#Finrod's Amme

[legolasgoldy]

Know what, why not? Finarfin/Eärwen for the ship meme 🤔 Meanwhile, have a cookie 🍪😉

   // Thank you so much!!! haha @justadutchperson This was fun even though Finrod covered his eyes for a few questions XD Also, im sorry for some short answers, in my mind they are one of the most healthy relationships you could possibly come by

Send me a ship and I’ll tell you…                        

Who asks the other on dates:

I think both of them, they have a wonderful mutual thing going on where they both ask each other on dates. When they first met, they were very formal way of greeting each other, but there was that smile they each had.. they were totally crushing for the longest time. Then finally Finarfin asked her out, and then the next time she asked him out. So on and so on. They were very sweet about it.

Who is the bigger cuddler:

They both are cuddle machines.

Who initiates holding hands more often:

At first it was Earwen, because Finarfin was too polite do it first, and then after the first few times they both do.

Who remembers anniversaries:

Both

Who is more possessive:

I dont think they are possessive? They love and trust each other completely.

Who gets more jealous:

Well like i said in the previous question, they love and trust each other completely so they wouldnt get jealous over thinking one of them were flirting with someone else. Or anything like that. They might get jealous over not being able to spend as much time together as they would like, even if they understood they were busy, so only a smidge.

Who is more protective:

A tie? Im pretty sure its a tie because both are extremely protective of each other and their children. This is why Finarfin went with his children when everyone was going to ask the Teleri for the ships. he begged Earwen for her to stay behind, he couldnt bear for her to be in danger and he promised her he would take care of their children for her. 

Who is more likely to cheat:

Neither. Never.

Who initiates sexy times the most:

I know I keep saying this but i honestly think, they both do. They are so connected they dont need to ask.

Who dislikes PDA the most:

Neither of them show it too much. Not only do elves not show much pda, they are also royalty. So the most they do is chaste kisses and holding hands/arms.

Who kills the spider:

Neither! They both happily put the spider in a cup and take it outside.

Who asks the the other to marry them:

Finarfin

Who buys the other flowers or gifts:

Oh this is a close one, they both give each other little gifts i cant decide which gives the most. Earwen brings him pretty things like seashells, Teleri things, flowers. And Finarfin brings her flowers and other gifts from Tirion. ( when courting, after marriage it changes a bit but they still give each other gifts often)

Who would bring up possibly having kids:

Well..they both were thinking about it, and they both knew they wanted them, but Earwen was the first to actually say it out loud. She told him she wanted to hear the voices of their children through the palace, and see the imprints of their little feet in the sand as they played on the shores by her home. 

Who is more nervous to meet the parents:

Finarfin, oddly enough. Earwen was very brave and happy to meet Finwe and discuss her feelings for his son, she could only see a positive future ahead and while she wasnt of Noldor descent, she knew Finwe had married outside of the Noldor as well. Where as Finarfin was hella nervous to tell Olwe of his feelings for Earwen.

Who sleeps on the couch when the other is angry:

Finarfin.. aka when he comes back without their children and she finds out he and their children participated in the slaying of her people. He slept on the “ couch” for a very very long time.

Who tries to make up first after arguments:

The only real fight they ever had was when he returned after the kinslaying and Finarfin pleaded for forgiveness numerous times. He never stopped trying to make up for it, and eventually she does forgive him but he secretly blames himself for not trying harder to bring their children home. Even if he knows nothing he could have done would have convinced them to return. And the kinslaying was a horrible mistake, surprisingly Earwen could cope with that more because they were horribly mislead and didnt realize. What she couldnt cope with, was their children being alone and thats why she was so upset with Finarfin for a while.

Who tells the other they love them more often:

Its another tie

[arianaofimladris]

My contribution to @officialtolkiensecretsanta for @meg-pond

English version available here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272981

Beta: Tici

Grzechy ojców i synów

 Festiwale i uczty w pałacu królewskim stanowiły zawsze rozrywkę dla dorosłych i dzieci. Zwłaszcza te ostatnie za każdym razem znajdowały coś nowego i ekscytującego. Dla Celegorma było to obserwowanie wszystkiego z nowej perspektywy. Z początku trzymał się starszych braci, szczęśliwy, że uznano go za dość dużego, by mógł siedzieć z dorosłymi, ale gdy zebrani elfowie rozproszyli się po salach i ogrodach, a bracia zniknęli gdzieś z Fingonem, zaczęło mu się nudzić. Tak więc gdy Amme poprosiła, by sprawdził, czy młodsi się nie kłócą, Celegorm chętnie skorzystał z wymówki i czmychnął. Wprawdzie Curufin i Caranthir obiecali Nerdaneli, że będą się zachowywać, ale... Celegorm miał szczerą nadzieję, że nie będzie musiał interweniować. Nie był Maedhrosem czy Maglorem, żeby umieć sobie radzić z zażegnywaniem konfliktów.

Uroczystości stanowiły również dla młodszych uczestników doskonałą okazję do odkrywania pałacowych ogrodów czy zazwyczaj nieużywanych pomieszczeń, kiedy uczta zaczynała im się już dłużyć. Minęło trochę czasu, nim Celegorm odnalazł młodszych braci budujących z Angrodem i Aegnorem wieżę ze wszystkiego, co nawinęło im się pod ręce, od gałązek po puste talerze. Nie miał za bardzo ochoty, żeby do nich dołączyć ani nie chciał ich zaskoczyć i popsuć całej pracy. Zamierzał pójść dalej i może znaleźć Maglora, gdy ktoś go zawołał.

– Tyelkormo, chodź nam pomóc!

Obróciwszy się, Celegorm zobaczył machającego do niego Finroda. Razem z Turgonem próbowali przenieść stosik desek, co samo w sobie wyglądało intrygująco.

– Co macie?

– Dziadek wymieniał przed ucztą boazerię w jednej z sal – wyjaśnił Turgon. W przeciwieństwie do Feanora, Fingolfin z rodziną przybyli do Finwego kilka dni wcześniej. – Te są już do niczego niepotrzebne, ale zobacz, jakie są gładkie, będą idealne! – rozentuzjazmował się, a Finrod potaknął. Gdy zorientowali się, że Celegorm nie ma pojęcia, o czym mówią, zaczęli jeden przez drugiego tłumaczyć, jaki mieli pomysł na zabawę. Gładkie deski, jak twierdzili, powinny się świetnie nadać do zjeżdżania po jednej z szerokich klatek schodowych w pałacu. Mieli upatrzoną tę z zachodniego skrzydła, prowadzącą do ogrodów, obecnie niezbyt uczęszczaną, a jednocześnie wznoszącą się łagodnie w górę majestatycznym biegiem, który zakręcał w połowie wysokości pod kątem prostym i znikał w korytarzu na wyższej kondygnacji.

– Brzmi świetnie – wyszczerzył się Celegorm. Już nie musiał szukać braci, żeby się nie nudzić. – Dajcie mi też.

– Może nawet zrobimy sobie zawody, jeśli deski się sprawdzą – zaproponował Finrod. – Mamy dużo czasu.

Żaden z nich nigdy nie próbował zjeżdżać ze schodów i pomysł brzmiał zachęcająco. Mniej zachęcające było to, że dotarł on do pewnych małych zainteresowanych uszek.

– Jakie zawody? – Celegorm usłyszał pytanie Angroda. Nie miał pojęcia, kiedy dzieciak do nich dołączył. Gdy się odwrócił, zobaczył zarówno kuzynów, jak i braci, którzy porzucili swoją wieżę i podkradli się do starszych.

– Nie chcecie sprawdzić, co robi Artaresto? – zapytał Finrod bez większego przekonania, skoro młodsi już wiedzieli, co planował z kuzynami.

