#FëaNel

[katarrinskey]

When in doubt, keep drawing fancy Noldor

[thetiredprometheus]

In the silmarillion it is said that Fëanor "wedded Nerdanel while still in his early youth" and only afterwards does it mention Finwë's second marriage so

And if so, would that make Maedhros and Fingolfin around the same age? Would Maedhros be older than his uncles?

[yellow-faerie]

After You Left

Fic by @yellow-faerie (AO3)

Art by @megmarch1880 (AO3) - Original found here

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Minor Character Death Off Screen

Relationships: Fëanor & Children of Indis, Fëanor/Nerdanel

Characters: Fëanor, Nerdanel, Fingolfin, Finarfin, Findis, Lalwen

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary:

Mostly, Fëanáro is just glad that Nerdanel didn't leave him when it happened.

-

Finwë and Indis are dead; Fëanáro, young and only just recently flown the near, must return while mired in grief to rule a people and to care for four younger siblings.

Later, the will deal with revenge, but for now he must focus on each day as they come.

This is a fic for @tolkienrsb, for slide #26!

[moonlightswritingandstuff]

in the wreck of all we burnt stands our piano like a wound (i play our song to see if it's in tune)

trigger warnings: none

Fëanáro is reembodied as the Fourth Age of the Sun commences, and he has to deal with several things. But there's one thing he cannot quite manage to fix. That is, his relationship with his wife. Or: five (but more like six) times Nerdanel doesn't reach out, and one time she does.

for best results (and notes), read on ao3!

0. A letter

Nerdanel Mahtaniel, Greetings. I am not quite sure how to write this letter. All those years of speechwriting and linguists and still, still words fail me. I suppose I should start with what I must say: I am sorry. For my actions, for how everything ended, for everything. I cannot apologize for marrying you first, for our sons are still bright spots in the endlessness of Arda, but I can apologize for everything thereafter. The truth of it is that I do not know what else to say. Goodbye, Fëanáro Þerindion

Nerdanel does not send a letter back.

«»

1. A festival

As loathe as Fëanáro is to attend, Ingoldo had begged him - something about easing diplomatic tensions, and Fëanáro owes his brother anyway. Ingoldo is still angry about the Exile and Fëanáro leaving him to be High King in Valinor.

It is a lovely festival. The Meren Elenion, at the solstice of winter, as the night is at its longest. It had always been Fëanáro's mother's favourite festival, from what he remembers before the final years before his adulthood, when Míriel Þerindë grew weaker.

And so she is at his side now, as they walk a slow procession towards the festival. None are eager to see Fëanáro, he thinks, except perhaps Findis, who has yet not seen him since his reembodiment.

At least he doesn't need to apologize. He had an official one, and in the spirit of reunification amongst the Eldar, they have judged him unneeding of any punishment. Ingwë put it most succinctly - "For what punishment could we doll that would not just be vengeance? For what punishment could we give when the guilty has already understood his wrongdoing?". Even Olwë Ciriáran did not protest, and even though there was unrest, Fëanáro did not have any punishment but Ages spent in the Halls.

And now Fëanáro is at the Meren Elenion. He wears the appropriate colours - deep black, with only hints of purple, embroidered silver stars. A single Fëanárean star.

"Ready?" Míriel asks, as together as always, the sort of regal quality to here that Fëanáro has always lacked shining through.

Míriel wears the star of her son, too, and Fëanáro can find pride in perhaps just that.

As they round the corner into the area of the festival, Fëanáro can see Nerdanel in the distance, the way his eyes still always betray him, the way his eyes still find her.

Throughout the course of the festival, Fëanáro does not reach out and speak to her once.

«»

2. A dinner

Six of Fëanáro's sons are reembodied, the seventh across the sea and never coming back. They speak to him, often, in different ways than what they used to.

One time, though, Fëanáro overhears a conversation between them.

"He's so young," Telufinwë tells Morifinwë. "Atto, I mean. Compared to us, at least."

"I know," Morifinwë replies. "But he is our atar. And he's trying."

Fëanáro doesn't know how to tell them that he wants to help. He wants to help them get better, to heal, but it can't work. There are caricatures of him, he knows, as someone who is so angry all the time, and he was, but now he just wants to let his sons know that he wants to support them and wants to help them and wants to love them.

