#Finwëans

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

for real who is haunting the narrative more than míriel. the tengwar and the silmarils and a whole dynasty created because fëanor was maybe the only elf in aman to understand impermanence and loss enough to fear them. the noldorin crown passed on because finwë chose to spare his son another abandonment and died for it. gondolin and nargothrond and nevrast and lindon and hithlum established as realms and the silmaril coming back to valinor because indis had children with a widower. just something about míriel simultaneously being present everywhere in the story and also watching and recording it from outside unnoticed and without the power to ever intervene

[i-did-not-mean-to]

A keychange

A good deal too late, but nonetheless...@tolkienremix

Here is my fic for the Tolkien Remix 2023...

A keychange

Words: 4 474

Characters: The Valar, The Finwëan widows, daughters, and sisters, the Finwëans...

Warnings: It takes places in Mandos...sadness, trauma, reference to past crimes

It's a Remix of SpaceWall's The Second Rebellion of the Noldor which is truly beautiful, touching, and incredibly interesting story!

I can only warmly recommend it to everyone!

My own humble remix offers a different point of view on the same story.

It has been kindly beta-ed by @cilil.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

I sometimes think about Fingolfin being the sole Uncle looking after all his nephews/niece/kids. Like, there’s 16 children. Before taking the Helcaraxë he no doubt promised Finarfin that he would take care of them. And I feel like once he found out about Fëanor, and especially saw the state of Maedhros, he silently promised his half brother he’d do his best to look after them too. Not that he wasn’t going to anyway.

But the burden that must have been, especially with how volatile and independant all these kids are. Oh they might be grown. But he’ll never see them as such. Even now he remembers Nelyo’s birth and how the baby would toddle after him, crying when it was time to leave. Curvo going through all his mechanical devices, Turukano right behind him as Fingolfin explained where each came from and listened to the children tell him all about the workings. Carnistir carefully running little hands over the embroidery of his cloak, Anairë laughing quietly and explaining the techniques that went into it. Ambarussa and all the chaos they caused, enough so that Fëanor and Nerdanel would dump them at his house for days at a time, usually a couple of brothers tagging along. Tyelko and Irissë wrestling in the mud, neither group of parents knowing what to do when they trudged in, a sticky trail behind them.

Findekáno’s duets with Makalaurë, the little musician quietly asking to play before his uncle and cousin to make sure it was perfect before he showed his father. Finno, Nelyo, and Findarato encouraging him with whoops, Fingolfin and Anairë applauding with wide smiles at the end as he was swarmed by his cousins and brother. The four’s ‘secret’ sleepovers whenever they were in the same place. Aikanaro and Angamaitë raiding his kitchens, Fingolfin joining in with a finger on his lips, helping steal pastries in the middle of the night. Artanis insisting she could join in whatever game his boys were playing, Ireth backing her with a scowl until they were let in. Little Orodreth and his own Arakano, friends since birth. The screams of delight whenever they saw each other.

Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, he doesn’t know. All of them are now his children. He couldn’t stop the Fëanorions from taking the most dangerous lands because he had no argument to give. He can’t stop Turno and Ingo from making hidden kingdoms and taking Ireth and Artaresto with them. He couldn’t save little Arakano. He can’t stop Artanis hiding in Doriath, although he’s grateful at least one of his kids is safe… even if that safety comes with disowning the rest of her family.

He can’t even protect little Tyelpë and Itarillë who never asked for any of this.

So when the Dagor Bragollach comes and he hears Aegnor and Angrod are definitely dead, Curufin, Celegorm, and Celebrimbor might as well be for the trail of bodies leading to Doriath and the mass murder at the Girdle, Maglor’s land has been burned so far beyond recognition, they can’t even *find* bodies, Turgon, Idril, and Aredhel he wouldn’t even know if they were killed, and he hasn’t heard from Finrod in months-

He can’t.

So he makes a last ditch attempt because maybe, just maybe, he can make their battle the slightest bit easier. Give his kids if any of them survive a weakness to exploit. A slight advantage to turn the tables…

A stab to the foot does the trick. Morgoth will be limping on that one for millennia.

He hopes his brothers can forgive him.

[vorbarrsultana]

another headcanon: finrod and fingon became truly close friends in helcaraxë. they spent a lot of time together because someone had to step up and be fingolfin's right and left hands. (fingolfin is sure he would have gone mad without them. fingon and finrod are sure they would have gone mad without each other.)

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

The most vexing gift

Characters: Fëanor, Fingolfin, Maglor, Maedhros

Themes: Soft

Warnings: None

Word count: 500+ words

Summary: Fingolfin presents Maglor with a gift on his begetting day.

A/n: This was inspired by @batsyforyou baby Maglor post

Minors DNI

Fëanor studied the strange box in his half-brother's hands with apprehension. "Pray what have you there, brother mine?"