– Jasne, że nie! – prychnął Aegnor. – Pilnuje Nerwen.

– Też się chcemy bawić – oświadczył Curufin. – Nie możecie nam zabronić.

– Bo co? – Turgon przechylił głowę, gdy drażnił się z młodszym chłopcem.

‘Powiem tacie’ zawisło niewypowiedziane w powietrzu, ale zanim któryś z chłopców zwerbalizował groźbę, Finrod dał braciom deskę do niesienia. Curufin i Celegorm wzięli pozostałe dwie, a Caranthir podreptał za nimi. Turgon i Finrod musieli mieć wszystko zaplanowane wcześniej, gdyż poprowadzili kuzynów tak, by nikt ich nie widział. Wciąż słychać było ucztę przez otwarte okna, ale drogę mieli wolną, a wybrana klatka schodowa czekała na nich pusta.

– Dobra, spróbujmy najpierw stąd – zasugerował Turgon, stojąc zaledwie kilka stopni ponad poziomem posadzki. – Nie mieliśmy jak przetestować wcześniej balansowania.

Podczas gdy starsi chłopcy próbowali zjeżdżać na stojąco i nie spadać, Aegnor i Caranthir złapali jedną z desek i wciągnęli ją do góry. Wynikła między nimi krótka sprzeczka odnośnie tego, który miał być pierwszy, ale w końcu Caranthir przytrzymał deskę w miejscu, gdy kuzyn siadał na niej okrakiem, a potem puścił. Aegnor zjechał, śmiejąc się, a Caranthir pobiegł za nim. Raz za razem wciągali deskę do góry, zamieniając się miejscami.

Angrod i Curufin nie mogli się zdecydować, czy lepiej było stać czy siedzieć, więc wypróbowywali obie metody naprzemiennie, podczas gdy starsi skupili się tylko na pierwszej. Potrzeba było trochę czasu i prób zakończonych nagłym skakaniem z deski, nim Turgon, Finrod i Celegorm na tyle opanowali balansowanie, by poczuć się pewnie i spróbować wejść wyżej.

– Ingoldo, ja też chcę – Aegnor zawołał za bratem.

– Myślę, że możemy razem – zaproponował Finrod po chwili namysłu. – Będę cię trzymać.

Celegorm zjechał w dół i obejrzał się w samą porę, by zobaczyć, że Curufin podążył za Finrodem. Westchnął w duchu. Nie znosił być tym dorosłym.

– Sam nie pojedziesz. – Wbiegł po schodach, przeskakując po dwa stopnie na raz.

– Jestem niewiele młodszy niż oni! – zaprotestował Curufin, machając ręką w stronę Finroda i Turgona – I umiem!

– Jesteś młodszy. Możesz zjeżdżać sam z dziesiątego stopnia. To–

Ktoś krzyknął. Celegorm odwrócił się od Curufina, ale było już za późno. Mógł tylko patrzeć, jak Finrod traci równowagę na desce, która wymknęła mu się spod stóp. Chłopiec klapnął gwałtownie na schody, ale impet pociągnął go w dół po stopniach, w ślad za deską niosącą krzyczącego Aegnora. Młodszy kuzyn ściął z nóg Caranthira i obaj potoczyli się aż na parter.

Przez moment zapadła cisza. Finrod zamrugał ze zdumieniem na ostatnim schodku, na którym skończył swój zjazd. Aegnor leżał u jego stóp.

Pozostawiając kuzynów samym sobie, Celegorm pospieszył do brata, który leżał przyklejony do marmurowej posadzki. Gdy go dotknął, Caranthir poderwał się i spojrzał w górę; buzię i brodę miał we krwi. A potem przyszedł płacz.

Celegorm podniósł brata, kompletnie bezradny. Nigdy nie był tak dobry jak Maedhros czy Maglor w pocieszaniu młodszych braci, a teraz nie mógł nawet zobaczyć, co się stało, bo Caranthir zanosił się histerycznym płaczem i nie pozwalał dotknąć.

Aegnor usiadł, spojrzał na brata, czknął i zaniósł się płaczem. Turgon zbiegł, żeby im pomóc, a Curufin i Angrod zostali w połowie schodów i patrzyli na wszystko przestraszeni.

– No nie stójcie tak! Przyprowadźcie Atto!

– Którego? – Angrod zerknął na Finroda, który pozbierał się z podłogi i próbował uspokoić płaczącego brata.

– Obojętnie! – warknął Celegorm ponad głową Caranthira. – Byle sprawnie.

 Tymczasem w jednej z mniejszych sal przygotowanych na ucztę Feanor, Fingolfin i Finarfin pogrążeni byli w żywej dyskusji na temat niezbędnych do przeprowadzenia zmian w pałacu, poprawiających jego funkcjonalność z uwagi na rosnące potrzeby rozrastającej się rodziny. Podczas zgromadzeń takich jak to, często zatrzymywali się na dłużej i pałac ojca robił się zbyt ciasny. A jako że Finwe się zgodził i część prac już prowadzono, bracia znaleźli sobie bezpieczny temat do rozmowy.

Fingolfin zamierzał skorzystać z okazji i przeforsować pewne zmiany, Feanor przedstawił nowe pomysły dotyczące oświetlenia. Finarfin wspomagał ich plany konstrukcyjnymi rysunkami detali i to, co z początku było luźną rozmową o możliwych rozwiązaniach, bracia szybko przemienili w żywą dyskusję podpartą szkicami zrobionymi na pierwszym z brzegu kawałku papieru, ochlapanym winem, gdy któryś przypadkiem trącił kielich. Udawało im się utrzymywać zdrowe proporcje sprzeczek i przyjemności, ale zanim doszli do rozmowy na temat aranżacji ogrodów, przerwał im tupot małych stóp i lawina chaotycznych tłumaczeń Curufina i Angroda, zbyt podnieconych, by mówić z sensem. Zmuszenie ich, by się uspokoili i wyjaśnili, co się stało, było z góry skazane na porażkę, więc ojcowie po prostu podążyli za synami. Fingolfin także poszedł z nimi, jako że najpewniej sprawa dotyczyła również jego potomstwa.

Chłopcy stanęli na wysokości zadania i zamiast jednego ojca, przyprowadzili wszystkich trzech. Celegorm być może uznałby to za zabawne, w końcu rzadko zdarzało się widzieć trzech książąt Noldorów przemierzających korytarze w tak zgodnym pośpiechu, gdyby brat właśnie malowniczo nie rozsmarował sobie krwi z nosa na policzkach, próbując się przed nim zasłonić. I gdyby tak histerycznie nie płakał.

– Co tu się wydarzyło? – Feanor zmierzył spojrzeniem dzieci, potem deskę leżącą pod nogami Finroda i sądząc z miny, z trudem powstrzymał się od wywrócenia oczami.

– To był wypadek! – Jednocześnie z wyjaśnieniem pospieszyli Finrod i Celegorm.

– Nie wątpię. – Najstarszy syn Finwego przytaknął z roztargnieniem i przyklęknął przy Caranthirze. Stanowczym gestem odsunął jego rączki od twarz i w pierwszej kolejności upewnił się, że nos nie był złamany. Palcem ostrożnie otarł rozbitą wargę.

– Nic się nie stało, Moryo. Pochyl się do przodu i poczekaj, aż przestanie – poinstruował spokojnie i położył chłopcu dłoń na ramieniu. Caranthir siąknął nosem i zerknął na ojca, a gdy zobaczył, że ten wciąż klęczy na jego wysokości, zrobił, co mu kazano, i schował buzię w jego kołnierzu. Feanor westchnął, podniósł go i wstał.