Fëanáro does not know if he can help, though.

The first time they all have dinner together, it is achingly stiff, all those years and nothing to say. Even Turkafinwë, the heir of Fëanáro's word-smithing and lingustics, says nothing. Even Nelyafinwë, who could motivate anyone with his speeches, says nothing. Even Curufinwë, silver-tongued, says nothing. Even Morifinwë and Pityafinwë and Telufinwë say nothing.

Fëanáro wonders if it is because they are all trying not to look at the empty chair where Kánafinwë should be sitting, or the chair reserved for Nerdanel that she has never sat in.

Fëanáro knows little of his sons now. He does not know if they prefer their ataressi any more, or if Nelyafinwë wants to be called Maedhros and Morifinwë Caranthir. He would give them new ataressi, for the new people they are, but he is not sure if that is an overstep. He is not even sure what he would name them now. He does not know them well enough.

He wants to know them now, but he says nothing, for he feels anything would be an overstep.

The second time Fëanáro has a large family dinner is rather with the entire House of Finwë. Nerdanel is invited.

They are on, perhaps, opposite sides of the table, and so Fëanáro does not speak to her for the entirety of dinner. Instead, he discusses Nelyarin linguistics with Lalwendë, Findis, and Findaráto.

Only at the end of dinner does Nerdanel approach him. He tries not to notice that everyone else is pointedly not paying attention to them.

"A good dinner, no?" she asks him, and he hates the way that it is achingly small talk rather than what they used to discuss, mineral deposits and debating stone and gems and philosophy and everything in between.

"Yes," Fëanáro replies, and he immediately hates that reply. It's all too awkward.

"It is good to see you again," she says, and pauses.

Fëanáro waits.

She does not say anything more, and they stand next to each other until Fëanáro leaves.

(The journey to Formenos is not a matter of days, only of hours, and Fëanáro, Míriel, and his sons return as the moon sets. Fëanáro misses Nerdanel, truth be told, but he cannot focus on it, or it feels like he cannot breathe at all.)

«»

2.5. Another letter

To Nerdanel, Dear Nerdanel, To Nerdanel, Sometimes I wonder if you ever think of me. I saw you at the marketplace the other day, and I want you to know I miss you and I still love you. and I hope you're doing well. I suppose you're conflicted You must be conflicted about me, I know, but if you want to talk to me, I'll be open at any point I'll reply. Love, Goodbye,, Thank you, Sincerely, Fëanáro Curufinwë.

Fëanáro does not end up sending any letters.

«»

3. A random day

Fëanáro hasn't stepped into the forge since he was reembodied. It's been three years of the sun, yet he cannot seem to bring himself to make something of metal, to make jewels, to do anything in the forge except stand at the entrance, paralyzed.

Instead, Fëanáro has picked up embroidery. He had always been terrified of approaching it in his first life, when it was always a memory of his mother. Míriel had taught him while she still lived, but Fëanáro was too young to understand its value and found it boring, and so in his adult life, he was terrified to mess up a skill so ingrained in his memory of his mother. Would he disappoint her?

Now, though, Míriel teaches him how to embroider whiel Morifinwë sits to the side. She is patient and never disappointed, and Fëanáro understands that she loves him.

Now, though, Fëanáro stands at the entrance to the forge again, the memory of his past life still haunting him. He can hear Curufinwë inside, with Tyelperinquar, reconnecting and trying again.

He misses Curufinwë. He sees Curufinwë every day, but now Fëanáro can't go into the forge at all, and he needs some other way to connect with Curufinwë.

Curufinwë was never his favourite son, even though he tried not to have favourites. Curufinwë, for all he inherited Fëanáro's forge prowess, was never Fëanáro's true heir. That honour went to Kánafinwë, who inherited Fëanáro's prodigious skill, the skill that truly set him apart from everyone else, and so Fëanáro found himself favouring his second son, and for all that favour Kánafinwë has yet never come back.

Nerdanel, Fëanáro knows, had her favourites too - more specifically, Nelyafinwë. Míriel's favourite is Morifinwë, Fëanáro knows, and Finwë's favourite was Curufinwë. Indis, herself, prefers Turkafinwë.