"Tis a gift for Káno, brother." Fingolfin was all innocence, but the light flashing in his eyes gave rise to further suspicions. Fëanor believed this gift—whatever it was—was more than just a mere gift. "It is his begetting day, after all."

"Very well," came the reply. Fëanor did not wish to argue during his second son's begetting day. He comported himself with as much dignity as he could muster, and he moved to the side to allow his half-brother to meet his young son. "Come here, little one. Your uncle has come calling."

Maglor babbled merrily and ran as fast as his little feet could carry him. His laughter rattled around the receiving room as soon as he set his eyes on his father.

"Atar!" He cried, and then he turned to face his uncle. Maglor watched with eager eyes while Fingolfin dipped to his haunches and held out the box for his nephew to take.

"For your begetting day," Fingolfin cooed and looked on with growing amusement while his nephew fussed with the ribbon. He reached out and loosened the strips of silk himself when Maglor gave up and huffed in frustration. "I hope you like it."

A whoop of delight followed. Maglor pulled out a shiny, beaten gold drum and held it in his hands. He rewarded his uncle with a lopsided grin and made himself comfortable on the cool marble floor. A loud, shrill womp sound followed when he banged his fist onto the drum skin. Maglor laughed like it was the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. He banged his fist on the drum skin again. A second womp followed, and another, and another. Maglor looked at his uncle and babbled incoherently. Then he clutched the little drum to his chest and rose to his feet. Fëanor observed this all unfold before him, and with growing alarm. His second son adored anything that made noise, and this drum made ample noise. Maglor would be relentless in playing with his new toy, and at all hours too. They would know neither silence nor peace until he tired of it. Fëanor turned to face his brother, his eyes narrowed to thin slats.

"Of all the gifts," he began in a hushed whisper, "why this?"

"Like I said," answered Fingolfin, "it is merely a gift. One I am certain Káno would love."

A round of loud womp-womp-womps and more laughter followed. This time it came from the library. Maedhros was then heard encouraging his little brother to play even more. Fëanor nearly howled.

Fingolfin must be vexed over what I said about him during the last feast, he thought to himself. Yes. That must be the cause of this gift.

More shrill sounds were heard. And then Maglor began to sing. It was high-pitched and garbled, and it was very much the singing of a small child. Maedhros' cheers encouraged him.

"Ah, the joys of childhood." His half-brother continued. The smile that followed was both triumphant and vicious. "I must leave. Farewell, brother mine."

[waitingforsecretsouls]

While the primary view of Maedhros fathername seems to be that it's a dig at Fingolfin, this ignores how the succession is very much not in question until the Valar get involved to banish the heir and the current king goes with him into exile (not to mention that it's exactly this position of Fëanor's which motivates Fingolfin's side of the jealousy). It's not spite to name Maedhros after his legitimate place in the succession. What's more, I find it very likely that, like Fëanor, his fathername might have initially been simply Finwë-the same as Finwë and Fëanor's own fathername ere it was modified later, making "Finwë third" an explicit acknowledgment of the threadline between Finwë, Fëanor and Maedhros that often gets reserved for the Fëanor-Curufin-Celebrimbor triumvirate-and only later changed to Nelyafinwë. But regardless it's still primary a connection to Fëanor's initial fathername and Finwë's name and the commonality between them (the line of succession as well as, I dare say, love and respect).

[unremarkablelunacy]

Reblog to bonk a Fëanorian over the head with a hammer

me: i really like celegorm. i think he's a really interesting character and i enjoy rotating him in my mind like a particularly ill tempered pigeon

also me whenever i see luthien content: get his ass. steal his dog. bonk him over the head with a hammer. no rights.

[sunnyshinesunshine]

Instead of Elrond looking like some vague Finwëan-Sindar combo

Elrond looks a little different to everyone that sees him

His face doesn’t change. He is still very much Elrond Peredhel, but his features will always remind whoever sees him of some form of a regret.

He supposes it is a combination of being a healer and the descendent of Maia but he tries not to dwell too hard on it.

(It is very uncomfortable to be the image of the deepest wounds of another’s heart)

Nonetheless, it is difficult to heal one’s own soul without facing the reasons for its damage.

Elros Tar-Minyatur was the only one to ever look at Elrond and see only Elrond.

If this was because his blood matched Elrond’s, or because Elrond was Elros’ deepest regret, Elrond doesn’t particularly want to know

Maedhros, utterly predictably, saw Fingon, and in doing so, found both comfort and misery.

Occasionally he would see in Elrond the ghosts of all his brothers, and he would again face the knowledge that he was not able to save them from their doom and the dark void.

Maglor sees Maedhros, and feels regret, not for the violence or the death, but for days in far off Valinor, under the light of the Trees. Days of running off with friends, to sing, to compose, to preform for adoring fans, to do anything but stay at home and help Maitimo take care of their small army of younger siblings.

(Maybe then the title of eldest brother would weigh less heavy on Mae’s shoulders. Maybe then the responsibility of care for them all would not have driven him so far, and to such a bitter end.)

