#Minyarussa or Atyarussa

[polutrope]

hello, I read your amrod and amras post with interest (I actually did have it the wrong way around in my head…), but now I’m wondering which one of the two is the one with darker red hair? I remember reading somewhere that one of the twins’ hair darkened as he aged, but I don’t have the shibboleth (which I’m guessing this is from), and would like to get this correct in the future.

re:

Amras!

The twins remained alike, but the elder grew darker in hair, and was more dear to his father. After childhood they [?were not be] confused.

And yes, it's from the Shibboleth of Feanor, in Christopher's commentary on the legend of Amrod -- where (as you now know!) Amras is the elder.

Now, I got this detail about the hair wrong in my own fic about Lightly Toasted Amrod. Oops.

I should emphasise that I don't think there's an objectively "wrong" version here because we're mixing up canons. In your and others' defense, Tolkien Gateway for a while had Amras as Telufinwe, etc. -- but I see someone has updated that! There's now a great breakdown of their names there. Thank you to whoever heroically submitted that edit. (Alas my brain is too saturated to figure out how to edit the wiki. I really should learn.)

In revisiting this passage, I've been reminded that it seems Tolkien reversed their birth order specifically because of this story that he invented to explain the name Ambarto/Amrod. So it was clearly meaningful to him that Amrod was the baby in this version. I assume Christopher chose to keep the previous birth order (Amrod, Amras) because he did not choose to integrate the ship-burning death of Amrod in the Silmarillion (a choice I applaud - wrote a bit about how hard that would have been here).

Thanks for the ask!

[actual-bill-potts]

PROMPT TIME can I have some m&m and “enduring grief and anger in silence” please!!

hehe yes beloved <3

TW for discussion of death and funeral practices

Nelyo had not cried once after Atar’s death.

He had wept, bitterly and without comfort, after Atyarussa had died. There had been a kind of grim satisfaction in Tyelko’s face; Curvo and Moryo had been silent, Curvo tall and straight at his father’s shoulder; Minyarussa had simply stood, swaying, eyes so bright he looked like a sick animal. Makalaurë’s own eyes had been dry; he had been full of fear so hot he felt as though he were burning along with his youngest brother, and in his mind only one thought had circled, round and round like the wheels of an organ-grinder: at least one of us is now safe.

But Nelyo had cried and cried, doubled over on the ground like he was playing again on Atyarussa’s little drum-set, and Minyarussa had stared at his shaking eldest brother with a dull sort of relief on his face. Atar had half-heartedly said, ���Get up,” then shook his head and strode away as Nelyo behind him gasped, “the baby, our littlest one - the baby -”

He had raged at Makalaurë, after. “Why did you not weep? Little Atyarussa! My brother the musician, composer of dirges, can still weep for a pet rabbit lost these hundred years, but not his smallest brother, who we were as fathers to -”

“You were, perhaps,” said Makalaurë, not caring that he was being cruel, not wanting to think about it, “but I had other matters to attend to. In any case, brother, at least he is not here.”

Nelyo’s face had frozen in open shock; but all he had said was a quiet, “It should have been me.”

Only - only now Atar was gone, and it seemed to Makalaurë that some rotted abscess within him had torn open and was draining, for he could not stop crying. There was grief for the father who had lifted him upon his broad shoulders when he was tiny, and swallowed his dislike of the Vanyar long enough to send Makalaurë to Valimar for tutelage - for a little - and taught him his letters. And there was grief for the days of his youth, the bright happy house and his mother’s unshadowed eyes; and finally, finally - where had it been before? - there was grief for his littlest brother, for whom he had fashioned a little violincello and whose piping voice had lifted with him in duets.

It was his turn, now, to lift his voice in mourning; but Nelyo was silent, and refused to help spread what they could gather of Atar’s ashes in the fields that were taking shape by the lake, laying him to rest as close to Cuiviénen as they could manage. He and Minyarussa stood on and watched, twin shadows of Ammë.

Does she grieve for us, he wondered. Will she know he is dead, and did not know whether he meant Atyarussa, or Atar, or himself.

But after, Makalaurë could bear it no more. “Why will you not weep for him? Our father is dead!” he demanded in a whisper in their tent. And then, pouring out of him, “you wept more for Findekáno, who is alive! Atar will not see the hills of Tirion on Túna again, nor Finwe his father; he is Doomed, and all of us with him! Will you not weep! For us, if not for him!”

“He murdered my brother,” said Nelyo, quite casually, “why should I weep? As for the rest, we have been Doomed a long time since, and I shall not grieve twice what I was commanded not to grieve once. I will fulfill our Oath; is that not enough?”

Makalaurë blinked back tears, again, and said, “Not for me; where is my brother?”

“He died on the ships,” said Nelyo; and they did not speak again until the messenger from Moringotto came.

[dalliansss]

‘and score one for team awesome. that's us. ❜

↠ 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐄 .

