#Hard Times is THE Maedhros song to me and always will be

[winepresswrath]

@rozarria tagged me!

"Put your playlist on shuffle and post the first ten songs, then tag ten people. No skipping!"

1. Stop Your Sobbing, The Prentenders.

2. And You Wish for Yesterday, Rose Royce

3. Wedding Song, Hades

4. imagine, Ariana Grande

5. Hard Times, Paramore

6. Gimme Some Loving, Spencer Davis Group

7. I Want To Break Free, Queen

8. Pop Trash Movie, Duran Duran

9. Hunger, Of Monsters and Men

10. Down Here, The Mountain Goats

tagging @howdydowdy, @theleakypen @drwcn @amedetoiles and @cerusee if you're so inclined! Also anyone else who wants to give it a go. I'm very nosy and love to investigate other people's music.

[whovianofmidgard]

Day 3 – Celegorm – Childhood

For @feanorianweek

You can also read on AO3

Celegorm didn’t have much in common with his older brothers. Maedhros was studious, polite and did boring things, like reading boring books, writing boring papers, talking about boring things with boring lords at court. It wasn’t hard for Celegorm to demand his oldest brother’s attention, to play chase with him outside, or go on walks in the forest together, but afterwards Maedhros always went back to his boring things.

Maglor was even worse though. Maglor liked playing dress up with delicate fabrics and lots of jangly jewellery, and didn’t like roughhousing in the grass with him, because it made his clothes dirty. Maglor liked to sing and play his harp, and while Celegorm admitted that his brother’s music was beautiful and he sang the best lullabies, he was also extremely annoying. The music playing almost non-stop, and loudly across the house grated on Celegorm’s nerves. Maglor didn’t even appreciate his gift of cool bugs and slugs, only receiving terrified screams and shrieking lectures as thanks. Frankly, Celegorm thought, when Maglor wasn’t teaching him how to care for and ride his pony, he’d be an utterly useless brother.

His opinion slightly changed when he once chanced upon his wannabe minstrel brother in the woods. Celegorm was pretending to be a predator, a big wolf or a mountain cat, and he’d been chasing squirrels and bunnies in the underbrush. He saw a pretty blue mockingbird and tried to catch it in his hands. However, the bird was faster, and swiftly flew up into the tree. Not content to leave his prey be, Celegorm ran after it, watching the mockingbird flit from branch to branch, always just out of reach.

The bird disappeared out of sight for just a moment, and the little hunter was greeted with a face full of leaves as he stumbled out of the bushes and into a clearing. He tumbled and fell hard on his bum, and Celegorm found he was suddenly very upset.

Yet before any tears could escape, his ears pricked up at the melodic sound of two mockingbirds calling out to each other, their duet making a beautiful song. Celegorm wiped a fist over his eyes and nose, finally looking up.

Instead of finding two birds engaged in some mating dance or whatever birds do, he saw Maglor whistling perfectly like a bird, and perched on his finger the mockingbird, singing an answer back to his brother.

Celegorm’s jaw dropped at the picture, watching his big brother in awe.

“You know how to talk to birds?”

“Know?” Maglor asked back, switching to gently caressing the bird with a finger. “Afraid not, little one.”

“But it’s sitting on your hand and sings back to you,” Celegorm said indignantly.

“I need not know what it says, nor the bird understand me for that. I merely mimic its calls and the bird finds it interesting enough to come investigate.” Maglor explained, then whistled a chirping tune as an example.

“Do you wish to try?”

Celegorm pursed his lips and blew, but only managed to produce a sputtering puff of air.

“Hmm,” Maglor furrowed his brows in thought then reach into his pocket. What he pulled out was a little clay bird with a slit in its tail and a hole in its head. Celegorm took it and examined it closer.

“It’s a water whistle, see there’s water inside. And when you blow into it...” Maglor prompted, and Celegorm blew into the clay bird’s tail. The sound that came out, much to his astonishment, was exactly like the warble of a songbird.

The mockingbird in Maglor’s hand turned towards Celegorm and chirped an answer back.

“Here, would you like to hold him?” and Maglor let the bird hop from his hand onto Celegorm’s shoulder.

Celegorm watched the bird up close, studying the deep blue shade of its feathers. Then he blew in the whistle again, chirping with the mockingbird back and forth for some time.

He kept the water whistle from that day on. He eventually learned how to whistle on his own, but it became a sort of hobby to find or try to create whistles that mimicked birds. For a while he enjoyed going down to ponds and rivers to confuse the mallards with his duck whistle. Later when he was gifted with Huan, he worked for days with his father to design a dog whistle to call him from great distances.

And long into the years of roaming the lands of Beleriand, Celegorm kept all his whistles hanging on a cord tied around his neck.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Russingon Headcanon

Maedhros and Fingon’s relationship reads like a romance right? Regardless of whether you ship it their entire relationship is compromised of several romance plot lines rolled into one and is a textbook example of a romance. You have the families who hate each other keeping them apart, the opposite sides of the war thing, the hopeless quest to save their beloved from the enemy at all costs, succeeding against all odds because of the power of love and just so much more. You see where I’m going with all this right? It reads like the script to a Disney film.

So if someone with no prior knowledge of who these two people are were to hear this story they’d probably think it was a similar kind of story to Beren and Luthien. They wouldn’t really question that this was a romance. So what I’m saying is that there were probably men and dwarves who were told this story and heard it was an old elven story and interpreted it exactly like that. So I’d say it’s a reasonable assumption that at some point songs and stories started to crop up and became pretty popular ballads. I’d also say a lot of the time Maedhros was depicted as the damsel in distress. Make of that what you will.

So when the elves hear these songs they’d probably see these similarities right away. I feel like Turgon would get to the point where he’d have to screen all the songs played in his court beforehand to make sure there was no trace of his older brother in a romantic context even implied because it makes him so uncomfortable. He gets really flustered when anyone brings it up because YES he knows it’s common knowledge but he was trying very hard to recover from the image of walking in on them during his childhood and does not appreciate the reminder . Maglor would absolutely love it. He makes a point of playing the instrumentals of the more well known ones at formal events just to watch Maedhros turn gradually more red. He also sometimes changes the lyrics to contain as many innuendoes as possible and stresses their names in the ones where they’re mentioned. He’s the only person who’s ever dared to play one in the presence of both Maedhros and Fingon. He changes the music to one of the ballads every time they get too close to each other during the evening and everyone always turns to look for them when it comes on so they have to scramble to a respectable distance.

Celegorm and Curufin are absolutely in on this and Tyelko helps come up with some of the dirtier verses. Everyone collectively agrees to preserve the innocence of Amrod and Amras. Finrod is secretly teaching the men more and more romantic ones but escapes all the blame. He’s actually the person who introduced most of the ones with their names in them.

Maglor teaches Elrond and Elros all of them without telling them who they’re about. Maedhros is absolutely murderous when he hears the twins singing about him and Fingon but he doesn’t want to let the twins know the truth so he keeps his mouth shut. Many elves are absolutely horrified when they hear that these are an important part of Numenorean culture. He made Quenya one of their languages don’t tell me Elros wouldn’t find this hilarious. Imladris is one of the few elvish settlements where these songs are allowed because Elrond secretly enjoys stirring things up. He figured out what they were about when he was still a kid but he finds everyone’s expressions way too funny to call a stop to it and just plays innocent.

[eunoiaastralwings]

Can I get headcanons on how elves flirt in general or court someone they have a crush on? I'm assuming it's not like how humans do, since they are wise and fairer than most other races. 💘

How Elves Crush/Flirt or Being in Love ft. my original characters

pairing elves x reader (separate)

a/n I put many elves as I possibly could - added my ocs too (in italics). I may have changed it up a little - sorry it just flowed. As always I love for you @theladyvanya for helping me out with characters I haven’t written before

HOPELESS ROMANTICS: Sings songs or dedicates poetry or make handcrafted ornaments or trinkets to win you over - something made their with love and admiration for you. Sometimes stumbles when speaking to you. Showers you with compliments daily - although nervous. Brings flowers or handcrafted delicate hair clip pieces. Hair is important to very elf - but they would make it romantic, if even gifting giving is not your style. They makes things special and mark every little occasion and make it romantic. Basically they show their love to through gifts.