If Glorfindel is to be asked, he’d tell you Elrond appears to him as the spitting image of Turgon

If you are Erestor, you know Glorfindel mostly sees Maeglin, Maeglin young and quiet, Maeglin older and scared, but sometimes also Aredhel, defiant and ready to disappear into the woods without a sound

Elwing once looked upon her son and saw naught but the visage of her little brothers

Galadriel sees Finrod, as does Celebrimbor, for very different reasons, but mostly because they share the same kind of kindness, and there is little that marks a person better than that

In quieter moments Galadriel will glimpse what her husband sees, Lúthien, as she was after Beren died, solemn, trapped, and entombed in misery.

During Bilbo’s final years, he can’t quite remember what he first thought upon looking on Elrond’s face (he’s sure it’s written down somewhere) but in those last days, he sometimes sees Frodo, wary and so very afraid. But mostly Elrond resembles Thorin and that is something Bilbo shall never set to paper

(Someday, in a time far beyond the counting of years, Fëanor will find himself staring at the face of his grandchild and seeing the eyes of Míriel Þerindë above the features Indis and will have a very small, very quiet meltdown.

[tolkien-povs]

Things the Finwëans have definitely said about other Finwëans, PT 1:

Angrod: Caranthir? More like "Crack-anthir".

Fingolfin: Curufinwë isn't even salty at this point. He's just upgraded to "ocean cocaine" now, which probably isn't something I should be joking about because he'd invent it.

Finarfin, seeing Finrod as a newborn fresh from the womb: My Eru, he clearly doesn't have my genes!

Finrod: You see, Tyelkormo is a nice person at heart. You just have to... force yourself to see the good in him. Like, just peel the layers of his heart until you're left with nothing.

Celegorm: Arkáno? Who's he, some spawn of Uncle Nolofinwë?

Aredhel: Oh, Artanis? Well, yeah, when you see her, she's all about fire and swords and stuff, but really, she's about fire and sparkly dresses.

Turgon: Circles? I love circles, especially circle theorems! ...Oh, we're talking about family trees?

Fëanáro: Irissë is the daughter I never had. And no, I did not kidnap her when she was a child, despite everything her father may say.

Caranthir: Last night, I dreamt that Artarestro had me arrested for tax-evasion, which is funny because I never pay taxes.

Galadriel: When I found out that Kanafinwe actually survived, I was surprised. Mainly because I expected him to die.

Elrond: When I came to Valinor, I was shocked when I saw my family. But that's because I expected them to be in the Void.

Maedhros: One thing I hate about being the eldest is that everyone assumes I order the babies around. I do not. The babies order me around.

[mamwieleimion]

Morgoth hated the Feanorians. Or no, that's not quite it. He hated the Finwëans, he loathed them.

The whole line of Finwe had his hatred (and the hatred of Sauron as well, but that's a bit different pice of cake).

He hated them because that whole lineage, from Finwe himself to his very last descendants were the only ones of this world who could look him in the eyes and stand straight, to oppose him.

(Because Luthien doesn't count, now does she? She wasn't fully of the Eldar after all, no. She was other, and half. But the line of Finwe had no such advantages!)

Morgoth hated and feared them, thought not in ways that often could be perceived.

He saw weak, worthless elves who could look at him and say 'you are nothing'. Elves who could look the Darkness into the eyes and burn brighter, bright enough to banish the shadows.

Finwe, who stood between him and the Silmarils (Morgoth was wrong, Finwe wasn't protecting the Silmarils only). The High King of the Noldor who knew he will die and died with his head high and back unbroken, with eyes fearless and blood boiling with fire (where did you think Feanor got it from huh?).

Feanor, who slammed the door in his face, who spat and ragged and could not be contained. Feanor who he manipulated but couldn't corrupt. Feanor who lost only due to himself, whose death was his own no matter what Morgoth would give to be able to say that the Spirit of Fire was his at the end.

Maitimo, Maedhros, who endured torment and torture, humiliation and agony under which any other would break. Nelyafinwe who was rescued and came back, making himself the wall and shield between Morgoth and the whole world. Russandol who died by his own hand, because of his own pain and his own mind, his own actions. He who was never Morgoths, even at his lowest.

Maglor, a singer of such renown and talent one could be forgiven for mistaking him for a Maia. Makalaure who bend the reality in ways that should have been impossible to the elves and that were alien to Ainur. Kanafinwe who walks upon Middle Earth, enduring through his pain because it is his, his crimes, his mind, his hands. He is his own.

Celegrom who was hild, of the forest and rivers and streams, of the Hunt. Turcafinwe who rode against dark beasts and hunted in Oromes train long before Morgoths was released. Tyelkormo the Fair, the Cruel, master of his own soul, untamed and free as the wind. He who looked upon the shadows and walked right through them, he who looked at it and grinned with blood on his mouth and said at it 'i am better'.