– Weź, jest zimny. – Fingolfin podszedł bliżej i podał mu swój kielich, prawie już pusty. Feanor skinął głową w podziękowaniu i zmusił syna, by odkleił się od kołnierza. Gdy mógł już widzieć buzię Caranthira, wciąż czerwoną, choć część krwi zdążył wytrzeć w jego szaty, przyłożył zimny metal do wrażliwego nosa.

Chłopiec pisnął i próbował uciec, balansując na biodrze ojca.

– Nie ruszaj się, Moryo, to pomoże.

– Kto wpadł na ten genialny pomysł? – zapytał Finarfin, gdy już upewnił się, że Aegnor również potrzebował głównie otarcia łez i wymycia podrapanych dłoni.

Finrod i Turgon zerknęli po sobie, ale uparcie milczeli.

– Tego nie planowaliśmy... – Celegorm spróbował wesprzeć kuzynów.

– A ty nie pomyślałeś, żeby powstrzymać tę głupotę, zanim komuś coś się stanie? – zapytał Fingolfin, zwracając się do Celegorma, jako najstarszego w grupie.

– Nie pozwoliłem, żeby Moryo czy Curvo zjeżdżali sami z samej góry! – zaprotestował urażony Celegorm, a Curufin potwierdził jego słowa obrażonym prychnięciem.

– Ale pozostali mogli.

– Zostaw go, Nolofinwe – wtrącił się Feanor z nutą irytacji w głosie, kołysząc Caranthira. – Mój syn nie jest niańką waszych dzieci.

– Nie potrzebuję niańki – wymamrotał pod nosem Turgon, zanim Finrod zdążył nadepnąć mu na stopę.

– Wciąż czekamy na wyjaśnienia – przypomniał surowo Finarfin. – Jak mogliście wpaść na tak niedorzeczny pomysł, żeby pozwolić młodszym braciom brać udział w waszych ryzykownych zabawach.

– Nie brali sami! – zaprotestował niemrawo Finrod. – Zjeżdżaliśmy razem, ale nie wyszło... – urwał i skrzywił się. Aegnor przytaknął i siąknął nosem, spojrzawszy na swoje dłonie..

– Zrobiłeś sobie coś? – Finarfin zwrócił się do najstarszego syna.

– Nie, nie – chłopiec spojrzał po sobie i otrzepał spodnie. – Nic, Atto.

Finarfin obrzucił najstarszego syna krytycznym spojrzeniem, ale nie skomentował. Dzieci wciąż nieskore były wyjaśnić szczegółowo, co takiego skończyło się nieoczekiwanym lądowaniem, ale dalsze tłumaczenia przerwała Lalwende, która weszła z ogrodu. Zatrzymała się w progu, zdziwiona zbiegowiskiem.

– Czemu przenieśliście się na kory... – Lalwende dostrzegła deski i uśmiechnęła się zawadiacko. – O, widzę, że doszliście już do tego etapu.

– Irime, nie pomagasz – westchnął ostentacyjnie Fingolfin.

– Nie zamierzałam, skoro bawicie się beze mnie. – Lalwende roześmiała się dźwięcznie i obdarzyła braci i bratanków krytycznym spojrzeniem. – O ile widzę, wszyscy są nadal w miarę cali. No i nie mówcie mi, że już zapomnieliście, jaka to była świetna zabawa.

Celegorm z trudem powstrzymał się od parsknięcia. Ojciec miał minę jak Maedhros, gdy próbował robić za dorosłego wobec młodszych braci. I w tym momencie radził sobie niewiele lepiej.

Chłopcom nie trzeba było nic więcej.

– Atto, czy to znaczy, że ty też...? – wystrzelił z pytaniem Turgon, podczas gdy Finarfin musiał zmierzyć się z trzema parami oczu wpatrującymi się w niego z zaciekawieniem. Caranthir wciąż był naburmuszony, ale Celegorm i Curufin ciekawi byli usłyszeć historię, w której to nie oni musieliby się tłumaczyć.

– Mnie w to nie mieszaj – prychnął na siostrę Feanor.

– No jak to, też się z nami bawiłeś! – zaprotestowała Lalwende. Zdecydowanie zbyt dobrze bawiła się kosztem braci, by odpuścić. – Choćby po to, by mieć pewność, że nie nabroimy.

– Nie o tym rozmawialiśmy – przerwał im Finarfin. – Ktokolwiek wpadł na ten pomysł, ufam, że wszyscy potraficie sami wyciągnąć wnioski. – Spojrzał surowo po synach i bratankach.

– I myślę, że macie bałagan do posprzątania – dodał Fingolfin, wskazując na porzucone deski. Choć nikt nic nie powiedział, zdawało się, że zgodnie uznali najstarszych chłopców za prowodyrów.

– Och...

– Chcę do Amme – wymamrotał Caranthir ponad nieśmiałymi protestami. Wciąż miał zatkany nos i był wyjątkowo przyklejny.

– Tak, wystarczy tych atrakcji na dzisiaj – zgodził się Feanor i oddał kielich Fingolfinowi. – Chodź, domyjemy cię, zanim cię Amme zobaczy, a potem – spojrzał znacząco na braci – może uda nam się dokończyć rozmowę. Curvo, ty też idziesz ze mną.

– Ale...

– Żadnych „ale”.

Obok Finarfin prowadził dokładnie taką samą dyskusję z Angrodem i Aegnorem, którzy wcale nie chcieli nigdzie iść. Żaden z ojców nie ugiął się jednak i najmłodszy przychówek rodu Finwego został sprawnie zabrany.

Nie dość szybko jednak, by nie usłyszeć Lalwende, która została z resztą dzieci.

– To co, zanim tu posprzątamy. Chcecie zobaczyć, jak to się robi?

[vaciena]

Curvo doesn’t do emotions. He doesn’t tell people he loves them, or even that he cares about them. He doesn’t talk about how proud he is of his family, or how much he cares, or when he’s impressed. He just doesn’t.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think them. 

He sees his Haru dead on the floor of their own home, and remembers all the times he hadn’t told him he cared at all. Remembers how he acted like a brat for attention because he didn’t know how to put it into words that he cared too much and wanted someone to show they cared as much too. He swears to do better.

But he can’t. He doesn’t see Veryanis again, but he knows she’s gone. Knows that all the times he didn’t say I love you or thank you for caring so much about me or you’re an amazing mother were moments wasted that he’ll never get again because they argued instead of spoke. 

Curvo wants to do better. He wants to do it with all his being. He wants to ask his Atar how can you always be so confident? I can’t and tell his Amme he wished they’d managed to know each other, but those chances are gone, gone, gone now like his Atar’s ashes on the wind and his Amme behind an ocean they can never cross again.

Nelyo is gone and all he can think of is you had to grow up so soon for the rest of us and never got any thanks in return but instead he has to watch Cana--I’m so proud of you for being something you never wanted to be when none of us could--act like a leader and be strong and he has to play the roles he could no matter the personal cost of not being able to say thank you or tell Tyelpe I’m scared you’ll die too because you’re the most important thing in the world to me and I’m so proud of how much you’ve handled because he has to be stern and . . . hard.

He has to be hard.

Nelyo is back but not and it’s hard to look at him because all he wants to do is cling to his big brother and cry because you’re here you’re safe I love you so much and I would do anything to keep you alive and happy but he knows he can’t. He has to be the one who doesn’t, because he would do anything for his brothers because he can’t just say I want to keep you you so I’ll take any price so you can be brave and worthwhile and--

Curufin the Crafty, they call him, once he’s established himself as cunning and unafraid and a good leader who would do anything for his people but nothing for himself and everything he doesn’t feel like he could ever actually be and he doesn’t say I’m doing this for you or I don’t know who I am any more but I wish . . .