Maglor, Finrod, Nerdanel, Celebrian, Arwen, Galadriel, Celeborn, Fingon, Idril, Ecthelion, Míriel, Aredhel, Pre-Oath Maedhros, Fingolfin, Finarfin, Glorfindel, Lúthien, Beleg, Dior Lúthriel, Cóloniélë

THE OBLIVOUSLY OBVIOUS TO GIFT GIVERS: They are really head over heels in love without you - they are usually very stubborn act stern around most. But the moment you walk through that door, it like you ground them - suddenly whatever stress, frustration or anger they felt melted away with the site of you. They think they are being completely oblivious - but the stares and the visually relaxing of their stress-filled bodies, or how they speak to with the utmost care trying to throw in a few nice words here or there, that speaks volumes to others. They do not know show to show proper affection - or it would take time to learn so instead they showers you with gifts once they have come to terms with their feelings - once the gifts come in they will not stop until you tell them it is too much xD

Caranthir, Erestor, Thranduil, Feanor, Haldir, Feanor, Curufin, Argon, Post-Angband Maedhros, Ixalië

HELPLESSY AND HOPELESSY IN LOVE IDIOTS: The cannot make one sentence out correctly to their crush. They try to be discreet but it never goes as plans - easily when other elves easily point it out. They are blushing mess trying to speak with you. Sometimes they try the way of becoming your secret admirer - trying to build up their courageous through sweet little notes it trinkets, before they try and confess to you. They will stumble and fall over their words - embarrassed and flustered - they might try and make a run for it but hold on to them please.

Lindir, Maeglin, Caranthir, Finarfin, Penlod, Amrod, Amras, Beleg, Cala, Lúthriel

THE CONFIDENT ONES: They can be real flirts - yes the smirking, winking, innuendo jokes and all. They are not ashamed or embarrassed to flirt with you - but rather confident in their feeling of wanting to make you theirs. They try and snatch you up fast too as they are afraid of others trying to whisk you away - the faster your heart belongs to them the better. They will make it very obvious they are interest in you so - except lots of PDA when trying to flirt with you, especially when you fall hard and fast.

Celegorm, Egalmoth, Elladan, Elrohir, Amrod, Amras, Glorfindel, Rog, Angrod, Valinor!Quildalótien

AFRAID TO FALL IN LOVE AGAIN: They are truly and utterly in love with you - but they are afraid of the feeling of love or falling in love again. Especially if you are a mortal - they either cannot give up their immortality and watch you pass away or gain mortality and leave behind their family - but if they are from a high rank family or already have children unfortunately they would need to choose the former and it the hardest choice they ever had to make. They are afraid of getting their heartbroken again - please cherish and love them for as long as you can. While crushing on you - they are very overprotective of you and thats how you will know - perhaps an argument breaks out where they have been bottling it all up. They need to know where you are all times to keep themselves sane too. Their overprotectiveness speaks for their lover for you. They are also afraid to put you in danger by being involved romantically with them.

Turgon, Caranthir, Elrond, Haldir, Nerdanel, Amrod, Celebrimbor, Fingolfin, Fingon, Post-Angband Maedhros, Ecthelion, Míriel, Dior, Beleg, Argon, Aegnor, Middle Earth!Quildalótien, Cóloniélë, Cala

Taglist form

tara's taglist: @wandererindreams @fizzyxcustard @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @asianbutnotjapanese @floraroselaughter @mismaeve

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

Imladris taglist: @queenstarlight2

[imakemywings]

End of Year Fics

Tagged by @swanmaids and @polutrope

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

I'm so sorry to tumblr-only posters but this is limited to things on AO3 because I do not have the time or energy to comb through my tumblr fanfic tag for the last year.

This was hard (┬┬﹏┬┬)

5 Multichapter fics

A Light Burns in the Forest by fictional_hr_department - T - Heartbreaking close-up of the Second Kinslaying.

The Stone City by earthbound_misfit - T - This fic creates such interesting relationships between Maeglin and his family in Gondolin where they're almost poised to be healthy and happy, but he tips the scales the other way.

Opening by @meadowlarkx - T - Finrod/Sauron - I'm counting this as multichapter. Lark creates such an intensely compelling push and pull of power between these characters that you cannot look away.

As Flowers from the Sky by Beleriand Death Trip - E - Fingolfin/Thingol - Sex counts as diplomacy, right?

A King is He That Can Hold his Own by iddump - E - Maedhros/Thingol - The dynamic is soooo good and the sex is soooo hot.

5 Oneshots

The Salt in the Wound by @swanmaids - E - Curufin's wife/Luthien - Fuck yeah, toxic yuri. I have been obsessed with their dynamic since Heather first proposed this ship and enthralled I remain.

Less Wise by @meadowlarkx - E - Maglor/Thranduil - I literally cannot say anything coherent about this fic; I am twitching on the floor about it as we speak. MUST read.

Elwing's Strategy by lifeisyetfair - T - Characterizations of Maedhros and Elwing in this are SO fucking fantastic.

Prick a Finger, Cut Your Hand by @welcomingdisaster - E - Indis/Miriel - Lena is a femslash queen of this fandom and this messy Mindis relationship is so compelling.

Angels Would Not Condescend by crownlessliestheking - G - GOD everything about this fic is just masterfully done. It's so tasty. Feanor uses math to blaspheme.

5 Oldies but Goodies

Ear to the Ground, Eye to the Sky by allthegoodnamesaretakendammit - E - Thorin/Thranduil - Masterful retelling of The Hobbit with Thorin trying to avoid the mistakes he's foreseen himself making.

The Other Things We Never Knew About Frodo's Soulmate - T - Frodo/Sauron - Look just trust me. It's so worth it.

Little Tenderness by batshape - E - Feanor/Nerdanel - I know I've recced this before but this author gets their dynamic SO well and so beautifully.

Speak, Friend, and Enter by Lady_Gavroche - E - Celebrimbor/Narvi - This one is just so cute and I love this portrayal of Celebrimbor <3

You Are Coming Down with Me by TheLionInMyBed - T - Fucking crunchy tasty look at Kindap Fam; probably my favorite fic for them.

5 Self-recs

A Cup Always Half-Empty - M - Maglor/Thranduil - Maglor wishes he could want less.

Extinguished - M - Nerdanel had hoped to beat Feanor to Formenos, but she came too late.

One Last Song - T - As Luthien prepares to surrender to old age, she is visited by a long-lost friend.

What the Water Gave Me - T - Finduilas/Nienor - Finduilas had never thought she had been saved for a reason, until she found the woman in the river.

Maedhros' Good Report Card - E - Maedhros/Thingol - Maedhros gets a reward for a job well done.

[allthatglittersisnotgoldrush]

I have read your entire series by this point and I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that this fic isn’t just my favorite fic, it’s one of my favorite book series ever. The writing is so lyrical and genuine and descriptive, I feel completely immersed in the world. Every single character is complex and sympathetic in their own way (except for the villains lol). All together this story is a western thriller like format McCarthy and I’ve nearly been brought to tears multiple times.

Your Maedhros is the best Maedhros I’ve ever read and really an original character in his own right. I said this before in a comment and I’ll say it again - he is at once Byronic, sensitive and deeply deeply strong. You show at every moment how riddled he is with fear- and how he refuses to let that hold him back from doing what needs to be done. There are scenes in this story that absolutely haunt me, moments I had to put it down because it was so painful. And also moments that made me want to cheer for this tight knit, ferocious and absolutely loving family.

I also wanted to give you a song that reminded me of Maedhros and that last scene in pharmakos where he thinks he will die: it’s called walkabout by Augustine’s

Thank you so so much!

*inarticulate shrieking*

Ok but seriously your devotion to the AU here and on so many fics through beautiful and insightful comments and a countless number of kudos has been so, so felt and appreciated. Especially because we NEVER tire of hearing of Maedhros, who really does feel unique (and real) to us through our years (sjsjjsns how is it YEARS?) of writing him. Will absolutely go and listen to the song rec (we love song recs!) since I (TG) am working on Pharmakós installments... 👀

Seriously, it is hard to convey just how meaningful it is to hear readers' takes on what we are doing because we feel both validated in our work to create complex dynamics and high stakes plot points (both adapting and changing canon), and often surprised and delighted by the details You see or the subtext you point out. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Our inboxes are always open 😊

(also pls tell us what points moved you almost to tears bc we angstmongers loveee this kind of data)

[welcomingdisaster]

🌈💌!

hey ho hey ho!