And the Ambarussat, well, they were clearly Nelyafinwë's favourites, even if Nelyafinwë was a brother and not a parent or grandparent. Kánafinwë and Morifinwë were each other's favourite, and Curufinwë and Tyelkormo each other's, too. Only Nelyafinwë did not have a brother who had him as their favourite.

Nelyafinwë had Findekáno, at least.

And so Fëanáro regrets, and he takes one step towards the forge entrance, only halting once more.

He stands like that, staring at the door, unable to open it.

"You should open it," Nerdanel says, to his surprise. He did not know she had even come to Formenos.

"Nerdanel?"

"Fëanáro." Nerdanel moves to stand next to him, and he can see her auburn hair out of the corner of his eye. Had she always been so beautiful? "You should work in the forge again."

He takes a deep breath, and turns towards her.

"After the Darkening," Nerdanel continues, "I didn't sculpt for years and years, not until the sun rose again in the east did I pick up a chisel. My father thought I was fading."

That was how it ended with Míriel. In the last years of her first life, as Fëanáro approached adulthood, Míriel had stopped embroidering and weaving.

"The first thing I made again was crude," Nerdanel tells him. She still looks towards the door, and she does not turn to face him. Instead, she closes her eyes. "It was a figure, a small figure, of you. I smashed it. I had smashed all my other sculptures, when we recieved news of Kinslaying at Alqualondë. My sculptures of you, of our children, of me, of my father, of the Valar, of people I had seen just in the street.

"It was years after that I finally stopped smashing everything I made. I was later told that that year was the precise year that the Dagor Aglareb was fought.

"Just start, Fëanáro. Destroy the first few things you make, if you have to."

Fëanáro does not say anything.

Nerdanel does not open her eyes, either, but the next day, Fëanáro is in the forge.

(True to what she said, he does melt down the first things he makes. He destroys them. But eventually, on the fifth year anniversary of his reembodiment, he does not burn the little bauble that he made.)

«»

4. Kánafinwë's homecoming

The last ship from the Havens has been spotted, and Fëanáro, at least, recieved a letter for who was on it.

Kánafinwë, his son, finally back. All of them, finally back.

And so they all are there, Fëanáro and Nerdanel and their six sons who are not Kánafinwë. They are a little ways away from Alqualondë - Fëanáro is not permitted to go to Alqualondë - but Elrond is here too, and his wife Celebrían, and Altáriel. He knows Altáriel's husband is on the ship, and Elrond and Celebrían's two sons.

There are many Falathrim also, Círdan's people awaiting him, and between them all, they make a fine party.

Elladan and Elrohir, named both elf-men, step off the shining ship first, and immediately run to their parents, who embrace them, Celebrían cradling their heads in her hands. Elrond had translated their names to Quenya as Elenatan and Eleroquen, just as he had changed his mortal daughter Arwen's name to Arawendë and translated his own to Elerondo before Fëanáro had clarified that he did know Þindarin. Their ataressi remained untouched, and none but the family itself know their ataressi.

Then Círdan steps off, and he immediately addresses his people, and in his wake, finally, Kánafinwë steps forward.

Fëanáro can tell the exact moment that he sees them.

"Atto?" he asks, and Fëanáro almost runs to him.

"Kánafinwë," he returns, and brings both of Kánafinwë's hands into his. "Oh, look at you."

Kánafinwë drops his hands and buries his head into Fëanáro's neck, and Fëanáro holds him for a little, and Nerdanel too - when did she get there? - and then Kánafinwë finally looks up and runs to his brothers, leaving Fëanáro and Nerdanel to watch.

"All of our sons are home," Nerdanel says, softly.

"They've changed," Fëanáro replies, "so much."

"Ah, but what is everlasting love but to love someone as they change?"

Fëanáro looks at her. "I don't know. I am glad for it, though."

Nerdanel smiles, briefly, but she does not look at him.

(Kánafinwë moves back to Formenos, and Fëanáro's house is full of song again. He missed Kánafinwë, truly, and he ignores the snippet that he hears of Nelyafinwë telling Kánafinwë that he and Nerdanel are not married once more, and Kánafinwë's accompanying bit of disappointment.)