He can almost trick himself into believing that’s him. Maybe it is. He sees Moryo mourn an Adan’s death and wants to tell him I’m sorry but instead flees so he doesn’t say something cruel. He watches everyone he cares about implode and wants to tell them you’re so brave and you’ll succeed it’ll end up okay but instead he doesn’t.

Losing Himlad almost destroys him. Later, he wishes it had.

Instead Curvo . . . loses himself completely. He does what he thinks he has to but he doesn’t know who’s good and who’s bad and he wants to apologize to Finrod but he also is glad he’s dead and gone because Nargothrond was important and he . . .

He doesn’t want to die the villain of this act but he does.

[aruthla]

Day 5 - Celebrimbor

Celebrimbor couldn’t sleep. The storm raging outside prevent him to sleep. The sound of thunder reminded him of the laugh of orcs who amused themselves by torturing its citizens while Anna-Sauron reveled in his pain. The rustle of the branches moving in the wind gave him the impression of hearing the whip that had slammed relentlessly on his back, before being replaced by tools much more horrible. But worst of all, he thought he heard the laughter of Sauron in the storm, whispering these cruel words:

“If you had listened to your instincts inherited of Fëanor, none of this would have happen, Little Curvo.”

"Little Curvo" was a nickname given to him by his grandfather when he forged his first collar that he proudly presented to his mother and she had worn every day, even after that he offered him better finishes and ornate.

But all this belonged to the past. His grandfather was a shadow of himself, hiding all in the Halls of Mandos, his uncles clung to each other to not  sink, but hardly accepting the help of others family members, although some did more easily than others, and his father ... Eru, his father! He never imagined that his words would have such consequences on his father. After he disowned his father, he had gone mad, which prompted him to commit the massacre of Doriath and perish. When he died in his turn and he had sufficiently recovered from his injuries, physical and psychological, he sought his father. It was the Lord Námo who told him that his father had been placed in a different wing, unable to heal, especially since he had seen his torture. From his stay in the Halls of Mandos, he fails to see his father. He had to wait 200 years before learning that his father was released and another 50 years before he can talk to him. Their discussion had involved a lot of tears and excuses. Of course, their relationship wasn’t returning to what it was, but gradually they would reconnect in a new one.

Curufin couldn’t sleep. The storm raging outside prevent him to sleep. The sound of thunder reminded him of the laugh of orcs who amused themselves by torturing his son while he screamed in pain, but never Celebrimbor begged them, ever. The cracking of the branches in the wind gave him the impression of hearing the hammer that had befallen on the members of his son, except on his hands (no, their fates were more ignoble). But worst of all, he thought he heard the laughter of Sauron in the storm, whispering those mocking words:

“Why don’t you call your father? Oh ! True, you denied him.”

These words had almost destroyed his fea when he heards them. He remembered the pain he felt when his son uttered his denial. He had felt a part of his soul had just been destroyed. The world didn’t seem to make sense, all reached him as a distant and distorted echo. He vaguely asked himself in his death if that had been what felt his father to the death of own. But he never got an answer to this question. The Lord Námo had explained to him and his brothers (with the exception of Maglor who was still in Middle-earth, even now), that something prevented their father to heal and that therefore he couldn’t be released of the Hall.

When he was allowed to return to the world of the living, his sweet Ilestelë awaited him with this so unique smile. During the time it took him to readjust, his wife never left his side. If he waking up with a scream the night after a nightmare in which he saw the torture of her son, tears sliding down his cheeks, Ilestelë would just take him in her arms. He knew 'Ilestelë was aware of what had happened to their son. She had asked him once to tell him in detail what had lived Celebrimbor, having seen some through their marriage bond, which wasn’t broken after his death. He refused. She hadn’t insisted, but he knew she will ask him another time and he won’t be able to say no again.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a loud thunder noise than others, and he vaguely felt the arms of his wife around his neck. He passed his around her waist and concentrated on the regular sound of beating heart of his wife.

- Better? Ilestelë asked, stroking the hair of her husband.

- Yes, thank you, he said, kissing his wife, whose cheeks took a pretty crimson hue like every time he showed her that kind of affection.

They stayed for a while and in the arms of the other, enjoying the presence of their half. Then Ilestelë broke away from Curufin and put on a robe.

- Will you pick Celebrimbor while I make hot chocolate in the kitchen?

With a smile, he accepted and put on shoes and a robe before heading to the room of his son while his wife went to the palace kitchens. Arriving at the door, he noticed a thin streak of light which passed under the doors. Carefully, he gave a few knocks on the door, hoping that his son wasn’t taken in a flashback, as happened to those who had been reincarnated. Getting no response, he opened the door and found his son sitting on his bed, a drawing notebook on his lap and sketches around him.

Curious, he approached the nearest piece of him and discovered the sketch of a necklace for his wife, because he had no doubt that the neck that was drawn was the one of Ilestelë. Picking up the drawings that were on the floor, he put the stack on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to his son who still hadn’t reacted to his presence.

- You should avoid emeralds. Their green reminds her of the banner of her family.

- Atto! Celebrimbor exclaimed, turning to his father, completely surprised.

- I knocked but you didn’t answer, so I allowed myself to enter, he says with an embarrassed smile.

- Oh ... sorry ... So no emeralds? Amme is still on bad terms with them?

- Yes to both. Although saying she’s on bad terms with her family is an understatement.

- What do you mean ? Asked Celebrimbor, who remembered the family of his mother as severe and very conservative people.

- They asked her several times to break our marriage, his father replied after a long pause.

- What?

- At the third, she slap her father.

- WHAT?!

A knock on the wall informed them that Celegorm appreciated only moderately the vocalizations exercises of his nephew in the middle of the night. With a laugh, Curufin got out of bed and went to get a shirt and a robe in the closet of his son. Yet struck by the news, Celebrimbor let his father dress him, recovering his spirits when his father began to put his shoes.

- What is this story ?! He exclaimed, rushing to put his own shoes.

- Let's go to the kitchen. We will be more at ease to discuss it.

- You really gave a slap to your father? Was the only warning that Ilestelë receive before getting caught in an embrace with her son.

- He had dared to order me to break my marriage with your father. I found a broken nose for daring to utter such order is small price to pay, she replied, returning the embrace of his son, who looked at her with stars in their eyes.

Depositing cups of chocolates on the table, she invited her husband and son to sit. Then she turned to the oven and take out biscuits, who let a delicious smell invaded the kitchen. Placing the basket between her two men, she had to make a big effort to not to laugh when they seized a cookie and began to eat them as a small rodent.

Taking advantage of her chocolate, Ilestelë watched her husband and son. Many said that Curufin was the spitting image of his father, and this was true, but it own eyes hesitating between blue and gray, while those of Fëanor was pure blue, and hair that wavy slightly, as his father was straight. For her son, she had often heard that kind of remark too, and she was quite okay. However, her husband stubbornly defended their son had inherited her blue eyes and her facial features, his hair from both them, black from her family and silver from Míriel.

- What are you think about, Ilestelë? Asked her husband, an arm around her waist, pulling her from her thoughts.

- Of you and Celebrimbor, she replied, kissing the cheek of her husband.

- Eurk!

Surprised, the family turned at the same to the door and saw Celegorm, a huge smile on his lips.

- I followed a good smell and now I fall on my favorite little brother flirting with his wife in the kitchen, leaving his son toplay gooseberry.

- Help, my uncle, exclaimed theatrically Celebrimbor under the reddening of his parents.