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

OHH god uhh. in enemy of good i really struggled to figure out the sex scene. i almost cut it entirely and changed the whole ~ vibe ~ of the piece. part of it was me feeling like the pacing felt weird (it seemed like it went by too fast in my first few times writing it) and part of it was trying to make the descriptions of the acts/fingon's body sound right in maedhros's voice. i'm really glad i kept it, though! i think it works well. :)  💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

OH BOY you wanna hear about my current fixation... i'm writing a theater fic!

basically it's set in early days valinor, with the idea of the house of finwë putting on a little vanity project musical for their three most dramatic, theatrical children (i assume it is very customary for the noldor royalty to display their children's art as they come of age). finrod, maglor, and fingon are all about the same age and sharing the lead roles (not always successfully). the whole thing is mostly the three of them trying on roles to figure out what sort of people they want to be and negotiating that with their families and the expectations of the society they live in. there's heartbreak! there's teenage angst! there's parental expectations! there's freaky songs of power shit! there's foreshadowing for their eventual fates! there's baby curufin trying to light design and feeling very fed up with everyone! i've been entertaining myself a lot with it and i'm so excited to have time to actually make progress writing it when this semester peters out, lol.

[maedhrosisbae]

I feel like “I’m Trying my Best” by Anson Seabra is Finarfin’s song. I mean, it can apply to A LOT of people in Silm like Finrod, Turgon, Fingon, Maedhros, Maglor, Caranthir, etc. but I feel like it especially fits Finarfin.

“I know you think I got it all figured out ‘cause I walk around with my head in the clouds, but I’m just a boy with his heart pouring’ out of his head.”

Finarfin was expected to suddenly become king. This was a job he probably never expected to get. Surely his father would never not be king, and if he ever did decide to abdicate Feanor and Fingolfin would fight it out and one of them would be king, and after them, their children. Suddenly though, Finarfin’s father is dead, his brothers and their children have left. His children left. They killed his wife’s people and have abandoned him to pick up the broken pieces they left behind when they set out on their “honorable” and “just” quest to retrieve what was theirs and get revenge for their father and king. He had to be strong, because he couldn’t fall apart like he wanted to.

“I wish that you could see the pain that I’ve seen, all of the times I spent being not me. I hope you know that it’s not always happy in my head.”

His brothers abandoned him, and his children abandoned. His father was just murdered. He lost almost all of his family in the blink of an eye, and he is not alright. Finarfin puts on a brave face for his people though, not letting them see how broken he is.

“ ‘Cause I don’t know the perfect road to go down, but I know, I’m trying my best. I’m trying my best to be ok, trying my best but everyday it’s so hard.”

Finarfin doesn’t know how to be king, not really. Fingolfin was always the diplomat and Feanor had the passion and charisma. What did he have? He has no clue how to do any of this, and he is having to learn and adjust on top of his grief. He is just trying his best to cope and lead his now broken people with his shattered heart.

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

Afterlife therapy can't fix everything, golden cages, and unreturned all sound neat!

@thalion71, for the WIP ask game!

Afterlife therapy can't fix everything: The very rough title for an OC centric fic, focusing on Urusalirë with their family after she's reembodied from going off to fight and dying in the War of Wrath. Fun highlights include: backstory trauma because their family who's deaths she feels responsible for weren't in Mandos, Nerdanel with a little Trauma By Proxy because almost everyone she cares for has died horribly in Beleriand, Mahtan trying to keep his family together while ignoring the bitter and hurt parts of himself to help his partner, and of course my headcanons on Mandos and reembodiment.

He deliberately holds himself back from touching her- something she is pathetically grateful for but simultaneously infuriates her. They want to hold and be held by their friend and partner and husband and they couldn’t in death and now they can’t in life because they tried and they had, for hours they had held their partner and their daughter as closely and tightly as any of them could bear, but even the thought of someone touching their skin now pins their ears back and makes them want to cry.

Golden Cages: Magic puberty with parents who are fundamentally, cosmically incapable of understanding you and a sibling who is both a lifeline and a threat is a great time! It's basically me working through Luthien's relationships with her parents and with her childhood while forced into a place and form that she can't fit out of love. Also an excuse for lots of purple-prose magic description, which I'm always a fan of. I'm not terribly happy with the bones of it anymore, and it's hard to reconcile normal mental reactions with Eldritchly-Inhuman Maia instincts without leaning too hard one way or another and feeling wrong, but I still love some parts and the premise so it will probably end up reworked in the future.

When she finally stopped Singing (she didn’t run out of air) she had wings large enough to half-span the throne room, and skin that glinted like metal and iridized like the inside of a shell, and eyes brighter than the forest-frozen stars, and hair that spiraled like clouds (like her mother’s) and, and, and. She didn’t speak for a month, until it all (mostly) went away, leaving her stretched and straining at her body’s seams with the knowledge of her new potential. The forest's bird-song didn’t come back for another week.

Unreturned: An AU where Luthien is able to return to life as a mortal(ish) because of her nature, but Beren can't because of his. She agrees to go back and live her life for as long as she can bear (very reluctantly, in no small part because in this AU she's already pregnant), and resolves that since she doesn't have Beren to settle down with, she is going to fuck shit up and leave as terrifyingly awesome a legacy as she can. Beren is her impulse control. Would love to do more with this but it's 90% undefined break-it-less vibes in my head which with the Silm means so much planning to get pieces to fall into place without making things worse. I do know that the major canon divergence would only start after the Nirnaeth was lost. Also featuring Maedhros and Luthien becoming really weird, terrifying, and vaguely codependent besties (a relationship I care so much about with less than 0 basis), and Daeron trying to coparent Dior while keeping his sister even halfway sane (paralleling Maglor with Maedhros- and possibly Gil-Galad?)

Luthien begs. She pours her heart and soul out into her Song, all her rage and grief at the unjustice of the world. Namo, the great judge, grim and unrelenting and always, always just, he cries. He sits, silently listening to her, as tears drip down his stony face. He is not unmoved. But there are laws greater than he to be upheld, and mortals do not return from death. Elves do. And Maiar do not die.

[tar-thelien]

Chapter eight; Looking For Light In The Darkness

Chapter notes:

Maedhros has a mental breakdown losing his grip on time and hits Maglor off screen although the twins do see the aftermath right after it happens and is close enough to hear screaming, there´s also a mention of Elrond hiding food and Maedhros being tied to his bed by an ankle, as well as unintendedly endangerment (nothing happens) Fingon too is disguised between characters

words: 1448

Elrond gazed at the empty seat in front of him where Maedhros usually sat.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45513742/chapters/121524805

“My brother wasn´t feeling well this morning, child,” Maglor explained with an anxious voice, “do you feel better today?”

Before falling asleep the night prior, Elrond had been given a glass of scented water by Maglor, after the elf had pried out of him why he wouldn´t sleep. Maglor claimed that the water was safe for consumption and that he and his brother both often drank it, with his brother being a frequent consumer. Still, Elros accused Maglor of lying at least a bit and the following morning, before Maglor came to wake them up, to Elrond, he claimed that if Maglor's statement was true, Maedhros would only consume something to calm him down if he posed a threat to others within the fortress, which he obviously did but not that much at least, otherwise, they would be in more danger than previously thought if the red haired elf didn´t shy away from even harming his own people.

Elrond nodded to the older elf's question as he himself looked down at his pancake in wonder pushing it around and folding it with his fork so the cream and berries fell out, dirtying the plate it had been served on.

“I would have loved to spend time with you, truly, but because of my brother's sudden sickness I have to take on some of his duties too, and so does Erestor, meaning neither of us will be able to spend much time with you today, but we will of course eat together as always.”

Later when the twins had been left to themself to either go to their room, with the few toys occupying it between the furniture or go exploring, which Elros seemed to be most willing to do, would be the best. Both so it would be easier to escape but also to see if they could find out what had happened to Maedhros and even just have it fun even though both children seemed still off put by that idea. They couldn´t have fun in the enemy's stronghold where they were kidnapped. It would be a betrayal to everyone they knew and cared about.

 

“You hear that?” Elros asked pointing over to Maedhros´s door where muffled voices could be heard, “you think he´s talking to Maglor?”

Elrond only huffed in reply as they slowly moved down the hallway, stopping as they caught sight of the slightly opened door in front of them, now able to hear the voices much clearer.

“Nelyo, come on! You need to lay down!” they could hear Maglor´s frustrated voice almost hissing but still holding a soft undertone and melody as if singing, “no, Finno promised he would come when he was done!” Maedhros was head replying sounding desperate, in the unknown language their captors sometimes spoke. Quenya.

What do you think they´re talking about? Elros asked Elrond over Osanwe, Elrond only shrugged leaning in closer to the wall as both twins flinched hard as the screaming and cursing began and something hit the ground in the other room with a loud crash followed by Maedhros screaming a bunch of other stuff in a different langue with Maglor talking in over him, now too almost yelling, before Maedhros finally said something in Sindarin they both could understand, “DON´T TOUCH ME! NO!” followed by Maglor obvious giving up on being calm screaming back at his brother, yet without any song which he had seemed to stop with using some time into the screaming argument, “YOU´RE NOT THERE! By Morgoth´s ass, Nelyo get your shit together!”