«»

5. Seven letters

Fëanáro, I may hate you. Bastard. Asshole. How dare you come back, how dare you! How dare you live and curse us once more! I hate you. I will never stop hating you until the world is Remade, until the seas are in upheaval. You cursed our sons. Nerdanel Never sent.

Fëanáro, I got your letter. An apology! It is barely sufficient; it will never be enough. I have smashed every statue I made of you, again, again and again and again, and now they are simply dust in my studio. I hate you. Why did you have to come back? Nerdanel Never sent.

Fëanáro, I saw you at the festival. Nerdanel Never sent.

Fëanáro, I am to visit Formenos. You will never recieve this letter. Nerdanel Never sent.

Fëanáro, Makalaurë is coming home. He's coming home. All of our sons. They visit me once a month, you know, always speaking a little of you. I heard that you are working in the forges once more, and I am glad for it, I suppose. I miss you. I miss your smile, your eyes, the way your fingers never stopped moving, the way you always wanted to know more of the world. Nerdanel Never sent.

Dear Fëanáro, I am sick of missing you. I'm coming to Formenos. Nerdanel Sent.

Dear Nerdanel, I await your arrival. Fëanáro Sent.

«»

+1. A festival, again

Nerdanel arrives to Formenos on the solstice of winter. She has been to Formenos before, of course, but never like this. There is snow on the ground, candles lit in preparation for the Meren Elenion later, once the moon sets.

Nerdanel wore the proper clothing, of course, ink-black embroidered with stars. Although it is almost improper, her ink-black has glances of purple anyway. She did not deliberately choose one of her garments with the Fëanárean star on it, she promises, despite the fact that she burned all that clothing after the Kinslaying at Alqualondë.

Eru, she wants to see Fëanáro. She wants to see his smile, his eyes, the way he barely complies with Ñoldorin decorum. She wants to see him like she did when they first got married - eloped, with no one as witness. She wants to see him like she did went they met - two youths utterly obsessed with their work. She wants to see him.

She remembers the scandal of their marriage, for a brief moment. The prince of the Ñoldor, epitome of Ñoldorin beauty, running off and marrying the plain daughter of Mahtan Aulendur, without a wedding and certainly without parental approval.

She walks through the house. She knows their seven sons are visiting Tirion for its Meren Elenion, but Fëanáro and Míriel have stayed in Formenos. It is just her and Fëanáro, somewhere, in the house.

She finds him embroidering something, but upon seeing her, he sets it to the side, and stands up, and she leads him out to walk in the forest surrounding Formenos, on well-worn paths with the snow climbing around them.

"Nerdanel," he says, and stops.

"I have missed you," she tells him. "I have missed you, Curufinwë Fëanáro, and I am sick of missing you."

He smiles at her, and oh, how did Nerdanel ever think she could forget him?

"I have missed you too," Fëanáro says carefully. "In my first life, I would oft think of you in Formenos, wondering why you could leave. I would think I could not miss you in day, but as night approached, I would think of you once more."

"Oh, cut the sweet words," Nerdanel tells him. "We're too old for that."

Fëanáro rolls his eyes. "You're too old for that, Nerdanel. I, however, have lived only ten years under the sun."

Nerdanel laughs at him. "Ah, but we do not count your time in the Halls?"

"Since when do I remember my time in the Halls?"

"Well, you certainly changed enough."

Fëanáro frowns, a little. "And could you still love me as I stand changed, Istarnië?"

"All the more for it," Nerdanel tells him, and it is true, at least. His voice around her amilessë, and the way he smiles, so hopeful, makes Nerdanel want to have him back. She could never have loved him as she left him, that first time, but she can love him now.

He offers her his hand, and she takes it.

(When they finally arrive back, the Meren Elenion has already began. They walk the candle-paths together, and Nerdanel spends most of the time looking at Fëanáro rather than the candles or the stars the festival is in honour of.)

[grey-gazania-fic]

World Turned Upside Down - a Fëanor/Nerdanel fanmix

"Prettiness" - Noe Venable

I have never been one for prettiness (prettiness) Thinking of lace 'bout makes me puke But the thing I just bought has a little bit (little bit) I'm putting it on and I'm thinking of you.