Caranthir, never seen or heard but always there. Morifinwe who walked the thin line of Dark and Light with ease seen in none other before. Carnistir who burned with cold fire and walked in the shadows of others with skill unparalleled. He who was called The Dark, and he who carried that name with grace of the night sky. Unbending, master of his own life.

Curufin, so like his father and yet so different. Atarince who instead of jewels made draggers, he who forged armour that somehow was as unbreakable as the house that wore it. Curufinwe, The Crafty they called him, not knowing how close to the truth they were. He burned brightly, which made it all more tragic when he met his own end.

Ambarussa, one never without the other, red hair as the fire raging within. Amrod and Amras, wild as Celegrom, yet as silent as Caranthir. They who were twins, one an extension of the other. They who were so like their brothers, while being entirely different. They who burned the hottest.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Finrod and Maedhros in the halls or post embodiment talking about Sauron.

Not about the torture or the agony they went through, more like gossiping on how much of a peacock he was, strutting around and bragging about how beautiful he is.

If you came across them in the street you’d think they’re talking about one of those overdressed Tirion nobles, but then you hear “I preferred his torture to his speeches because dear Eru those were a whole new level of pain-“

“Heard all of two before being mauled. Definitely preferred the werewolf.”

Celebrimbor sometimes joins these sessions but he’s got the additional years of having known Annatar and it’s therapeutic to talk about how self absorbed he was to people who really understand. Safe to say Maedhros and Finrod sombrely commiserate the kid on dealing with that for centuries.

“How did you two become friends??”

“I think his vanity numbed my brain.”

“That’s fair.”

[warrioreowynofrohan]

One of the oddest Silmarillion takes that I’ve seen recently is the idea that Beren and Lúthien had it easy.

I mean, let’s take a look at Beren’s life. The Battle of Sudden Flame hits when he’s in his early twenties. He spends five years carrying on a guerilla war against the invasion of his homeland by orcs and other evil creatures; his mother and all his female relatives have to flee, and he has no knowledge of whether they are desd or alive, or captured. There’s a strange darkness speading over the forest and turning it into something out of a horror movie, a place most people won’t even dare to go into. The band of guerillas is slowly whittled down to about a dozen people, who are hunted constantly by Sauron and his wolves. Then, while he is away, his father, his uncles, and everyone else remaining are brutally killed, and he returns to find crows eating their corpses and orcs joking about looting the dead.

He carries on an guerilla alone, against Sauron, for another several years, in the haunted woods od Taur-nu-Fuin. When he absolutely can’t last any longer, he crosses the most horrifying wasteland in all of Beleriand, where the only water present is poisoned and turns you mad, filled with evil spiders and who knows what other creatures. He’s in his early thirties but he’s been through so mich that he looks like an old man. He has lost literally everyone he has ever known; he does not know if any friend or relative of his, anywhere, is still free or living.

Then he meets Lúthien.

When he leaves Doriath on the quest of the Silmaril, which every sane person in Beleriand knows is laughably impossible, he goes to Finrod, the one person he can hope for any assustance from. Finrod has an entire realm; I don’t think Beren is any expectation that Finrod will go with him personally. And what happens? The king of the largest remaining kingdom in Beleriand besides Doriath is overthrown by his own people at the instigation of Celegorm and Curufin and left with only a few loyal people around him. All of whom then die torturously in the dungeons of Sauron, followed by Finrod’s own death saving Beren.

On top of everything else he’s been through, on top of spending several months in despair being tortured in Sauron’s dungeons, the survivor’s guilt that Beren must be feeling is extreme. Even after Lúthien rescues him, it takes him a while to recover. And he still hasn’t made any progress on the quest itself!

Then they’re attacked by Celegorm and Curufin – the people who bear a substantial amount of respinsibility for the death of Finrod and the Ten, the people who very deliberately abandoned them all to due and coerced all Nargothrond to do the same, and the people who kidnapped Lúthien and attempted to force her into marriage – and they try to kidnap Lúthien again, and to murder Beren.

The fact that Beren does not kill Curufin in that moment is a deed of extreme moral fortitude. The difference between Beren and Lúthien compared with many of the Finwëans isn’t that they don’t face temptations, or that their choices are easy, it’s that they overcome those temptations.

So. Beren spares Curufin’s life at Lúthien’s urging and Curufin immediately tries to murder Lúthien; Beren jumps in front of the arrow, is severely wounded again, and for the third time since they met Lúthien gets to work healing him. Virtually all of their time together has been spent with Beren recuperating from physical injury, psychological injury, or both.

And as soon as Beren recovers, he walks away from the one person who loves him who’s still alive, and prepares to rob the gates of Hell, alone. Because Beleriand is dangerous, and as long as Lúthien is with him and therefore unable to go anywhere safe, she will be in danger from both the servants of Morgoth and the sons of Fëanor. And even if there’s a virtual 100% chance that him walking into Angband will lead to him being slowly tortured to death, that’s a better option than the one person he has left getting killed or, worse, captured, because of him.