At the naming of the dark Vala Maedhros seemed to fall into complete silence and only a stained sobbing could be heard from him as Maglor crashed out of the room closing the door with a loud crash as he caught sight of the two frightened twins before he let himself glide down the door to his knees, head pressed against the hard dark engraved wood as he looked to the ceiling with ugly tears and snort running down his face as he sobbed out loud as if he was being suffocated. A yellowish green mark of discoloration was slowly appearing around his left eye and forehead, promising to soon be a faded purple with blue.

 

-o0o-

 

Rightly enough when meeting up for lunch Maglors left eye had almost been closed completely by the swelling in a blue hue, the mark on his forehead promising too soon follow.

“Who´s Finno?” Elros asked after Elrond had stared into his neck for some time, “is he your friend?”

At the side they could see Erestor´s face drop as he quickly looked towards Maglor who was now wearing a pleased curled up smile, “an old friend oh mine, but especially of my brother. You see Finno saved him more than once but on the most notable one he went to defy the Valar themself, such a shame it all left to ruin. You see Maitimo is extremely protective of his dear friend and I merely said something sour that spoke against Finno, which is one of the things that turn my brother dear a bit feral, but fear not I´m sure he'll be oh so happy to tell you two about Finno and his heroic adventures, just ask him when he has time!"

Seeing the mistrusting look on the twins face at the mention of Maedhros going feral Erestor cut in, in a sharp tone, “but Maedhros is not dangerous, and will not harm you! He has been protecting this fortress and its residents for long years and thus is in no mind of changing that vow.”

“When he is in his mind,” Maglor hissed as a final remark.

 

-o0o-

 

“Lord Maedhros?” Elros asked as he slowly opened the creaking dark oak door, “we wanted to ask you something, Maglor said we could and you wouldn´t mind.”

They looked into the dark room very aware of the fact some of the items had been removed as a lot of hastily filled boxes stood in the hallway outside the elf´s room, some filled with what looked to be weapons, armor, and gear like that. Elrond had even pointed Elros down to an ivory letter opener with a silver hound at the end of the handle, making it look like a small dagger.

Maedhros himself lay on his bed with his piercing grey mithril eyes looking right through them, both looking foggy but also more aware than ever. Under the many blankets and furs he was covered in they could a length of robe that was tied to one of the ornamented dark tree pillars of the footboard, disappearing in under the blankets.

“Lord Maedhros?” Elros asked as he slowly moved longer into the room after a moment of silence and a shrug of Elronds shoulders, “are you sleeping?”

“I don´t know who Maedhros is.” Maedhros replied after another moment of silence as he slowly drew his eyes into small slits with a crossed brow as if worried, or afraid, “maybe Finno knows who they are? Is it one of the tribal healers?” he asked with a worse accent than usual and halting over almost every word as if thinking it through.

“What is it you have there in your pocket, young prince?” Maedhros asked, still with barely open eyes and heavy breathing now.

“It´s food,” Elros replied in his brother's place, “from lunch. We had filled bread. It´s wrapped in waxed fabric so it won't get his clothes dirty.”

Elrond glared at his twin with eyes clearly screaming of betrayal but was shocked when instead of anger the elf lord lying in front of them only huffed, now with a smile, “I used to hide food too. Especially when I had just come down from the cliff. It was easier, and less consequence bearing than before. Don´t worry I won't tell anyone your secret, little Elerondo.”

“Who´s Elondo?” Elros replied as he slowly moved closer to climb up in the chair beside the red haired´s bed, usually occupied by Maglor, Erestor, or a healer, “it sounds familiar but too long.”

Yet again rewarded with a huff, almost a laugh this time, Maedhros smiled as he nodded Elrond over too who carefully stood beside the chair his brother was sitting in and excitingly leaning in over himself to get closer to the giant elf, “it´s your name in Quenya Elrond.”

“But how do you know who of us are who?” Elros kept on pressing him, “what is my name in Quenya? Do I have one? Erestor said he wanted to teach us Quenya later.”

“Your name would be Elerosse.”

---

No Maglor did not know that they were going to Maedhros to ask about Fingon otherwise he wouldn´t have said it he was just a bit salty.

Maedhros might be confused about the timeline in the last lines but he´s aware of Elros and Elrond´s names and titles it´s just almost everything else he has problems wrapping his head around, if he remembered everything he wouldn´t have translated their names out of respect and such of the past near events (third kindslaying)

Elerondo = Elrond´s name in Quenya; in one of Tolkien´s letters it´s translated to “The vault of stars” later changed to “Star dome” like his Sindarin name translates to. Erestor does mean the first translation though.

Elerosse = Elros´ name in Quenya; in one of Tolkien´s letters it´s translated to “Elf of the spray” and later changed to “Star foam” like his Sindarin name translates to.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Living memories

This is for @mismaeve who has been a marvellous friend and a first-class enabler...

Also, @medusas-hairband, here's me trying out yet another trope/popular subject of the fandom...soon, they will truly shoo me away haha

Read this on Ao3

Words: 1,1k

Warnings: sadness, I guess Major Character Death, semi-sad HC about kidnap fam

Summary: @mismaeve & her beloved Elrond leave ME...and are promptly greeted by a familiar silhouette

“Do you think he’ll be there?” 

In all your years at Elrond’s side, you had never known him to be this nervous; leaving Middle-Earth had been hard for him, especially as he had left behind a well-loved daughter and a line he would no longer be able to protect and defend.

“I am sure he will,” you replied gently, holding his elegant hands in one of yours in the same intricate intertwining of fingers he had ever used to calm you down when the storms of your soul tossed around the frail boat of your mind, “you’ve always said that he was reliable in his duties.” No matter the cost, but that, you didn’t say.

“So much time has gone by though,” Elrond mused, “maybe he…”

“He’s not forgotten, my love,” you laughed, “I’m certain that he’ll be there.”

You knew him the moment you set eyes on him; he was exactly as Elrond had described him and yet, so very different from the portrait painted with the brush of filial love and dipped deep into the pot of earnest admiration.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” you smiled, throwing your slender arms fitfully around the tall creature, crowned in flaming red hair. He stumbled backwards but didn’t push you off; he merely froze in incomprehension.

It took a moment for you to fully comprehend that he was trembling in your arms, and – instinctively – you started humming the melody that had become the pinnacle of solace to you.

Maedhros jerked back, his bright grey eyes wide with amazement.

“Káno wrote this song,” he stammered, “how…who…”

Your own gaze settled heavily on the scarred face alight with a truth so terrible it surpassed anything you had ever witnessed; maybe, you thought, he would find solace in a gesture entrusted to you in the darkest hours of the night as well.

So, you took his lone hand and tangled your fingers with his in a silent greeting and claim of kinship that left him visibly aghast.

“Father,” Thankfully, Elrond had finally found the courage to get off the boat and came up the shore in measured steps to break the tense silence between you and that stranger who was known to your soul, “it is good to behold your face once more.”

Maedhros stared at him, his eyes flitting back at you nervously every now and again, for a moment that stretched on endlessly in amazed silence. 

“This is my beloved,” Elrond introduced you, “for there is always love to be found if one knows to keep an open mind. I recall you telling me this, do you?”

“You’ve…the song…and…” Maedhros looked down on his fingers cradled in yours, “you remember?”

“I shall never forget,” Elrond laughed, “and I’ve written it down; all the silly things Elros and I have done and how happy we have been despite the tragedies dogging us.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have, pray that nobody shall ever find those words,” Maedhros sighed, “for they might tarnish your excellent reputation. I am so proud of you!”

Bringing the complex knot of fingers up to your lips, you reverently kissed the back of his hand to get his attention.

“We’ve copied his account in long hours of meticulous work, Lord, and we’ve made sure that every library we could reach should contain one of these copies.”

“Why would you do that? Don’t you know who I am? What I’ve done? He is the best of us, because he has overcome the flaws that were our downfall; why would you draw attention to his relationship with people better blotted out and forgotten?”

Maedhros was visibly aghast.

“Oh yes,” you retorted calmly, “I know that you’re one of those who have raised the sun and moon of my life; I know that you’ve taught him to count stars instead of grievances; I know that your words, actions, and songs of solace have comforted me through many a dark night.

These people – as you call them unfairly – deserve to have their part of the story told; in the name of truthfulness and accuracy, both accounts – the acts of cruelty as much as the gestures of love – must be considered before judgement can be passed on anyone involved, wouldn’t you say?”

He was stunned into silence by this.

“And even now, as we set foot onto the hallowed lands of our forefathers – never to return to the only home we’ve ever known – there are children sung to sleep to Macalaurë’s melodies and spouses’ hands clasped tightly in this loving hold.”