- I come running my dear nephew, replied Celegorm by sitting at the table and seizing a cookie, Damn, Ilestelë! Your pastries are still good.

- And that's why I also come to steal some, said Finrod, appearing in turn.

- Defer cousin, I was there before you, exclaimed Fingon dragged a not very awake Maedhros.

- I’m not stay long, don’t worry, replied the blonde taking a handful of biscuits in a bowl.

- It’s true that it would be stupid that your bed cools, whispered Celegorm.

- Who doesn’t appreciate a good warm bed, eh, Tyelko? Retorted his cousin, passing his hand on his neck, a mocking smile on his lips, and going away with a biscuit bowl.

- He got you on that one, said Maedhros, breaking the silence that had settled in the kitchen while everyone stared Celegorm with amusement, the latter having face red embracing and trying to hide his neck with his hair.

With a laugh, Ilestelë got up and took out a new batch of cookies, which attracted new people, enjoying the sound of laughter and discussions.

Last story for this year. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did. See you soon maybe !

[arianaofimladris]

English version of my contribution to Tolkien Secret Santa 2020, written for @meg-pond

The sins of fathers and sons

 Festivals and feasts at the royal palace were always a thrill for both adults and children, the latter finding each time something new and exciting. For Celegorm it was watching everything from a new perspective. At first he stayed with his older brothers, glad that he had been deemed old enough to sit with the grown-ups, but when the gathered elves dispersed in the halls and the gardens and his brothers disappeared somewhere with Fingon, he found himself being bored. So when Amme asked him to check if his younger brothers were not quarrelling, Celegorm used the pretext eagerly and left. Curufin and Caranthir had solemnly promised Nerdanel they would behave, but... Celegorm hoped he wouldn’t have to intervene. He wasn’t Maedhros to know how to deal with soothing ruffled feathers.

The festivities were also a wonderful opportunity for the younger participants to explore the palace gardens or usually unused chambers when the feast was becoming too long. It took a while before Celegorm located his younger brothers building a tower along with Angrod and Aegnor out of everything they could find, from twigs to empty plates. He didn’t really want to join them or startle them and thus ruin their work, and he was about to venture further to find perhaps Maglor, when he heard someone calling him.

“Tyelkormo, come help us!”

Turning around, Celegorm saw Finrod waving at him. He and Turgon were trying to carry a pile of boards, which was intriguing enough.

“What is it?”

“Grandfather has had the wainscot replaced before the feast in one of the halls,” explained Turgon. Unlike Feanor, Fingolfin and his family had come a few days earlier to grandfather Finwe. “These are no longer needed, but look how smooth they still are, they will be perfect,” he claimed excitedly and Finrod nodded in agreement. Seeing that Celegorm had no clue what they were talking about, they started explaining one over the other what idea they had for fun. The smooth boards, they said, should be great for sliding down one of the wide staircases in the palace. They had in mind using the one in the western wing leading to the gardens. It wasn’t frequently used at the moment and the stairs rose in a gentle flight that curved halfway up at a right angle and disappeared in a corridor on the next floor.

“Sound’s like a plan,” Celegorm grinned. He no longer needed to find his brothers to keep himself occupied. “Give me some.”

“Perhaps we can make a competition, if these boards work well,” suggested Finrod. “We have plenty of time.”

Sliding down the stairs was not something any of them had ever tried and the idea sounded appealing. The less appealing part was the fact that there were more tiny interested ears around to hear them.

“What competition?” Celegorm heard Angrod asking and wondered when he had joined them. Turning around, he saw that both his cousins and brothers had sneaked on them, their tower all but abandoned.

“Don’t you want to go check what Artaresto is doing?” Finrod asked weakly, clearly without holding too much hope that his younger brothers would leave, now that they knew what kind of play he and his cousins had in mind.

“Sure not!” puffed Aegnor. “He’s minding Nerwen.”

“We want to play too,” Curufin stated. “You can’t say we can’t.”

“Or what?” Turgon crooked his head as he teased the younger boy.

The ‘I will tell Atto’ hung unsaid in the air, but before any of them vocalised it, Finrod gave his brothers a board to carry. Curufin and Celegorm took the remaining two, while Caranthir trotted behind. Turgon and Finrod clearly had planned everything beforehand, for they led their cousins picking routes where no one could see them. The echo of the feast could still be heard through the open windows they sneaked past, but their way was clear. They found the staircase empty and waiting for them.

“Alright, let’s try them from here first,” suggested Turgon standing just a few steps above the ground floor. “We couldn’t check the balance earlier.”

While the older boys tried to stand on the boards and slide without falling, Aegnor and Caranthir grabbed one of the shorter boards and dragged it up as well. There was a short argument about who was going first, but in the end Caranthir kept the board in place while his cousin straddled it, then let him go. Aegnor slid down with a giggle, Caranthir running after him. They dragged the board up again and again, taking turns. Angrod and Curufin couldn’t really decide whether it was better to slide down sitting or standing, so they were switching from one style to the other, while the older focused on the latter. It took some practicing and quite a lot of hasty jumping off the board was involved before Turgon, Finrod and Celegorm mastered balancing during the slide enough to feel confident enough to drag the boards higher.

“I want too, Ingoldo,” Aegnor called after his brother.

“Oh, we can slide together I guess,” Finrod offered after a moment of hesitation. “I will hold you.”

Celegorm finished his slide and looked up just in time to see Curufin dragging a board up after Finrod and sighed inwardly. He hated being the adult one.

"You are not doing this alone." He ran up, taking two steps at a time.

"I'm hardly younger than them!" Curufin protested and waved at Finrod and Turgon. “And I know how.”

"You are younger. You can slide alone from the tenth step. That's-"

At a startled cry above, Celegorm turned from Curufin, but it was already too late. He could only watch as Finrod lost balance and suddenly the board escaped from under his feet. The boy sat abruptly with a grunted "ouf!", but the momentum dragged him and he slid down after the board still carrying the now screaming Aegnor. The younger boy swept Caranthir on his way and they both tumbled down, falling to the sides at the bottom of the stairs.

For a moment there was a startled silence. Finrod, blinking in surprise, sat on the last step where he had finished the slide, with Aegnor sprawled at his feet.

Leaving the cousins to take care of one another, Celegorm rushed to his brother, who laid unmoving, glued to the marble floor. When touched, Caranthir jerked and looked up, his mouth and chin covered with blood. And then the crying started.

Celegorm picked his brother, feeling utterly helpless. He was never as good as Maedhros or Maglor in comforting his younger brothers and now, between the hysterical sobbing, he couldn’t even get a proper look at his face, as Caranthir wouldn’t even let him touch him.

Aegnor sat up, blinked at his brother, hiccupped and flooded in tears. Turgon ran down to help his cousins, with Curufin and Angrod watching the whole scene in alarm from the middle of the staircase.

“Don’t just stand like that! Bring Atto!”

“Which one?” Angrod glanced at Finrod, who scrambled on his feet and was trying to soothe his crying brother.

“Whichever,” snapped Celegorm over Caranthir’s head. “Just be quick.”

 Meanwhile, in one of the smaller chambers prepared for the festivities, Feanor, Fingolfin and Finarfin were deeply involved in a discussion regarding the necessary changes in the royal palace that would improve the functionality regarding the growing needs of their growing family. When gathered together in times like this, they would often stay for days and their father’s palace was getting crowded. Since they already had Finwe's approval and some of the works were already taking place, the brothers found themselves a relatively safe topic.