"Nothing Without You" - Vienna Teng

All my books are lying useless now All my maps will only show me how to lose my way Oh, call my name; you know my name And in that sound, everything will change Tell me it won't always be this hard I am nothing without you, but I don't know who you are.

"Take This Longing" - Leonard Cohen

Your beauty lost to you yourself Just as it was lost to them. Oh, take this longing from my tongue, Whatever useless things these hands have done Let me see your beauty broken down Like you would do for one you love.

"Cannonball" - Vienna Teng

Stones taught me to fly Love taught me to lie Life taught me to die And it's not hard to fall When you float like a cannonball.

"If I Were a Weapon" - Suzanne Vega

I feel more like a needle Always pulling on the thread Always making the same point again And wondering if you heard what I just said.

"Where's the Girl?" - Voltaire

Where's the girl I fell in love with? Where'd she go? Where's that kind and gentle princess Of my dreams? Where'd she go? Why'd she go away? Where'd she go? Why'd you take her away from me?

"Storm in a Teacup" - Susan McKeown

I'd forgotten what it looked like To look in your eyes and see all that madness and mistrust.

"House Where Nobody Lives" - Tom Waits

What makes a house grand ain't the roof or the doors If there's love in a house it's a palace for sure Without love, it ain't nothing but a house A house where nobody lives.

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

yet again consumed by transmasc lesbian fëanáro x transfem lesbian nerdanel on this fine eve.. i don't know i just think they deserve to have their cruel measure of unhinged makeup-breakup sex where 'prince' is there but in a gender way... would you still love me if i was unserious perhaps even wretchedly so

[feanor]

and it’s worth it (it’s divine)

rating: teen

relationship: curufinwë fëanáro/nerdanel

length: 1353 words. oneshot

summary: in the end, there has only ever been fëanáro

[astral-aromance]

Maybe I should write that horribly sappy, yearning, touch starved FëaNel reunion sex fic...

In nearly all the fics I've read so far where they fuck after Fëanor's reembodiment it's kinky hate sex... I think it should be awfully emotional and tender, actually.

[superloves4]

Posting my list of wips so that I may peer pressure myself into finishing them

(Unnamed, three part series, containing Curufinrod, Aretyel and Fëanel): Celegorm and Curufin (and eventually Fëanor) are out of the Halls and trying to figure out what to do with themselves, the meaning of apologizing and even forgiveness

10 pages (+ 4 bonus) comic that serves as introduction on aforementioned series (specifically Fëanor’s part)

(Maybe, very maybe, a fourth part to this series for Maedhros and Maglor, and mayyybe a fifth for Caranthir with Halenthir angst and secret love-child Erestor)

Fëanor son of Melkor Au: it may not look like it but I am working on this, mainly the kidnap fam 2.0 version of it, mostly trying to figure out what to do with Finwë while the wholesome family stuff is happening and how to balance Fëanor being a different person while also being recognizably him

Small comic strip on Fëanor son of Melkor au, currently too focused on the bigger one

(Modern Au, unnamed, also a three part, Curufinrod, Celeborn/Galadriel, Aretyel, not everyone is related): 1. Teen dad Curufin is too proud to ask his parents for help so he ends up rooming with his former neighbour Finrod 2. Everything is perfect for Galadriel so when one of her tests isn’t perfect she decides to get tutoring (there’s Amroth son of Celeborn) 3. Aredhel has an unfortunate one-night stand and decides to co-parent with her best friend since childhood Tyelko

Miscellanous of things not relating to Silmarillion or too small for a dedicated introduction

On consideration: E&E demi-gods au (with Earendil/Elwing/Maglor)

[tarrevizsla]

the years of the trees power couple.

[tarrevizsla]

but they're adorable

come to the czech side we have fëanel

Don't tempt me, I have things I have to do before I can find myself another hyperfixation

[iminye]

Fëanel || Fëanor x Nerdanel

600 Follower Celebration - send me a request and I make a moodboard!

For @feanorianethicsdepartment who requested a Feanel moodboard! I tried to channel the chaotic energy you requested but I don't know how well that worked. Hope you still like it <3

[yellow-faerie]

12, feanerd, aaaangst

Oooh, absolutely!

From this prompt list.

12 - “It wasn’t like that. I...I loved him.”