And then she goes with him anyway. And beyond all hope they actually succeed in getting a Silmaril - and then he immediately loses it, and his hand, to Carcharoth, and it was all for nothing.

And for the fourth time since Lúthien met him, he’s near death and she’s desperately fighting to heal him and kerp him alive, while she’s exhausted to the point of collapse. And this is the moment when she gives up and goes back to Doriath, because that is what has the best chance of keeping Beren alive.

And then, at last, a ray of hope – Thingol looks at all they’ve been through and says, fine, you crazy kids can get married. And they’ve scarcely been married yet when they learn that oh, it’s not over, Carcharoth is rampaging through the land killing people and this needs to be dealt with. And Beren, even after everything, insists on going. (Because, hello, survivor’s guilt! he probably feels that this is his fault for, uh, getting his hand bitten off.)

(The fact that the Silmaril was, for a time, inside a wolf and outside Doriath, and Celegorm, noted hunter, never got near it, is, okay, rather amusing to me.)

And then Beren dies, saving Thingol, because he knows deeply what it feels like to lose his family and he’s not going to let that happen to Lúthien. And she loses him instead.

Now let’s shift to Lúthien’s point of view. Since her first meeting with Beren she has been betrayed by literally everyone she knows and everyone she meets except for Beren and Huan. She has been treated like a child, and a madwoman, and a trophy, and a pawn, and a sex object, and literally everything except an adult person whose choices have worth and meaning. She is not a superhero; she does not know what she is doing; she is terrified for practically every moment of it, for Beren’s sake even more than for her own, and for much of it she is hopeless. She does not know how or if she can achieve anything; she only knows that she has to try, because it is better than sitting in Doriath waiting to find out if Beren is dead. She puts substantial work and thought and effort into figuring out how to get out of Doriath (given in more detail in the poetic version) – and then, just when she thinks she’s found help (note: Celegorm and Curufin do not give her their names when they first meet her; she doesn’t know they’re the sons of Fëanor), she is again taken captive, this time with the goal of forced marriage and the threat of rape hanging over her. And she still knows Beren is in desperate danger, and she still can do nothing about it.

When Huan aids her and she goes to Tol-in-Gaurhoth, it isn’t because she feels she has the power to fight Sauron one-on-one! It’s because she’s desperate and can’t think of any other options. And in fact, it is not she who defeats Sauron, it is Huan; once he is defeated by Huan, she has the intelligence and strength of will to force his surrender by threatening him with something he fears more than defeat, and to demand – not the freeing of Beren alone – but the destruction of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, freeing all its prisoners. The reason she defeats Sauron is not that she’s a half-Maia badass who can wave her hands and do everything easily! The reason she defeats him is that she shows up there completely vulnerable and in effect uses herself as bait. That is an extraordinary degree of courage, not some kind of deus ex machina. And she’s putting all the strength that she has on the line – she’s pretty much passing out by the time she finds Beren. Similarly, all her healing of him is hard, exhausting work that she’s doing despite being, the whole time, terrified that he’s about to die. None of this is easy.

Likewise in Angband – Huan’s advice and Lúthien’s magic of disguise and sleep is invaluble in getting them through the door and past Carcharoth, but the reason she is able to enchant Morgoth and cast all Angband into sleep is not primarily because of extreme power, but because, like every other non-Beren person she meets, he doesn’t take her seriously. Morgoth finds the idea of using Melian’s daughter as a brief entertainment amusing (and, if you read the poetic version, makes some truly creepy sexual threats against her), and that’s how she is able to get him unguarded enough that she’s well into her song and he’s already getting sleepy before it starts to occur to him that maybe this isn’t going quite as he planned. Lúthien’s victories are not because she’s just on a different power level from the rest of Beleriand, they’re because she’s amazingly brave and willing to walk into the most dangerous places virtually defenceless. And she and Beren rely on each other utterly – after her sleep song she’s practically passing out and can only get out of Angband because Beren is holding her up.

So this is who they are, at Beren’s death. A man who has lost everyone he loves and everyone who loves him, every friend or family, often helplessly witnessing their gruesome death – everyone except for Lúthien. And an elf-woman who has been betrayed by everyone she loved or trusted, except for Beren.

When Beren dies, I wonder if he’s even relieved that it’s finally him dying instead of everyone around him. When he sees Lúthien in the Halls of Mandos, I believe his first feeling would be not joy or love, but horror. That the last living person he loved, and the one he wanted above all to save, had now died because of him.

But Lúthien isn’t done. She goes to Mandos, and she sings, and her song says: look at what we have been through, look at what all Beleriand has been through, Eldar and Edain. We don’t want realms or glory or power; we only want a few moments of peace with each other, and we fought so hard for it, and we didn’t even get that. And when she’s offered bliss and immortality for herself, she says No, I don’t want it, not without Beren. She isn’t promised happiness or long life – she only know that for the short time she will get, she will have the chance to be with Beren. And that is enough for her; for that, she gives up everything else.