Fingolfin wished to use opportunity to force some changes he had had in mind, while Feanor brought forth new ideas about the lightning. Finarfin backed their plans with structural design details and what was at first a leisure chat about the possible ideas, the three brothers quickly turned into a vivid discussion with sketches made on the nearest available sheet of paper, with splashes of wine here and there as one of them tipped a goblet. There were healthy proportions of fun and arguing as the ideas kept evolving, but before the brothers could talk about the possible rearranging of the palace gardens, they were quite abruptly interrupted by a pit-a-pat of tiny feet and then bombarded with a chaos of explanations provided by Curufin and Angrod, both too agitated to be making much sense. There wasn’t much point in trying to make them slow down and explain what was amiss, so the fathers just followed their sons. Fingolfin joined them as well, as his own offspring was likely involved too.

 The boys did well and instead of bringing one, they brought all three fathers. Celegorm would have thought it amusing, for it wasn’t everyday one could see the three High Princes going in such an agreeable haste, had his brother not smeared the blood running from his nose all over his cheeks when he had tried to cover his face. And had he not been crying so hysterically.

“What happened here?” Feanor glanced at the children, then at the board by Finrod’s feet and looked like he fought an urge to roll his eyes.

“It was an accident!” Finrod and Celegorm both rushed to reassure them.

“I’m sure it was.” The eldest son of Finwe nodded distractedly and knelt by Caranthir. He firmly took his hands away from his face and first of all made sure the nose wasn’t broken, then gently wiped the blood from the cut lip with his finger.

”It is alright, Moryo, just lean forwards and let it pass,” he instructed calmly and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Carnistir sniffed and glared, then, seeing his father still kneeling at his level, wrapped his thin arms around his neck and did as he was told, burying his face in his collar. With a sigh, Feanor picked him and stood up.

“Here, it’s cold,” Fingolfin came closer and passed him his goblet, now almost empty. Feanor nodded in thanks and forced his son to let go of his collar. Once he could see Caranthir’s face again, still red, though some of the blood had been smeared on his robes, he gently pressed the cool metal to the tender nose.

The boy yelped and tried to escape, balancing on his father’s hip.

“Be still, Moryo, it will help.”

"Whose brilliant idea was this?" asked Finarfin once he too made sure Aegnor needed mostly wiping tears and washing his scraped palms.

Finrod and Turgon glanced at each other, but stayed silent.

“We really didn’t mean that...” Celegorm tried to support his cousins.

"And you didn't know better than to stop this foolishness before someone got hurt?" Fingolfin asked, turning towards Celegorm, the eldest among all the children present.

Celegorm looked offended. "I didn't let Moryo or Curvo go all the way down on their own!" he exclaimed and Curufin's annoyed huff backed him up.

"But it was perfectly alright to let the other youngest go."

"Leave it, Nolofinwe," Feanor cut him off with a hint of annoyance, rocking Caranthir in his arms. "My son is not a handler of your offspring."

“I don’t need handling,” muttered Turgon under his breath before Finrod stepped on his foot.

“We are still waiting for an explanation,” Finarfin reminded them sternly. “How did you come up with such a foolish idea to let your younger brothers participate in your hazardous and foolish antics?”

“We didn’t!” objected Finrod weakly. “We went together, only it didn’t work...” he trailed off and winced. Aegnor nodded and looked at his hands, sniffling.

“Did you hurt yourself as well?” Finarfin turned towards his eldest.

“No, no,” Finrod reassured him and wiped his trousers. “I’m fine, Atto.”

Finarfin wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t comment. The children still were not too eager to enlighten their fathers as to what exactly had happened that had resulted in a quite unexpected landing, but any further inquiries were interrupted by Lalwende who came in from the gardens. She stopped at the doorstep, quite surprised to see the whole gathering.

“Why are you occupying the corrid-“ she noticed the boards and grinned. “Oh, so you’re here already.”

“Irime, you’re not helping,” Fingolfin sighed ostensibly.

“Don’t intend to when you’re having fun without me,” Lalwende’s melodious laughter echoed on the corridor as she regarded her brothers and nephews critically. “As far as I can see, everyone’s more or less in one piece. And don’t tell me you forgot how much fun that was.”

Celegorm had hard time trying not to snicker. His father looked a bit like Maedhros, whenever he tried to act like an adult towards his younger brothers and failed. Feanor was doing only marginally better.

And it was all the boys needed.

”Atto, does it mean you too...?” Turgon bolted a question just as Finarfin had to deal with three pairs of curious eyes looking at him expectantly. Caranthir was still sulking, but Celegorm and Curufin were too interested in hearing a story that would not involve them giving any explanations.

“Leave me out of it,” Feanor huffed at his sister.

“Oh come now, you did play too!” Lalwende objected. She was clearly having too much fun at her brothers’ expense. “If only to make sure we wouldn’t mess up.”

“That was not the point,” Finarfin cut them off. “Whoever came up with this idea, I believe you all can draw conclusions for yourselves,” he looked sternly at both his sons and nephews.

“And I think you have some mess to clean.” Fingolfin added and pointed at the disregarded boards. It seemed, though nobody said anything, that they all assumed the eldest boys were responsible for the whole idea.

“Oh...”

“Want Amme,” muttered Caranthir over the hesitant objections. His voice was still thick and he was unusually clingy.

“Yes, I think that was enough excitement for today,” agreed Feanor and passed the goblet back to Fingolfin “Let’s get you cleaned before Amme sees you and then,” he looked pointedly at his brothers, “perhaps we can finish. Curvo, you are going with me too.”

“But-“

“No ‘buts’.”

Beside them, Finarfin was having the same argument with Angrod and Aegnor, who were clearly unwilling to leave. Neither of the fathers surrendered and the youngest offspring of the House of Finwe was promptly taken away.

Not fast enough, however, not to hear Lalwende who stayed behind.

“Alright, before we clean all that. Want to see how it’s done?”

[legolasgoldy]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

repost, don’t reblog

BASICS.

full name. Finrod Ingoldo Felagund  ( Findaráto Artafinde Ingoldo Arafinwean; Finrod is the Sindarin translation of Findarato that he uses instead once in middle earth)

pronunciation. Fin-rod In-gol-doe Fell-ah-gund

nickname(s). Findo, his Favorite being ‘ Fin ‘ spoken by few very close friends and lovers. other nicknames being things like ‘ wolfy’ said by friends or lovers. Highly depends on person. ( Finda, Findo, Ingo ( which he doesnt really like), Nóm, Nómin, Felagund, Edennil, Atandil )

gender. Cisgendered Male 

height. 6′1, also depends on age

age. Verse dependent, teens to 20s sometimes 30s

zodiac. Taurus, April 23rd

spoken languages. English, decently fluent in french and spanish. A little Gaelic when dating his boyfriend Rhys Brennan. ( Obviously in Tolkien aus he speaks Elvish which includes Telerin, Noldorin, Sindarin, etc, Early dwarven tongues like Khuzdul, common/westron, pretty much anything he can learn even the language of the enemy. He however does not know the change in certain languages or new languages that occurs over the ages hes dead. Not until Galadriel, Gimli, and/or one of the hobbits tell him.)