There is a knock on Nerdanel’s door.

She ignores it, hoping that whoever it is takes the clue and leaves so she can focus on her project.

Her plan lasts all of five minutes, at which point she begins to hear the tell tale signs of a lock being picked and decides that someone breaking might be more important than her work.

She grabs a particularly sharp chisel on her way out.

She gets to the entranceway at the same time as her great-grandson manages to finish with the lock and opens the door triumphantly.

His face drops as he sees Nerdanel standing there but Nerdanel merely gives him a tight smile as she drops her tool in her front pocket.

“That’s the fourth quickest lock-picking I’ve been witness to in this house.”

“Only the fourth?” Elladan asks as Nerdanel gestures for him to step inside and shuts the door, checking the lock to see if any damage had been done to it.

“Yes but you managed to keep the mechanism working so I’ll give you extra points for that.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“It was a compliment. But what brings you to my humble abode?”

She begins to make her way back to her studio, if only to clear up before turning her whole attention to her guest, and Elladan has to run a bit to keep up with her.

“Nana wanted to ask if you had any of Haru Maglor’s old music. She thought it might cheer Atta up.”

Nerdanel snorts a laugh. “Not likely. Maglor’s earliest music was a bit strange or too…exuberant and that’s all he left here. If you want his best stuff is either decomposing in the ruins of Formenos or drowned with the rest of Beleriand.”

She kneels down to lock her tools in their box, trying not to think of a little boy with gaps in his teeth from fighting with his brothers, proudly handing her a scribbled mess of notes and words.

“I could take it anyway? Nana might be able to do something with it.”

“No.” Nerdanel straightens up. “Tell your mother that if she wants to cheer her husband up, she shouldn’t bring up ghosts of the past.”

She drags a sheet over her half-finished statue and ties it down to the rings on the floor.

Elladan shuffles his feet, tapping the toe of his boot against the stone in the same way Ambarussa used to do while his brother attempted to lie their way out of a punishment.

“I’ll get going then?”

“Of course not,” Nerdanel says sharply. “You’ve come all the way from the sea to see me, the least I could do is provide you with supper and a bed for the night.”

She turns around, untying her apron and throwing it onto its hook.

“Come along dear great-grandson,” she says, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “I think I have some bread in the cupboard and I probably still have some sprinkles somewhere - we can make some fairy bread.”

“Fairy bread?”

“Bread and sprinkles. It’s surprisingly nice. Náro…Náro used to make it.”

+

Elladan looks a little sceptically at his plate. “Are you sure this is safe to eat?”

“No,” Nerdanel says through an incredibly sweet mouthful. “It will probably give you heart failure.”

“You said Fëanor…you said Atatto made this a lot?” Elladan worries at his lip.

“You don’t need to pretend to be interested just because we’re family.”

“I’m not! Pretending that is. I just…I can’t imagine the Fëanor I grew up hearing about making and eating…this.” He gestures at his plate of barely eaten bread.

Nerdanel laughs, something between a snort and cough. “Oh the Fëanáro of the history books wouldn’t. But history books don’t tend to mention someone’s idiosyncrasies nor how they were…before history came into the equation.”

She sighs and takes another bite.

“How they were before history?”

She waves a hand vaguely. “You know, people are so different to how they’re portrayed in history books. History books try to make neat narratives tied in a bow but the world doesn’t work like that. Feelings don’t work like that.”

“So…” Elladan trails off, swallowing nervously. “When Fëanor was banished…?”

“It wasn’t like that.” She sighs again, letting her bread drop from her hand onto her plate and spinning a lock of loose hair around her finger. “I…I loved him, back then. We loved each other.”

They had argued, she can remember screaming at him and him screaming back, because they loved each other too much and were too stubborn for their own good.

“I still do, despite everything.”

She doesn’t really notice when Elladan takes another nibble of his bread.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Silm September

Fëanor tries to flirt. Nerdanel is not having it.

Prompt: I try to talk refined for fear that you might find out how I’m imagining you

Words: 200

Pairing: Fëanor x Nerdanel

Warning: mention of sex, mention of breasts

“Greetings, Milady,” Fëanáro intoned as he saw Mahtan’s daughter hurry through the forge, her hair tied up negligently and her strong, freckled arms scandalously bare. “I trust your day has been pleasant thus far.”