This is a faerie-story; but it does not sound to me like a trite tale of easy victories handed to the heroes by Fate or by the author! They fought and struggled and sacrificed for those victories, amd they did it without ever letting go of courage, and mercy, and humility. There is a reason why this is the story that Frodo and Sam hearken back to for inspiration.

[kathrins-sketchbook]

Here comes my @tolkienrsb 2024 art! (Acrylic, 40x80cm) I've also been fascinated by the time period in the Years of the Trees before the conflicts within the Noldor truly boil over, but when they are just starting to arise. The "Finwëan family picnic" painting has in some form or another been going back and forth from WIP/abandoned WIP since 2021, so I am also happy to finally have done the idea justice :D

The fic for this piece has been written by @skaelds, who managed to beautifully bring the painting alive in her words and expand on the little moments we see, tying the little scenes together in the evening that the family shares at their yearly picnic. As the Finwëans try to cherish the yearly meeting, the many little tensions and cracks in the peace beautifully explore this strange moment in Aman. You can find the fic: "au dessus des nuages" here Rating: General Audiences No Archive Warnings Category: F/M Relationships: general Finwëan family relationships Characters: Finwë, Indis and most of the kids & grandkids Additional Tags: Family Fluff, Tension, Years of the Trees, Dysfunctional Family

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Very much this...

I was like: Naaaa, they all suck...well, this one is almost okay. (This one being Fingolfin). If he's okay, I'll be okay. Then the ass goes and gets himself killed.

Me: OK bitch. Now we're in it. Now it's personal. *proceeds to cry through the rest*

Me: ah that was nice. Maybe, I should read a bit of fanfic about it? Just to get into the groove for my trsb which is 100% the only silm story I'll ever write. What could happen?

Voice-over: she was very much in it. She wrote many more silm stories. She's excused almost everyone in the damn book. She's a fucking fool 🤣

Reading the Silmarillion for me was like: Wow the Feanorians are all horrible, horrible people, I don't get why they have so many fans?

Actually I feel very sorry for Maedhros, he's such a tortured (literally) soul and man, he deserved better! He lost his "best friend" (wink wink) and he tried to save Elurin and Elured. The rest sucks tho. Actually Maglor also didn't deserve such a horrible fate??? He tried to raise Elrond and Elros as well as he could and the Oath just absolutely ripped his soul into pieces. But the 3 Cs are still horrible. Well Caranthir did actually keep himself out of most conflicts and he did save Haleth and her people, he doesn't seem like a bad person per se... But Celegorm and Curufin suck, they are responsible for Finrod's death! If I think about it I feel a little sorry for Curufin. All he was seen as is Feanor 2.0, I mean even his mother called him "little dad". Surely it's no wonder how he turned out considering he was always in the direct shadow of "the greatest" noldor to ever exist. But Celegorm sucks extra bad, he tried to force Luthien to marry him! But in the end, all he wanted to be was a hunter, he wasn't responsible for his father's Oath. Also he was left by his only loyal companion, that probably drove him even more to madness.

But I'll never excuse Feanor's behaviour! He's responsible for the Oath upon his sons and therefore for their deeds and he started the first kinslaying over some stupid boats! He's the most terrible character ever! ... Actually satan himself whispered him into his ear for 60 years and he wasn't entirely wro-

[waitingforsecretsouls]

I'll always maintain that (Crown Prince!) Fëanáro gave his sons names befitting Princes and future Kings of the Ñoldor, as (King!) Finwë himself did for his sons. They're basically dynastic names and given how his sons are Princes and it's the schema he and his half-brothers were named for as well, it's difficult for me to see anything wrong with that. These people are royalty afterall, which means they're figures of public and to a certain extent political life by matter of birth.

It always seemed to me that father-names are the official names used for the political sphere (honestly something like titles almost), at least among the Finwëans (not least because their fathers tend to be the members of the royal family while their mothers marry in). Something I feel supported by the announcement of it in an official ceremony (Essecarmë), and which makes the contrast between the Fëanorians general tendency to prefer their mother-name and their half-brothers/cousins general preference for father-names very interesting (Obviously you can argue that it's simple personal preference or speculate about parental relationships (such as is canonically the case in at the least Fëanáro's case, though it's also still partly a political statement in its own right), but the point of this post is to go a little more political).

The Fëanorians are heirs to Finwë as the Elder House, but alone out of their wider family they're not primarily or even tangentially associated with one of the royal residencies. Rather, they spend their time travelling Aman to its outermost edges, and when not busy with exploration, are guests in Aulë or Oromë's Halls. They do not seem to have been involved in "politics" at all, prior to the Unrest, much less established in Tirion. In light of the abovementioned hypothesis regarding father-names political associations, the primary use of their mother-names serves to contribute to this air of an already rather casual conduct and presentation (see also Maitimo's comparatively 'casual' epessë (compared to eg. Artanis' or Gil-Galad's) in use specifically among close family, or the Ambarussa's nicknames (Given how they're not described as epessë) of 'First- and Second-Russa', which is not even mentioning the Fëanorians shortened father-names which could be considered potential 'nicknames' as well and even if not certainly imply a certain disregard for formality).