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair color. Golden blonde

eye color. Emerald green

skin tone. Not pale but fair with a semi neutral and slightly peachy undertone.

body type. Tall and toned. He is muscular but not super buff depending on what you consider to be buff. Body claim pics are in his pages. Hes very soft yet firm, strong, and warm for cuddling.

accent.  A mix between american and european english. He was born and raised in Maine until 7 years old then they moved to lower states. His parents have heavy english accents, which he acquired as a small child, and as he grew older it developed into a soft neutral-ish american accent with english attributes. For example, he will say eye-ther instead of ee-ther for Either. Sometimes he’ll also catch himself saying Tom-AH-toes instead of Tom-Aye-toes.

voice. Very kind, gentle, medium deepness of a tone. He doesnt sound excessively deep but not high pitched either, its a very cozy warm mid-way deepness that’ll make you feel safe and soothed. However, it can get a deeper when angry or..during intimate activities.

dominant hand. He is Ambidextrous 

posture. somewhere between casual and proper

scars: A few random small scars from childhood, after his mutation kicked in he can no longer get scarring which is fortunate considering the amount of times hes bitten completely through his tongue or lips with his fangs when he first got his mutation. Not to mention times hes been hurt in the future. ( depends on time period, sometimes none at all but others he can have scarring from fighting, any type of misc scar, but not an over abundance of them where you can see.)

tattoos. None, his skin wont hold tattoos after his mutation. 

birthmarks. None

most noticeable feature(s). hair, eyes, and fangs. ( Hair, eyes, jewelry.)

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. Maine, US. ( Tirion in Valinor )

hometown. On the coast of Maine; i havent decided a city/town.

birth weight. 6.9lbs (3.1kg)

birth height. 18.6 lbs (47.2cm)

first words. Mommy or Daddy. ( Amme or Atya)

siblings. Twin brothers Aegnor and Angrod, and little sister Galadriel. ( Twin brothers Ambaráto Aikanáro Arafinwean, Angaráto Arafinwean, and little sister Artanis Nerwen Arafinwean; translated into Sindarin their names are Aegnor and Angrod. Artanis chooses the name Galadriel for herself and does not use her birth names)

parents. Finarfin and Earwen Felagund. ( Arafinwë Ingoldo Finwean and Eärwen Olwean)

parental involvement. Finrod’s parents are both Aquatic Biologists, so he often spent time with them at work as a child. Whether that was near fresh water or salt water, if it was safe for him to go he went. They have always been very close and supportive to each other.  ( His parents have always been supportive of him and they have always been very close. They would live in either Tirion or Alqualondë during different seasons so Finrod and his siblings could grow to be apart of both cultures.)

ADULT LIFE.

occupation. Verse and timeline dependent. Generally, Finrod works in a greenhouse & landscaping company. Later on he’ll may get a job as a music teacher. In the rockstar branch of the x-men au he is just that, a Rockstar. ( He is a prince of the Noldor and Teleri. Later he is the King of Nargothrond.)

close friends / family.  Yes. Who that is, is very much Thread and verse dependent. 

relationship status. In a long term relationship with his boyfriend Rhys Brennan. ( Unofficially married to Makalaurë Kanafinwë Feanorian. Can be verse dependent.)

financial status. His parents had to make a lot of money to support four kids, so it was comfortable enough. However when he moves out he begins making his own money, and he isnt rich by any means but happy with where hes at. ( Timeline dependent, but usually very wealthy.)

driver’s license. Yes, hes a very good driver.

criminal record. None. 

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. Not really sure, but most likely something along the lines of ‘ I want to know what love is’ by Foreigner ( The song he sang to Sauron)

hobbies to pass time. Singing, playing instruments, Reading, Spending time with his family and friends.

mental illnesses. Not that he knows of ( PTSD, depression.)

physical illnesses. None, as a healing mutant he is unable to get illnesses. ( No illnesses but he does have pain caused by PTSD ranging from light to severe. The pain mostly occurs in his hands and feet, but radiates throughout depending how strong the attack lasts. At times it may only be a very mild ache, and others debilitating paired with mental state. The last being less common and can be accompanied by sleep paralysis and/or night terrors)

left or right-brained. Right-brained

self-confidence level. Depends on time period but normally pretty high? Hes very confident in himself aside from when he started mutating and ran away from home, his confidence was pretty low then. Its usually when hes under personal distress due to someone he cares about being hurt in some way that his confidence dips down. Highly depends on scenario though. ( Pretty high aside from times of extreme distress and depression. e.i. 1. After the first Kin Slaying. 2.Traveling through the helcaraxë he had to force it high because he couldnt lose confidence in a time like that, so it was simultaneously low and high at the same time. 3. After he lost his brothers and many of his family.)

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. Demisexual + Bisexual 

romantic orientation. Biromantic

preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch

preferred sexual role. submissive | dominant | switch which ever he and his partner prefer hes more than happy with

libido. When single and has no one hes attracted to, virtually non existent. Sure, the need arises every now and then, but the want not so much. When in love its endless if his partner wants it too.

turn on’s. Seeing his partner smile. Especially if its a very wide unadulterated happy smile, even more so if the smile is towards him. Watching his partner walk and/or bend over. He loves being teased, whether its a sultry look, pose, touch, kiss, or words. His partner sitting in his lap. Watching his partner just be beautiful, which can be as simple as them sitting in the sun content or just quietly enjoying themselves in some way. Anything sensual. Getting lost in a happy moment together.

turn off’s. His partner not being in the mood bc he doesnt want to if his partner doesnt, excessively disgusting dirty talk, his partner being upset or hurt, purposeful pain.

love language. Sensuality. Frequent touches, quality time together and doing special things that they consider ‘ their thing’, talking and listening, supporting each others hobbies and dreams, and helping each other with every day domestic activities.

relationship tendencies. Finrod is drawn to unique people even though he doesnt necessarily realize he is at the time. Something will grab his interest and he’ll try to get to know them, it all goes from there. Since he is a creative individual hes just naturally drawn to other creative people whether they use their creativity in the same way or not. The people he has fallen for have all been unique, talented, and inspiring even if they dont know it or downright deny it. They all have a depth to them and they may have a darkness inside them but he loves them, and who they are, darkness and all. He sees so much light and love in his partners. As far as physical type, it doesnt really matter much but hes very taken by pretty hair, eyes, and smiles. 

Tagged By: @blind-mutant ty! <3 @

Tagging: @mikhailvalhidris, @driftinglightofthewoods, @truesanguinesoul, @admirable-mairon, @bouncingbeleg, @first-son-of-finwe And anyone i missed or who wants too!! :D

[arianaofimladris]

Re-forged

Just a tiny little something about the name under which Nelyafinwe Maitimo was known in Middle-Earth. it’s set a few months after my story “Reconciliation”, but can be read separately.

Re-forged

It started with whispers and remarks during their first visit when they wished to renew the contacts and introduce The High King of Noldor to the Sindar living nearby. The Winter passed and great preparations were being made with the first signs of Spring. Turgon had managed to make first plans for his city on the shore and the Noldor princes needed their own places in this new world, for despite being in good terms it was plain they could not all stay by the lake Mithrim.

What Finrod and Turgon started the last Autumn, Fingolfin intended to continue, as they still needed more goods than they were able to produce without having their own resources; their mines on the hills were just being built.

It seemed the Noldor were very interesting to the local elves. Already some of them wished to join Turgon in building the new city. The elves from Aman possessed huge knowledge and they were willing to share it, while the Sindar knew the land and how to best exploit it, so both groups wished to maintain contacts.

And so it came that Noldor and Sindar met to celebrate the coming of Spring with wine and songs. Maglor and Finrod sang of Yavanna’s creations, party translating the words, partly leaving the music to speak for itself. The hosts joined them.

And so in these songs sung till late night the eldest son of Feanor appeared as well. The Noldor looked at each other in astonishment, surprised that the news about the elf rescued from the Enemy had spread so far already. Many Sindar almost worshiped him and they could not comprehend why Fingolfin was their king and not him. The whole situation turned awkward at some point, but they understood the explanation that Fingolfin was the eldest descendant of Finwe.

“Have you noticed? To them, you are not Nelyafinwe Maitimo.” Maglor sat by his brother, free for a moment from Finrod’s company; they had been presenting their songs to the hosts for the most part of the evening. “Maedhros, that’s how they sing about you,” he sang melodiously.