Cocking one pale eyebrow at him, she came to a slithering halt beside his workstation. “What’s gotten into you?”

He sniffed in vexation, trying hard not to stare at the beads of sweat trickling down her slender throat to disappear within the alluring valley between the swell of her breasts.

“I try to talk refined for fear that you might find out how I’m imagining you,” he grumbled querulously.

To his surprise, she broke out into cackling laughter at that dismayed comment. “And how would that be, pray tell,” she teased, insinuating a mocking curtsy.

“Naked, by a roaring fire,” he replied provocatively, rounding the rough wooden bench to bridge the distance between them. “Full of admiration for me.”

“Ah, then keep on talking as if you had a metal rod up your behind,” Nerdanel chuckled. “Because that’s highly unlikely.”

With that, she gave his latest experiment a playful flick and went on her merry way.

“Promising, very promising,” he whispered, vowing to work even harder.

Thank you so much for reading!

@tolkienpinupcalendar

↬ Masterlist

[polutrope]

Fëanorian Ships as Leonard Cohen Songs

As promised in this post which was inspired by this post here’s a handful of my fave Fëanorian ships as Leonard Cohen songs.

Featuring FËANEL, RUSSINGON, DAEMAGS and HALENTHIR below the cut.

FËANEL (Fëanor/Nerdanel) 

Waiting for the Miracle (links to YouTube)

After the estrangement, before the Exile. I don’t like to imagine Nerdanel still waiting for any miracles after that. Maybe from Fëanor’s POV. 

I dreamed about you, baby

It was just the other night

Most of you was naked

Ah but some of you was light

The sands of time were falling

From your fingers and your thumb

And you were waiting

For the miracle, for the miracle to come

RUSSINGON (Fingon/Maedhros)

Hallelujah

It’s the rescue song, it hurts so much. The most famous (by far) Leonard song for the OTP. I’m not crying you’re crying. 

Now I've done my best, I know it wasn't much

I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch

I've told the truth, I didn’t come here to fool you

And even though it all went wrong

I'll stand right here before the Lord of song

With nothing, nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

DAEMAGS (Daeron/Maglor) 

Treaty

Post-First Age. The lyrics but also I have been especially musically-intentional with my Maglor-related choices. 

I heard the snake was baffled by his sin

He shed his scales to find the snake within

But born again is born without a skin

The poison enters into everything

And I wish there was a treaty we could sign

I do not care who takes this bloody hill

I'm angry and I'm tired all the time

I wish there was a treaty,

I wish there was a treaty

Between your love and mine

HALENTHIR (Caranthir/Haleth) 

Bird on a Wire

Like a worm on a hook

Like a knight from some old-fashioned book

I have saved all my ribbons for thee

If I, if I have been unkind

I hope that you can just let it go by

If I, if I have been untrue

I hope you know it was never to you

[eight-pointed-star]

hii i can't keep quiet about this anymore

so, there's this silm musical, fëanor a jeho synové (feanor and his sons) by falešné společenstvo anddd there's this song, konfrontace (confrontation; the link will take you to the same video as the previous one but right at the start of the song), about the fallout between fëanor and nerdanel right after fëanor and their sons swear the oath

and it's SO beautiful, please listen to it! here you can find an older recording of the song (audio quality is better though) + the lyrics and sheet music. i'm so insane about this song, the LYRICS are soo great, they make me go insane, like

(from this english translation)

you see, fëanel are my divorced parents, i need them so bad to be together, they should never come within a mile of eachother, AND the song really captured that: the split between these two people who still love each other dearly, the way fëanor refuses to listen to anyone, going on about his plans and dreams, nerdanel begging him to at least not bring their sons with him!

and the singers did such a good job of bringing the characters to life! they both have such beautiful voices, the way nerdanel just screams "já tě zapřísahám" (which is closer to "i implore you", actually) means so much to me, oh god. also they look gorgeous. they're canonical fëanor and nerdanel to me now

in conclusion, konfrontace is a marvelous song i'm now obsessed with, please go listen to it (maybe the whole musical as well? there are other great songs there, i especially like olwë's persuasion and battle under the stars)