“It’s been so long,” Maedhros unwittingly echoed the words spoken only a short while ago by his foster-son.

“Long gone and yet, never forgotten,” you whispered, “awaited impatiently, hoped for fervently, and loved earnestly…yes, I know you and I know what you’ve done.”

“I’ll leave you to your greetings and your tears,” you then encouraged these two, staring at each other as one looked upon one’s own reflection in a flawed mirror, “I – for my part – shall go sing on the shore, in hopes to draw Maglor home.”

You knew not whose stifled sob followed you like a whisp of mist as you returned to the water, but – in the depths of your heart – you knew that healing had begun for the one you loved so well and who had lost so much.

Ever since you had known him, Elrond had adamantly claimed that – no matter how much was taken from him – he would buckle and bend but never break under the strain, because he believed in his duty and held up hope like a frayed banner in the face of evil.

Now was his time to rest and he deserved to have the things wrested from him in ruthless sacrifice and terrible greed restituted to his boundless grace.

And so you sang – not paying any heed to the startled onlookers – the songs you had learned from the honeyed lips of your beloved; you projected all the solace and love, come down to you through ages of deprivation and hardship, over the merciless sea in hopes that they’d reach their source and bring him home.

“Even if it seems hopeless, it is still worth the fight,” Elrond’s words echoed in your soul and, if there was anyone who truly was worthy of seeing this prophecy fulfilled, it was undeniably this entity of light, cobbled together from the best parts of different races and people, keeper of their memories, beacon of their light.

Love will prevail, he had made it possible for you to believe that, and believe you did.

So...here's another weird Silmy/Hobbit/LOTR thing I've written (really fast, I am sorry if there's still mistakes in it)

I hope it makes nobody sad and everyone is feeling happy and comforted by this :D

Lots of love from me ❤️

If you liked this and/or want to encourage me to go on putting my filthy paws all over the Silm, please feel free to comment/reblog. It would mean the world to me ❤️

[annoyinglandmagazine]

A Song Only You Can Hear: Chapter 1

‘Fingon sweetheart, just remember that your father and I are both very proud of you no matter what. Just try your best and work hard ok darling?’ Amil was trying hard not to cry and Atto was not far behind. ‘I’ll be fine stop worrying! You’re making a scene!’ he huffed while looking around. He was fourteen years old, practically a grown up, he didn’t need them ruining his first impression on all his new classmates! Atto chuckled and leaned down to give him a hug ‘Sorry, sorry! We’ll leave you be now. Good luck!’ Turgon held Irisse up so she could kiss his cheek and Fingon wrapped his arm around him quickly before picking up his trunk. ‘And remember, I’m expecting letters from you every week, Fingon Aracano Findekano Nolofinwean!’ was the last call from his mother while he took a deep breath and walked into the crowd of students in the entrance hall.

He side stepped almost immediately to avoid a younger boy tripping over a stray trunk. It was absolute abject chaos. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of yelling, whooping and, he was fairly, sure some crying. He glanced around, trying to find some sort of authority figure to little avail. ‘Registration! Registration for new students over here!’ He saw a man with greying auburn hair weaving his way down the swarmed stone steps, waving a list.

Fingon pushed his way through, with repeated apologies and made his way towards him. A few minutes later he was hauling his trunk up the narrow staircases and corridors repeating the room number he’d been given to himself determinedly. In what felt like hours he’d made his way to his new common room. There were about a few dozen boys chattering loudly with each over. He took a deep breath and pulled on his most charismatic and friendly smile.

‘Hi! My name’s Fingon I was wondering if you could tell me where dorm E5 is?’ Some of them turned and a cheerful looking one spoke first ‘You’re the new kid right? I’m Beleg, nice to meet you. Your room’s just up those steps and first to your right. Dinner’s at half six so you should get ready for that. Any questions? We’re doing rugby tryouts if you’re interested-’ and he was cut off by a boy cleaning a flute in the corner, ‘Honestly Beleg, the guy just got here! Not everything has to revolve around sport!’

A boy with waist length blonde hair interrupted with a dramatic gasp ‘How dare you! Thel, you traitor!’ ‘Oh calm down Glorfindel-’ The conversation descended into chaos and the first boy, Beleg, mouthed ‘Get out while you still can,’ to him from the back. Fingon smiled back and slipped up the stairs.

He found the door and knocked. ‘Come in.’ He opened the door and found his new roommate unpacking his bags methodically into his set of drawers. He finished neatly folding a shirt and turned to face Fingon. He had wavy red hair just above his shoulders and towered over Fingon despite seemingly making an effort not to.

He was possibly the prettiest boy Fingon had ever seen. He looked at Fingon expectantly and he became aware that he’d just been standing there saying nothing. His social skills must have been impacted by the long journey. ‘I’m Fingon, I’m your new roommate,’ he said quickly. He smiled widely to try and make the other boy forget his awkwardness.

‘I’m Maedhros,’ he said. ‘Your drawers are over there, that’s your bed, that desk is for you to use and lights out is at half past nine. As your year head I am always available for further questions you may have.’ He then turned back to his bag and did not acknowledge anyone else until dinner time, which he spent in business like coordination with a fourth year over debating team arrangements.

[aeonianarchives]

Firecracker

Summary: the reader is a creature made by Manwë himself, they have the pride and the wings of an eagle.

Pairing: Maglor x Reader

CW: Male!reader, Gay very gay, They/He Pronouns for the Reader, Original Female Character, Fingon x OFC

TW: Morgoth *kinda* abuse towards reader

Song: Firecracker- A Dungeons and Dragons Inspired Original Song by Cami-Cat

A/n: I did change some of the lyrics of the song to suit the fic better

Servant of Manwë that was what you are, that's what you were made to do, but you couldn't help to want more, to want something else, to have a different Purpose, instead of stay by his side and act as his messenger.

Melkor offered you more you would no longer be a messenger, you would be the left hand man, a warrior, he had seen you training with the Fëanorian's you were skilled, and his offer was tempting.

Maglor came to were you sat zone out you didn't hear him approach you jumped when he touched your shoulder "What's got you like this Mellon-nin" Maglor question.

"I got a hard to refuse offer, but I know if I take it, it would mean the end of everything I have good here" You said Maglor was one of your closest friends and you found council in the elf.

"What is the offer" Maglor asked

"I get more, I am no messenger anymore, I get everything I want, but I lose everyone I care about, I would lose you as well" You said.

"I'm sure you won't no matter what you take I will always be their for you" Maglor said you sighed and stood making your decision.

"Ah have you come with an answer for my offer as well" Melkor said.

"I accept it" you said even if you would in the future look back on it and say it was the stupidest decision you ever made in your life, the Valar grinned you had no idea what he planned but Maglor's words ment nothing after Melkor did what he did and stole the Silmarils making you regret your decision immediately but Melkor would hold it to you and Manwë wouldn't take you back now you sided with his Brother who he somewhat hated with a passion.

You sighed as you sat with your legs hanging off Angband, you felt Mairon's Presents behind you "Do you need something oh great lord" you teased Mairon was Melkor's right hand man he made the same mistake you did but he did not regret it.

Mairon said nothing but instead joined you, so you thought to give him a little scare you stood up he was going to ask you were you where going but instead you just let yourself fall Mairon jumped up he yelled after you.

you turned and let your wings out they caught the wind and brought you up, "I HATE YOU" Mairon yelled at you, which you just smiled at as you landed next to Morgoth to save him walking all the way up to get to you, he sighed he may of got used to watching you fall off buildings and then save yourself but Mairon certainly did not

"Stop scaring him, he cares for your safety although he does not show it he's scared one of these times your wings won't be able to save you" Morgoth said you sighed

"You don't actual let me out to fly, i'm getting board, and thats the only adrenalin I get" you said

"if that's what you think, infiltrate himring say I let you escape, I know you want to return to my brother but you fear he won't take you back" Morgoth said

"And how am i suppose to do that looking like this it's rather clean and well dressed they will shoot me as soon as they see me coming and Maedhros knows i work for you, Afterall some idiot kidnapped him and strung him to a cliff to die" you said

"Stop calling him an idiot and for that we need to improvise" Morgoth said taking you down to the servant halls he made you change into rags and got orcs to harm you with their weapons as well as wargs.

"That would seem surfactant go" Morgoth said you took off as soon as you were outside, you flew over mountains and forests and flat plains until you got to the gap of Maglor and saw the city on the edge of the cliff time for some erratic flying which you did a bit to well as you slammed through a glass window of Maedhros' throne room, him and Fingon look at you.