I'd argue that their unique status as not only descendants from someone confirmed to be neither royalty nor nobility nor associated with Tirion in any particular way in Nerdanel (which is not to claim that all Ñoldor of Tirion were career-politicians as a matter of course), but also the general fact of a less official and courtly daily environment and social contacts, e.g. seen in both Fëanáro's and Maitimo's notably close relationship to Nerdanels father Mahtan, both via kinship but moreso shared close relations with Aulë (with whom the Sons of Fëanáro additionally likely would have had closer contact growing up than Finwë, given aforementioned shared close association with Aulë and his halls yet Fëanáro explicitly not associated with Tirion as residency and noted to be living apart from the Finwë and Indis family unit even prior to founding his own family-branch) would have played an additional role in the development of their more informal manner (not that I see them as incapable of courtly manners, mind you (+ given Fëanáro's 'let them sa-si' comment were weaned on linguistic discourse at the very least, so no slouches in the academic department as well (Carnistir becoming economist prime in Beleriand as just one of the more concrete examples)) , they just canonically are very frank and to the point. Something I can see working favourable in the establishment of their many cross-cultural alliances in Beleriand).

I also think Nerdanel's lack of royal status might have played a role in keeping the mother-names she gave comparatively simple for the most part, making reference to their appearance and disposition (or, in Makalaurë's and the Ambarussa's case, prophetic insight, but even in the latter only because Fëanáro insisted on giving them separate names rather than just 'Ambarussa') in a less pompous or high-brow manner (compared to the mother-names given by noble-born Indis or of equally royal lineage Eärwen to their eldest in particular, Obviously this is more of a general tendecy, as we e.g. also get a prophetic name in Aikanáro, but I stand by Nerdanel keeping it notably simple by comparison).

The Ñolofinwëans in contrast are associated primarily with Tirion via Ñolofinwë, who, unlike Arafinwë, isn't mentioned to have had close contacts and frequent visits to Alqualondë, or primarily travel like Fëanáro and sons. Lack of additional crafts also leaves his later political plotting as only point of reference we get on his potential activities prior, making him a likely career-politician (which coheres with his better PR-management choices in the eventual feud and his kingly ambitions). Ñolofinwë married Anairë, who is most likely a Ñoldor of Tirion, given the lack of additional information on her (that mostly tends to get reserved for noteworthy deviations from "the norm", see also descriptions of hair-colour, where only deviations from the standart dark brown get explicit descriptions, or even regarding Finwëan wives, e.g. Indis, aside from the circumstances of her marriage, most noted for being a Vanyar and Eärwen a Falmari, Nerdanel for falling outside the beauty norms expected of the wife of a prince). Given that we do not get her children's mother-names, it's impossible to tell whether she added similarly ambitious/declaratory touches into them as Indis seemingly did for her sons.

The only child of Ñolofinwë singled out of the bunch during life in pre-Unchaining of Melkor Valinor is their daughter Írissë, for often going hunting in the forests with the sons of Fëanáro (to the point the narration sees fit to clarify that no romance was involved). While undoubtedly a free and adventurous spirit, the likely fact that she lived life in Aman primarily in Tirion would also add a neat layer to her readiness to accompany Turukáno (and eventually return) to Gondolin, the Tirion replica par exellence. While less overtly ambitious than her brothers or father I still propose that she was more comfortable in or at the very least used to the more formal environment of politics and appearances than often credited to her. Leaving its history of development aside, the fact that her father-name has a sindarized form (Íreth) which does not correspond to her Sindarin name actual in use (Aredhel) the argument can be made that her father-name wouldn't have been her preferred Quenya name, but rather her afaik unknown mother-name.

Given that we get no additional information on their whereabouts, it therefore also seems likely her brothers would have primarily been active in Tirion, and indeed later emerge as some of their fathers chief political supporters, Findecáno as primary Ñolofinwëan leader in the first half of the exile, and in Turukano's case commanding an eventual large following in his own right (thus fitting the pattern of favouring their more politically loaded names due to primary involvement in said social sphere).

The Arafinwëans are interesting, due to echoing Ñolo- and Arafinwë, descending from two royal lines, in their case both Nõldor (Arafinwë) and Falmari (Eärwen), yet firmly self-identifying as Ñoldor. Which I'd argue their deliberate use of father-name over mother-name signifies or at the least in effect serves to enhance, in addition to general royal gravitas. Given Melkor's warning to Ñolo- and Arafinwë that:

"Beware! Small love has the proud son of Míriel ever had for the children of Indis. Now he has become great, and he has his father in his hand. It will not be long before he drives you forth from Túna!"

