEARS in those elfling eyes for a minute because that hurt

[elvcnson]

PHYSICAL PROMPTS

@tharanduil​ said: ❰❰ LIFT ❱❱ Thranduil carries smol Legolas over his shoulder / bed time !

‘ Û, AVON CARED, ADA! ’  Such fervent denial came abundant. Not a DENT to be found in it’s flow, so handsomely was it fed by the stubborn defiance to enflame youthful veins. Defiance SEWN from the tapestries of both parents and one that refused to relinquish it's hold upon petite limbs as they flailed in their  r e b e l l i o u s   distaste atop their new perch.  Nay! Defeat would not come to him so easily! For he was a babe no longer.  And as such, he simply was not yet tired!

Such a WOUNDING of young pride that had come! To be so easily swept upon a parents shoulder. Protests allowed and UNHINDERED, yet offering little effect in an effort to STALL a father’s lengthy stride. GREENLEAF’S hands grappling with the finely embroidered fabric of the King’s attire as purchase and l e v e r a g e  was sought. The young princeling’s limited strength attempting to find freedom neath an ancient grip to no avail, FRUSTRATION creasing and tightly drawing the elfling’s BROWS. 

It was with much fanfare that vehement struggles at last ceased. Alas! Alas! It was no good!  LEGOLAS falling limp, UNMOVING upon the broad shoulder that braced his sparse weight. A great exhale of  p r o n o u n c e d   breath following. As though the ellon had thus suffered a great BLOW by this shameful defeat. The THRANDUILION’S face against a father’s back. Words  m u f f l e d  neath the covering of shimmering fabrics.  ‘ Ae! Leithio nin, len iallon ada. ’