Fingon walked down to you as you did not seem to move he crouched down beside you and checked your injuries over.

"They need a healer Maedhros and now, they may die" Fingon said the other reluctantly called a healer so they took you, it took some time before you were back on your feet you did not suspect a window could do that much damage to you or your wings.

"Leave" Maedhros said to you as he walked in the room.

"What" you questioned

"You heard what I said Leave, I am not going to take pity on you even if morgoth cast you out" Maedhros said

"I have no were to go and I gave you mercy, I feed you, I looked after you while they left you strung from a cliff, i showed mercy on you" you retorted

both of you were to caught up in your argument to hear someone storm passed the guards he was back from his patrol of his lands he stopped next to his brother when he saw you, he heard from Maedhros and Fingon you worked with Morgoth so why were you here.

"Go back to Valinor I am sure Manwë would love you back" Maedhros said.

"Shut up" Maglor said making his voice heard, the two turned from their argument to him.

"You used to be best Friends" Maglor said

"Yeah before that eagle became a vulture" Maedhros said

"Your just like your father, blinded by your emotions and anger, you never will be better than him your just stuck in his shadow" you shot back in response to Maedhros, Maglor didn't even stop you but he did stop his brother.

"Why do you protect her" Maedhros asked his brother

"Why can't I" Maglor challenge you ended up staying in Himring thanks to Maglor and Finrod, you heard their was a festival of the nobles going on two moons away.

Maglor smiled when he saw you, you were the only one with wings so you were never hard to spot he walked down the stairs and towards you.

"Maglor, hello, I have not had the chance to thank you" you said as you saw him approaching.

"Do not worry, are you coming to the festival two moons away" Maglor questioned

"I have not been invited" you said Maglor hmmed

"Will you do me the honour of being my date to the festival" Maglor asked you smiled

"I would love to" you responded, you did not see Maglor before the morning of the festival, he came to your door with clothes in his hand you were shocked but let him in.

"Can't have you failing to look like an absolute Valar can we" Maglor said laying it down on a table it looked to have many pieces to it which freaked you out but when you unfolded it, you realized it did not, Maglor looked away as you tried it on, it did look a lot like it was out of Manwë's wardrobe Maglor smiled seeing it fit you the colours matched your wings perfectly and it brought out your eyes, Maglor smiled as he gently placed the circlet on your head it went well against your hair.

"Your fashion taste is only rivalled by your musical ability" you told Maglor

"You are to kind" Maglor said before he left you, you got caught up in something before get to the festival which was in full swing when you got their the band was accompanied by Maglor's Harp, he began to sing.

There once was a Ellon who could blend into the night His speed was like lightning his step as if in flight And before he slipped away I tried to call him with a plea Please my firecracker come back and dance with me

you leaned against the pillar you were standing next to ever since Maglor had learnt you could control fire he had called you firecracker, Fingon looked at you seeing you with a small smile you your face made him curious especially as you looked at Maglor with an admiring gaze which bored with an infatuated gaze, he walked over to you.

"I though you were not ment to be here" Fingon said you gave him a side eye

"Maglor invited me" you replied to the High King

come and dance now firecracker Stomp your feet to the rhythm Come and dance now firecracker Won’t you now heed our anthem

Maglor knew you did not dance but if he asked you to most often than not you did "Nice little festival you have here" you told Fingon

"It's not my festival it is Maedhros'" Fingon said you smiled slightly at the king as you wings puffed up a bit.

"I see the way you look at Ellarian if you really want to talk of Maglor tell me of her" You said the tips of the kings ears turned red.

"I do not look at her in that way" Fingon said you hmmed

"Yeah sure you don't" you replied to him with a smirk as you both watched Ellarian dance.

Set all the world into a mighty blaze And dance the night away Light up the night with your fiery gaze I won’t forget your face

Fingon turned to you "Can't you use fire as a power you do have Maiar-ish powers as well as those wings" you sighed and shook your head as you walked down the steps you caught Maglor's eye and his original verse he was going to sing changed.

It was then that the Ellon came into my sight Shining brighter than any star in the sky Spinning round his feet kick the ground into a spark Setting fire ablaze inside my heart

Maglor said and if on cue with the words you did as he said kicking up a spark, Maglor stood but the band still played just without the harp.

With his dance he began to warm my world again And I knew I would love him until the end

You smiled as you danced with Maglor a trail of sparks following after your feet and going into the air and making wonderful moving pictures a rabbit jumped to Ellarian who put her hand up to it but then it jumped to Fingon and disappeared.

Maglor had a grin on his face as they danced, you pulled Maglor around his arm had wrapped around your lower back "I did not know you felt that way for me" you said the elf made a worried face.

"But I am glad my feelings are not one sided" you said as you turned him around the music soon found it's way to the end and you returned to where you stood before but this time with Maglor he handed you a glass of wine.

"I did not think you would come when you said you were busy, you came at the wrong timing if I knew would of come in as I started my song I would of sung something else" Maglor said

"Sure but then you would of never learnt of my feelings" you replied to the Elf watching Ellarian and Fingon talk.

"excuse me I will be back" you said and you walked to the two

"My Lady would you honour your king with a dance, he is to shy to ask you himself as he is head over heels in love with you" you said

"Y/N" Fingon hissed you turned your back to him with a wave and returned to Maglor.

"What was that" Maglor asked as he watched Ellarian drag Fingon to the dance floor with a smile.

"just a little wingman thing now where were we" you said to Maglor

"Oh yeah" you said grabbing Maglor's collar and pulling his face to you and kissing him.

"Gi Melin Meleth Nyello-Nin" you said

"Gi Melin Ana Firecracker" Maglor said

Elvish translation:

Gi Melin - I love you

Meleth - Love

Nyello - singer

Ana - to

Nin - my

[polutrope]

Fëanorians as Leonard Cohen Songs

I was inspired by this post by @ma3dhros to match Fëanorians with one of my fave artists, Leonard Cohen.

Fëanor: Everybody Knows

Rebellion-era, totally disillusioned and pissed off. Imagine this playing as he’s dying and looking at the towers of Thangorodrim, knowing they will never overthrow them and making his sons recommit to the Oath any way. Musically it also has the right tone. 

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking

Everybody knows that the captain lied

Everybody got this broken feeling

Like their father or their dog just died

Nerdanel: In My Secret Life

I don’t love how it positions her in relation to Fëanor and her children (i.e., men) but it’s also the feel of this song, musically - it’s softer and gentler than most, and yet determined in its rhythm. 

Looked through the paper

Makes you want to cry

Nobody cares if the people

Live or die

And the dealer wants you thinking

That it's either black or white

Thank God it's not that simple

In my secret life

Maedhros: Almost Like the Blues 

This was hard. Maedhros is such a leviathan in this fandom and I don’t feel I have spent enough time with him, but the below lyrics were way too on-the-nose to resist.

I have to die a little

Between each murderous thought

And when I'm finished thinking

I have to die a lot

There's torture, and there's killing

And there's all my bad reviews

The war, the children missing, lord

It's almost like the blues

Maglor: You Want It Darker

I mean, the angst is off the charts (but also totally rational?)

If you are the dealer, I'm out of the game

If you are the healer, it means I’m broken and lame

If thine is the glory, then mine must be the shame

You want it darker

We kill the flame

Celegorm: First We Take Manhattan

I’m sorry. I really don’t like Celegorm. I know he was okay once, I just can’t get over his post-Bragollach behaviour, which is what this song refers to. (Yes this song is actually about fashion so not that aspect)

They sentenced me to 20 years of boredom

For trying to change the system from within

I'm coming now, I'm coming to reward them

First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

I'm guided by a signal in the heavens 

I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin 

I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons 

First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

Caranthir: It Seemed the Better Way

Sympathetic!Caranthir. 

I better hold my tongue

I better take my place

Lift this glass of blood

Try to say the grace

Seemed the better way

When first I heard him speak

But now it's much too late

To turn the other cheek

Curufin: Why Don’t You Try

Ohhh I struggled with you, Curufinwë. I am not satisfied with this choice, but just imagine positioning him in relation to Fëanor. I don’t know whose POV this. I kind of like the slow, choppiness of the song itself, which contrasts a LOT with my choice for Celegorm. I guess this could be a Curufinrod song but I don’t know that ship well enough to say. 

Do you wanna be the ditch around a tower?

Do you wanna be the moonlight in his cave?

Do you wanna give your blessing to his power

As he goes whistling past his daddy, past his daddy's grave

I will probably change my mind about this one. 

Mrs. Curufin: A Street

I didn’t even know this song before browsing for this post but had to add in Curufin’s wife for it. This is if she followed him to Middle-earth.