, it also seems like, despite his distance from the family feud and marriage into the Falmari of Alqualondë, in whose company he often shared ("[...]he often sought peace among the Teleri, whose language he learned"), Arafinwë and his family still primarily resided in Tirion rather than Alqualondë. We later also see that at least Findaráto and Artanis out of their siblings harbour grand political ambitions such as ruling their own realms in Middle-Earth (mentioned as their motive for participating in the exile), while of Artanis we furthermore get told of a steep and ambitious participation in Ñoldorin academia (As for Arafinwë, given how Eärwen gave his own mother-name (Ingoldo) to their son Findaráto, it feels safe to say it wasn't the one her husband was primarily using. But in his case I'd even argue that his mother-name was the more explicit political statement, so there was no escaping the drama. As eventually happens, with ruling over the remnants of the Ñoldor-in-Aman. Though, funnily enough, it's Arafinwë rather than Findaráto for whom one can argue for a prophetic rather than strictly political nature of said name, even if I myself do not consider it as such).

Basically, I think that keeping in mind the more official nature of the Finwëan father-names adds fun potential additional layers to the world-building and characters in question.

[buttered-milky]

Russingon being an incestuous couple is so fucking interesting to me for what it represents narratively. (Yes, I know they are not canonically a couple. No, I do not care, because I do believe the coding is on purpose. Even if it’s accidental, it’s still there.)

If you don’t have a lot of experience with incest in other fiction (for example: the staple gothic horror), incest usually represents deviance. That’s just what it says on the tin: diverting from norms. Usually in a bad way. Deviance can be narratively treated as bad or wrong, and there is plenty of deviance from our meta societal norms with these two, but I digress. I don’t want to talk about that today.

I want to talk about subversion, and the deviance that is sometimes good, actually, and the message that sometimes you must break norms to do good.

[PS guys if you read all this and want to add your thoughts please do! This is kind of half-baked and I’d love to see more opinions because I’ve not seen anyone talk about this much.]

They are so fucking fascinating, because they are deviant! They are! Their entire relationship is baffling politically because of the Finwëan house feuds. More importantly, they have individual deviances that this relationship is telling you to pick up on.

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Maedhros is a Kinslayer. Maedhros is also arguably the most heroic one of his siblings.

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No, we can’t burn the ships. How the fuck are we gonna get Fingon over here?

No, I have to go parley with Morgoth.

I have to abdicate the crown because I’m becoming something I don’t want to be.

No, I have to put myself in front of everyone else. I have to hold Himring so the rest of Beleriand doesn’t get nuked.

I have to summon everyone for the Nirnaeth.

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And then after Fingon dies in the Nirnaeth, Maedhros (as we all know) goes fully off the rails—which is to say, he becomes fully Fëanorian. He goes back to the norm for his family.

There are more Kinslayings. He tries once to save two twin children, and that’s it. He gives up. There is no more hope. Maglor is responsible for taking in the next set. Maglor also wants to beg the Valar for forgiveness, and maybe Maedhros would’ve seen the sense in that once, but instead he becomes the second coming of his father and dies burning, clutching onto his Oath.

The deviance from Fëanorian standards was the only thing keeping him from becoming a monster for all that time.

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Fingon is also (very likely) a Kinslayer. He’s also the family extrovert and hope incarnate.

Unlike Aredhel and Turgon, he does not seclude himself for his own protection. He does the opposite.

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No, we can’t just stay here in Aman. We need to protect the other half of our people??

No, we actually have to get Maedhros. Fine, I’ll do it myself then. I’ll reach out to the gods while I’m at it, since none of you will.

Of course we’re going to join every battle. Of course we’re going to help hold down Beleriand.

If I have to face evil alone I suppose I will, then.

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And he dies when he’s alone against those Balrogs. Fingon is also like his father in many ways—but in some ways he is not. He is brighter, sometimes. He is hope incarnate in the worst of places.

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I’m far from the first person to acknowledge that what Maedhros and Fingon have going on is a very strong message to never give up hope. But like—not just that. What kills me is that, you know, the hope and the heroism and the goodness is the deviance.

They like each other while most of the Noldor are off getting doomed or fighting with their relatives. You get to those little bits where it mentions Maedhros and Fingon still keeping up their friendship and you kind of have to think “damn, at least some people still genuinely love each other in the midst of all this horror.” It’s sweet. And yet it’s deviant.

And that’s weird, right? Usually deviance is bad. But I think here it’s more neutral. Just presented as: this is not the common option, not the norm. It’s not the common option, but it leads to one of the kinder relationships in the Silm.

The Silm wants you, the reader, to take away that you should have hope and goodness, even when everything around you is hell. Even when it is the hard option. When it becomes hardest to hold up light and help others, that is when it’s needed most.

It will be scary sometimes to be hopeful, and that’s okay. It will be scary to extend yourself. It will be scary to trust and to defend others. That’s okay. Do it fucking scared and keep doing it.