“I like it,” stated the elder of the brothers, gazing lazily at the feast. “Maedhros... Perhaps I could even use it...”

“Maitimo...” Cheeriness disappeared from Maglor’s voice at once.

“And you?” Maedhros leaned suddenly and stared at his brother insistently. “Would you have kept your name, Makalaure, had you been stripped of your voice? I don’t want Amme’s name turn into mockery. And this,” he shook his maimed arm. “This is neither beautiful nor well-shaped. It’s an aberration. Necessary to save me, I know,” he added emotionlessly, as if he had been telling that himself many times before.

“Maidros...” muttered Maglor in Quenya. “It would suit you,” he claimed suddenly with interest, as if he was already making up verses in his head. “You... you probably don’t realise how much your fёa burns when you’re struggling with stronger emotions. They called our father the Spirit of Fire, but when I look at you... It’s no longer just the Trees...” he stopped, lost in thoughts.

“Not Maidros.” His brother corrected him and switched to Sindarin. “Maedhros. Don’t look at me like that, Kano. They do not call me that to mock me, but to show respect. These are new lands and new allies. And I,” he snorted mockingly. “I no longer am Maitimo. Do not delude yourself I could be. Everything that happened formed...” he stopped and stared with unseeing eyes at the fires around, at the passing silhouettes that threw long shadows on the nearby walls.

“Nelyo?” Maglor moved closer, worried with his brother’s stillness.

“They are right,” repeated Maedhros forcefully and his fёa shone brightly. “All of this re-forged me. Let’s just hope it’s for the better.”

 I’ve read several notes concerning etymology of Maedhros’s names and in one I found info that while Maedhros is sindarinized version coming from Maitimo and Russandol, in one of the earlier versions Maidros was quenya name meaning „Pale glitter”. I took he liberty of playing a bit with that.

If you liked it, please feed my muse with a few words. If you didn’t, tell me as well, please.

I can be found in here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13728300

[legolasgoldy]

♈️♌️♒️?? :D

// Thank you so much!! :D @justadutchperson

Ask My Muse Questions!                        

♈️: What is the one thing that makes you feel safe?

“ One thing?” Finrod mused, a fond smile tugging at his lips, “I believe such things grow in number with time. As a child the safest place to be was in my parents arms and it still brings me comfort to this day. As I grew older and things changed with time, having my siblings at arms reach was a coveted comfort. To know they were safe was my security. I do not know that I myself felt safe, but my safety was not my concern then.” he sighed at a troubling memory that quickly fled as more pleasant things came to mind, “I would say, one thing that has forever remained my great comfort is being in my beloved Makalaure’s arms. When he holds me the world seems good again, I feel utterly safe, and that I will never be cold again.”

♌️: What is your favourite season? Why?

“ All seasons have their wonders, but I believe spring resonates with me most of all. I was born in the spring and Amme always told me stories of then. I suppose that is one of the reasons I hold it so dear. There is so much life being brought into the world in spring, and to watch things grow have always amazed me.”

♒️: What would your ideal place to live be?

“ I have always had two homes. In Tirion and by the sea in Alqualonde. Things may be more complicated now but I could never bring myself to choose. My ideal place to live would be a bit of both, somewhere near the forest and fields of flowers though close enough to the sea that I can travel to visit it.”

[legolasgoldy]

9, 11 (OMG, that's an awesome list of questions!)😊

// IKR!! The best questions XD @justadutchperson okay im gonna add in question 10 too because i misread the list and had thought 10 was 11 and I already had an answer for 10 so i’ll do both XD//

Ask My Muse About Death

Send my muse one or a few of these questions (all of them related to death, and life after death)

9. If you are immortal, do you ever wish you were mortal instead?

 Whew thats one doozy of a question XD He would never wish that he had been born mortal instead thats for sure because he loves who he is, he loves his family and culture. BUT I dont think thats what the question is asking. Since these are death oriented questions i’ll go more along those lines @.@

I think this depends on certain points of his life. Long before he ever discovered mortal men, he and all the elves still knew of mortal creatures, such as animals of valinor. They arent a stranger to death/grief in that aspect, they themselves outgrow their horses and pets, etc. Elves in theory are supposed to live and thrive throughout ages, or at least that is how Finrod saw the world at a young age. Death never crossed his mind, he knew he had all the time in the world to discover everything.

However, as he grew older and things happened, those young ideas of how things should be began to go away. People began dying and bad things began to happen. During times such as the helcaraxe.. elves didnt seem so different from mortal creatures. Every day he woke up to find another person faded and went to mandos because the elements were too much for them, he felt this way. All beings die, and their souls may not, but all of their bodies do, regardless of immortal or mortal. That being said, after experiencing these things he does not have to wish to be mortal..he feels the darkness of death upon him anyway.

To him, death is both a gift and a curse, which all beings experience.

10. Name one (or a few) people in your life whose death would ruin you.

Well im gonna list a few because i dont wanna just state obvious which is Maglor/Makalaure. It would ruin him completely. Utterly destroy him. He would not be able to function, he’d just become so hollow..a shell of the faithful Finrod he used to be. He would be in very real danger of fading himself, the only thing that would keep him from it is his family. They would work hard to get him back upon his feet, and remind him that Makalaure will be in Mandos waiting on him when the time is right to go, and right now was not the right time. That would give him a teeny bit of faith back.

Since several of his loved ones die in the book I wont go into depth about those.. Losing his brothers, cousins and uncles were beyond hard for him. It took a lot of coping. His siblings were the worst to lose for him.

However what would be even worse is if he lost his parents. That would absolutely ruin him. Not in quite the same way as he would be if Maglor died, but not in terms of greater or lesser grief. Just different circumstances. He would be broken up, feel like a child again and just want his Amme and Atya back. Finrod wouldnt be able to function then either, but he would force himself to. In this situation he’d have his siblings to take care of and comfort T~T. He wouldnt be able to give into grief aside from in private because he has to be the strong big brother.

11. Who do you think would miss you most if you were gone?

Definitely his parents, his siblings, Maglor, and Turgon. Those are who have always been closest to him, though he is very close to others as well, these are ones who hold him most dear and would have must more trouble coping with Finrod’s absence.  ;~;

[legolasgoldy]

"Tell me about your first song. The first one you wrote, Findo."

// Thank you!! omg this was sO CUTE XD @minstrelmaglor //

“Tell me about your first ___” finish in my ask!        

Finrod paused at the question, laying there on the blanket they had spread across the grass at their secret spot near the river, his head rested on another blanket bunched up as a make shift pillow. A blush graced his cheeks as he thought, absently rubbing his thumb on the back of Maglor’s hand, “ I was so young then...” the look across his features was almost bashful. “ My first written music was of the beauty of Valinor.. but that was after I had learned to play. Before I was old enough to understand sheet music my mother would sing to me while she tended to her flower garden, and i had began to realize how much I loved music by hearing those around me as I got older. So one day while mother and I were in the garden I took it upon myself to sing a song of my own to what i saw.. Amme loved it and helped me write it down afterward...” Findo tried to contain his smile as he thought of the words. They were silly but a fond memory of his childhood that he cherished. With a soft inhale of breath, he began softly singing out the lyrics in a childish melody in attempts to mimic how he had sang all those years ago.

“Daisies are pretty,

Bees are witty,

They follow me round,

for the flowers on my crown,

Buzzing and soaring through the air,

without a single care,

Aside from making honey.

--

Sweet sticky honey golden and hidden,

In hives and combs where the bees are bidden,

To obey the queen, royal is she.

I am very glad they share their honey with me.”