You left me with the dishes

And a baby in the bath

You're tight with the militias

You wear their camouflage

You always said we're equal

So let me march with you

Amrod (crispy): Joan of Arc

This is a bit on the nose, but why not? 

It was deep into his fiery heart 

He took the dust of Joan of Arc

And then she clearly understood

If if he was fire

Oh, then she must be wood

Amras+Amrod (raw): Who by Fire

Yeah, I picked another fire song, what can you do? Amras gets this to himself in the Crispy!Amrod canon variant. I mostly just like that it’s a series of questions, like the Ambarussa are a series of questions. And probably had a lot of questions about their choices, and how everyone they knew was going to die and they (or Amras) last almost to the end and why? I have a pretty developed headcanon for Amras where he’s pretty much disillusioned and just dead inside from the time Amrod dies, but also a bit manic. So the series of questions and their weirdness (”merry merry month of may”) works for that. 

And who by fire, who by water

Who in the sunshine, who in the night time

Who by high ordeal, who by common trial

Who in your merry merry month of may

Who by very slow decay

And who shall I say is calling?

Celebrimbor: Anthem

I don’t have a ton of thoughts on Celebrimbor cause I’m a bit of a First Age puritan I just don’t ever feel I’ve run out of FA material to contemplate. I want to let him have a crack to let the light in, thought, at least for a while.

Ah, the wars they will be fought again

The holy dove, she will be caught again

Bought and sold, and bought again

The dove is never free

Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in

Bonus

Melkor: The Future

I considered this for Fëanor but it’s just So. Dark. it cannot be anyone but Melkor. I don’t personally Angbang so I don’t have a good grasp on it but it could be Angbang?

Your servant here, he has been told

To say it clear, to say it cold

It's over, it ain't going

Any further 

And now the wheels of heaven stop

You feel the devil's riding crop

Get ready for the future

It is murder 

[odium-amare]

Tolkien Elves Read Mean Tweets

Tweet: @fingolfinslut i’m looking forward to the day when the world stops sucking feanor’s d*ck. Fukface basterd

Fëanor: “What kind of preposterous name is that? Don’t worry. I will give you something to suck on.” 

                                                           --

Tweet: @curufinweno1 Hey, Fingolfin. How’s it feel to always be second best? Must suck pretty hard.

Fingolfin: “Fëanor, you’re not exactly slick about this. Come out behind the screen.” 

                                                           --

Tweet: @angbannnng666 Ohhh look at me. I’m finarfin. the irrelevant, resident, prettyboy goody goody! get fucked valar ass licker. 

Finarfin: “Ok, that’s not very nice at all.”

                                                           --

Tweet: @idiotfromdoriath Hey Maedhros, need a HAND? Lol.

Maedhros: “Huh, you almost made it original. Idiot from Doriath.”

                                                           --

Tweet: @joshbecker89 Every time I worry I’m threatening my masculinity by listening to nickleback, I remember that Fingon dude wears fricken gold in his hair. Then I feel better about myself. #thatsgaybro 

Fingon: “Ok first of all, Nickleback isn’t even that bad?”

                                                           --

Tweet: @hedonisticpleasuredd No offense, but I feel like killing a werewolf nude was the only memorable thing Finrod’s ever done. 

Finrod: “I’m just grateful to anyone who’s heard of me really. So thank you, kind stranger.” 

                                                           --

Tweet: @angry-edainhuman And the award of most stupid and cowardly elf goes to *drum rolls* Aegnor #whatafuckingpussy #andrethdeservedbetter

Aegnor: “...”

                                                           --

Tweet: @avrillavignefanhardcore Angrod? Wait who’s that again? 

Angrod: “Someone more successful than you, brat.”

                                                           --

Tweet: @edgyteen101 Maglor’s entire role in the stories is sooo 2000s. Like we get it. You’re just a sad, emo boi.

Maglor: *proceeds to play sad, emo songs on his harp to annoy the tweeter further*

                                                           --

Tweet: @btsarmycrazyfangirl Celegorm somehow manages to look like a boring jock and that vampire Lestat at the same time every time I see him.

Celegorm: “...Thanks? I’ll take that as a compliment, peasant.”

                                                           --

Tweet: @randomchicka267 Caranthir’s red face makes him look like a big, riped tomato. Why is no one talking about this? 

Caranthir: “Bitch, what did you call me? Come out behind the screen and say it to my face!”

                                                           --

Tweet: @ororodreth Curufin is the walmart version of his dad.

Curufin: “...You’re not wrong. But I will remember you @ororodreth.” 

                                                           --

Tweet: @feanorian_lover why does Turgon always sound like he’s putting himself to sleep every time he talks?

Turgon: “Ha...That’s funny.”

                                                           --

Tweet: @thefountainman House of the Golden Flower? More like House of the worthless spineless dickless soulless purposely virtueless sellout. Nice lembas commercial you piece of shit.

Glorfindel: “Wait, there’s people that don’t like me?!”

                                                          --

Tweet: @treykennedylol I just watched a muted performance of Thranduil and that asshole just looks loud without any sound on. Like no thank you.

Thranduil: “HOW DO I LOOK LOUD? HOW DO I LOOK LOUD? IM LOUD? I DON’T EVEN THINK IM LIKE LOUD. Suck my ass.”

                                                          --

Tweet: @nympho Watching that Ecthelion dude drown in the movie, made me develop a new kink of wanting to pee on his face.

Ecthelion: “...What the fuck?”

                                                          --

Tweet: @chadchadchaddaddy Legolas looks like a hipster piece of shit and I’m going to fight him.

Legolas: “You seem like a well adjusted person. Come at me and let’s keep count.”

[dialux]

I’ve been going on a reading binge of all your Tolkien Women fics, and I cannot stop thinking about Indis. As a consequence I’ve created a headcanon that hurts my heart and I am going to inflict it upon you because this is clearly your fault.

Indis is one of those people just meant to be a parent, it fits her so well everyone knew it was just a matter of time before she became one. And once she gets married she tries so hard to be there for Feanor despite her own grief, but he won’t let her in. She has her kids and everyone congratulates her on having four (four!!) wonderful children, but in her heart she has five. Because Feanor might not have let her into his heart, but she certainly let him into hers, and she will always think of him as her eldest son.

It will haunt her to the end of all days and beyond, that he was always her son but she could never truly be his mother, and on her bad days she thinks that every catastrophe and death of the first age can be laid at her feet for not succeeding in the one thing everyone said was her speciality.

Okay, so a) fuck you, b) fuck you, c) fuck you. This story is basically just saying that, only in more euphemistic terms, anon.

...

Once, there were three: a woman with fair hair, a man with fair eyes, a woman with fair skin. 

...

The woman with fair skin is captured and taken by the Dark One to his fortress, where she languishes for long weeks in grief and agony. She is not turned, even as those captured alongside her become evil beings, twisted and gruesome and cruel. Melkor wonders why this woman- this limpid-eyed, weeping girl- can withstand what no other has managed.

He does not get the chance to find out.

The woman with fair hair storms Utumno. She drags her sister out alongside whoever is left of their people. But the fair-skinned woman collapses only a few days’ from the chill of Utumno, and she shows her sister the secret she expended all her fea upon: a child, a fair-haired, fair-eyed, fair-skinned girl.

Intyale the Fair-Haired buries her sister Indis in a cave of glittering light. Then she takes the child down to her people, and she bids her brother, fair-eyed Ingwe, to watch their niece. Indis he names her, for the mother she will never know, and he raises her as his own daughter, this girl who bears the brightest things of all his family.

...

She is the daughter of all three of them. Of Indis the Slain, and Intyale the Bright-Speared, and Ingwe the Grand. Indis bears one woman’s name and another woman’s steadiness and a man’s strength. She is the princess of the Vanyar. She will always be that.

She will always remember how desperately her mother fought to keep her alive. Hidden in Utumno, chanting song after song of hiding and cleaving and darkness, straining for one more moment- one more moment- to keep the little babe at her breast alive- defying Melkor himself- 

The Vanyar suffer the greatest of the losses to the Dark One before ever Orome comes to them. They- none of them, not from the eldest down to the youngest child- will ever trust Melkor ever again.

She was born in grief. 

The Doom that Namo places- it is shocking, it is pitiless, it is cruel. But then Alqualonde still rings with the laments of the Teleri. But then, Finwe is dead. Melkor has taken not just one from Indis’ life. 

She was born in grief, and, as one by one her children too learn that taste, she wonders: Perhaps the doom is my own.

...

When she is very young, she asks Intyale: What did I get from my mother?

And Intyale- this, Indis remembers very, very well- had paused, and considered, and then said, Her silence.

...

From Indis her mother, she receives silence. From Ingwe, she receives the knowledge of ruling and leadership. From Intyale- 

-from Intyale, she receives the strength of will to remain unbowed.

...

Indis loves Miriel with the kind of love of a calf for its mother: overwhelmingly, adoringly, all-consumingly. She spends hours with Miriel, learning to weave those tapestries, hands tangled in thread of silk and cotton and wool, eyes affixed to the wall just as often as she watches the silver spirals of Miriel’s hair.

The Noldor tend to craft to show their passion for the world, but Indis has nothing of that: she is a fair dancer, a well-versed scholar, a singer of surpassing talent. None of them call to her more than the rest.

She aids Miriel often, now that the building of Tirion is almost complete. Indis enjoys sitting with her and with Finwe, sipping a salty-hot tea as the light changes from gold to silver; she often falls asleep there, slumped over in her chair, and returns only at the second Mingling to Ingwe’s abode.

...

This is what they all forget about Miriel’s death: it was slow.

Slow and lingering and painless. She had dignity unto the end. Finwe clutched her hand until it could not be held. Little Feanaro is the only person in all of Aman, they say, who has lost his mother.

Indis bites her tongue until it bleeds, and does not speak.

...

Intyale dies upon the hills of the Ered Luin. Indis is still young in those days, not quite an adult and not quite a child. Three children are gamboling near the water, and there is- something. Not quite something, but not quite nothing either. Intyale realizes before anyone else, and flings herself forwards, bare-handed.

Bare-chested.

The water boar is driven backwards into the river. Indis grabs the children. Two maiar run, grasp the situation, calm the boar down with songs. Intyale emerges from the river dripping.

She collapses upon the sand, and Indis is there in heartbeats: Intyale is the only mother she remembers, distant and proud though she may be. When she dares to let her eyes drift to Intyale’s chest, everything tightens up inside of her. Her mother is rent open, from breast to belly. 

“No,” says Intyale, and reaches up, and grips Indis’ chin tighter than she ought to be able to, so close to death’s door. “Look at me, little one. We are more than our flesh.”

“You are dying,” whispers Indis, trembling.

“Yes,” says Intyale bluntly. “Call for Ingwe.”

Not for the maiar, who might save her. And not for the Valar either. Intyale has given up: Indis doesn’t realize this until later, but her mother- her aunt- would not have called for Ingwe had she not been determined to join the sister she watched fall.

Intyale forces Ingwe to swear to care for Indis as he would his own daughters. Then she asks for her spear, and to be burned until even her bones show no ash. She tells everyone who her sparse belongings must go to. And then, fingers clutching the bone-spear, she dies.

...

(Feanor, too, burns. Half her family burns to death, Feanor and Fingolfin and Fingon and Turgon and Maedhros and- and- and-

That fire is not of Finwe alone. Fire can be taught to catch, and Feanor never burned quite so brightly to anyone else as he did for Indis and her usurpation of his sainted mother. No: the fire is Indis’ inheritance, and Indis’ gift.)

...

Intyale does not tell anyone who her bone-spear should be given to. Indis finds herself holding onto it, and somehow never lets go.

...

This is what they forget: Miriel was the first to die in the peace of Valinor. 

The second is Finwe.

...

Feanaro has lost his mother, but Indis will become that mother if he will allow it. She would wish for nothing more. Of course she wishes for nothing more. 

But he does not.

Indis watches him when he does not realize. She can see it- the grief, the loneliness. He is a little boy, and Finwe is not half the father he would wish to be, and there are impossible things in this world that Indis wants- her mother, her Miriel, her peace- but most of all she just wants little Feanaro to be happy, to know happiness and joy and trust in it instead of fearing the joy will turn cold and dead in his arms.

...

Miriel had been- quickly angered.

So had Finwe. So do most of the Noldor. Indis is patient enough not to pay much attention to it. 

Well. She is patient.

...

Miriel had been easily provoked into greatness. A few insults, a carefree comment- Miriel would sit at her loom and weave, something ever-greater and ever-better. Even now, the finest gown in Indis’ keep is one that she received from Miriel the day after she spent hours insulting Miriel’s taste in fabric.

Indis would have done that to her in those awful weeks after Feanaro’s death. She would’ve gone in and insulted Miriel to within an inch of her life, made her so breathless with rage that Miriel would have levitated out of her bed to strike Indis about the face. 

But Este’s healers- called in when the labor lasted for more than two days- refused to hear of it, and Indis could only watch as Finwe’s face went whiter by the hour and all they heard from the sickroom were little Feanaro’s wails and the healers’ murmurs. She obeys the Valar: she watches Miriel fade into Lorien, and never return.

Little Feanaro is all that’s left of Miriel. 

She is certain that he’s very much like her, too.

...

Feanaro thinks that his dislike of Indis comes from her marriage to his father. Perhaps the dislike deepened into hatred then; Indis does not know. What she does know- for she’s ensured it- is that Feanaro hated her well before her marriage.

...

(“I expected better of you,” says Indis, once.

Feanaro is three years old. His eyes are Miriel’s in shape and size and beauty. Indis, determinedly, does not flinch. 

“I’m just doing with Rumil taught me!” he exclaims.

“In Valmar,” says Indis, “children learn their letters by the time they turn a year old.”

Feanaro flushes red. “I don’t like these letters. They don’t make sense.”

“Then make your own,” says Indis, careful not to let sympathy seep into her voice.

She does not smile when the news percolates through Valinor of Feanor’s Tengwar. She does not smile, but oh, oh: how she wants to!)

...

This is what they do not see: Feanaro is young, and while fire is forever dangerous, while fire is forever alluring, it is too easy, far too easy, to stamp it out. Especially when it is young. Especially when it is small.

Indis would have been the shelter to that little flame if he would have allowed it. But he will not, so all she can do is throw fuel onto the fire. Chaff and dross and dried straw: insults and backhanded compliments and petty slights. If Feanaro will not let her protect him, then she will build him so high that none will ever be able to strike him down.

(Letting him die was never an option.)

...

Finwe dies, and they leave, and then Feanaro dies, and then Findis disappears, and then Nolofinwe dies, and then Arafinwe comes to her, for the first time since his father’s body burned in Tirion’s courtyard.

“We have been given leave to go to Beleriand,” says Arafinwe quietly, solemnly. “Morgoth shall be defeated and thrown into the Void. The Vanyar shall all come, by King Ingwe’s decree.”

“Is there something you wish to ask me, then?” asks Indis gently.

Arafinwe swallows, one reflexive jump of his throat. “Will you join me?”

Indis rises. Steps away. Goes to her bedroom and plucks it from the wall, and returns in time to see her darling son’s shoulder slump with frustration. 

“I will not,” she says. Arafinwe jumps, startled. Indis steps closer to him and presses the bone-spear into his palms. “I will not return, Arafinwe, to that land. Already it has taken much from me. I will not offer it more.”

“But-”

“Take this,” says Indis. “It is your grandmother’s.”

Surprise glitters in his pale eyes. “I have a sword.”

“This has already held off Morgoth once,” says Indis. “There are tales that will never be told, of the courage of the elves that never saw the Blessed Isles. Intyale Bright-Speared was your grandmother named, and well-named was she! This spear held Morgoth back long enough to release prisoners in the depths of Utumno before ever Orome saw us, long enough to let Intyale’s sister flee. Long enough for Intyale’s sister to hand the child in her arms over to Intyale.

“The sister’s name is Indis,” says Indis. “I was that child. I was named for her.”

Arafinwe stares at her. “You speak so rarely of them.”

“I’ve no desire to relive tragedy for the rest of my life,” says Indis flatly. “Now come. You’ll need to learn how to use that, if you wish to hold Morgoth hostage!”

...

Perhaps she began this, when she chose this path.

Perhaps she could have averted this.

But Indis is the daughter of Intyale, and it will be her bone-spear held to Morgoth’s throat at the end of this awful, deathful road, and if nothing else- if nothing else- she has the will to remain unbowed, this girl born in the shadow of Utumno, this woman who watched all those around her fall as wheat before a scythe, this mother who would rather her children loathe her than die, this daughter who has lost both mothers and knows, bitterly, the whole of that unfathomable loss.

...

That is what she tells Feanor, finally, when he returns to life.

There is something thoughtful in his gaze. He nods, and returns, a week later, and when she blithely tells him that his sons have inherited his monotonous fashion sense, Feanor flushes, and then pauses, and then says, carefully, “I’d rather it be monotonous than Finarfin’s gaudiness,” and Indis drinks her tea- salty-hot, just as she likes it- and she says, smiling, “I am glad you can be taught.”