Amras pouts as he lowers his longbow. The target, a massive black-fur titan rabbit, had eluded him yet again. The elder twin is almost tempted to call this cheating, and at the back of his thoughts there is already the beginning of doubt niggling at his mind: what if they were chasing a maia? Uh? But if it WAS a maia, then the maia would not hesitate to let its displeasure known. So the titan rabbit had to be an ordinary creature. Had to be.

Amrod pulls up beside his brother, nose already wrinkled. "It escaped you again, Minyarussa! This is impossible! Nothing escapes you! What is going on? Are you hexed today?"

"Be quiet, Atyarussa," Amras continues to pout as he sends his horse galloping forward, his brother easily keeping up.

"You do know Turko will be mightily upset if we come back empty-handed," Amrod chirps.

"It was not me who ruined the ham he prepared for supper today! I wasn't even in the house! It was all you, Atyarussa!"

"I was asked to cook the ham, Minyarussa!"

"You know you can't cook hams! You can only be trusted with greens and fruits-- salads! Salads! Why must I be inconvenienced for something you on your own did?!"

Amrod has an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Come on, Minyarussa. We are team awesome. Score one for team awesome. That's us. You wouldn't leave your brother in a time of need?" Amrod prepares to pull his most convincing puppy expression, complete with quivering lower lip and sniffling. "Do we not strive to be like the best brothers of our house? Like Nelyo and Kano, like Finno and Arakáno, and like Ingoldo and Aikanár? We're the best brothers there are! So--"

"---and so quit your dramatics, Atyarussa, or I shall shove you off your horse, and dunk you in quicksand, see if you like it!"

Amrod snickers as Amras sends his horse galloping faster, to be away from him.

"Minyarussa, you can't get away from me, ai! We're twins! Wait up!"

"Sod off!"

[thegreatstrongbow]

📝+ Melkor or Ambarussa?

Send 📝+ a character for me to try writing them!

Dread shrouded him, might clothed him, power crowned him - above all mortals he towered, mightiest lord of all Arda. His moods were strange of late - the lord of Angband had grown sharp and quick to anger in his pain and frustration, though once he had had a mind more swift and cunning than even his lieutenant.

But some things still made him smile. The elf-maiden cowered before him, on her knees, as she pleaded for the chance to sing for him. A beautiful treasure for his collection. Her presence pleased him well. And music - oh, he had never forgotten his love for Music, though so far no elf bard had ever come close to good enough in his opinion.

"Very well, Tinúviel. Thou may sing, and if thy song is pleasing, perhaps thou shalt not die."

***

Neldoreth was silent. The birds no longer sang. An elf crept along the tree, his movement hardly noticeable to any but his twin, who moved along the other side of the path. Was he Atyarussa, or was he Minyarussa? Sometimes he was not sure if there was a difference.

The gates of Menegroth lay unguarded and open. He saw his twin's ears twitch at the sound of weeping from inside. He saw the hesitation in their eyes, and reached out, a gloved hand on their chest. I am with you as I have always been. What I do, you will do. Inseparable, unbreakable. Ambarussa's smile was full of too sharp teeth.

Ahead of their brothers, the hunters slipped inside.

[eleneressea]

well, since y'all insist…

Fëanáro cast his eyes over his sons, silently tallying them. There was Curufinwë holding Tyelperinquar, and Makalaurë, Carnistir and Tyelkormo, and Minyarussa…there was Atyarussa, straggling behind. Where was Maitimo? His eldest was usually the first to dismount a horse or leave a carriage, tallying his brothers by Fëanáro’s side. He looked over the assembled elves, searching for red hair.

There he was, looking pale and drawn. His robes were looser than he usually wore them and he was swaying on his feet. None of the others seemed so affected by the sea.

“You look terrible,” Fëanáro said, the words landing more harshly than he meant them to. He winced and gentled his voice. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just tired.”

“Tired,” Fëanáro repeated. He certainly looked tired, but there was no reason he should be so exhausted. Maitimo swayed like a leaf in the wind, eyes closing for a moment.

And then, like a puppet with cut strings, he fell forward into Fëanáro’s arms.

and now I'm thinking about Maitimo getting pregnant just before he and Findekáno separate for a while—maybe it's right before Fëanor's exile, so they're at odds—and so Maitimo is trying to hide a pregnancy while also trying to nurture the child's fëa alone, which is very tiring for elves, and Fëanor, who has trauma about very tiring pregnancies, finds out

[mandhos]

Ambarussa because it can be one or both.

[theelvenhaven]

Pumpkin Carving Customs

Ambarussa x human!Reader

2k words

Request: Hiiii!! I was thinking for Halloween requests, I thought maybe something sweet with the Ambarussa about pumpkin carving ? Either them being introduced to it or us all being ecstatic that it’s finally autumn since the pumpkins have grown and we can finally carve them with funny/spooky faces? - @nerdyely 

* * * 

You set down the last pumpkin on the table with a heavy thud, one that made the table shake slightly under the weight of the gourd. This year, you had spent time cultivating the pumpkins where they’d grow large enough you could make jack-o-lanterns out of them. A custom that was innately human and not something the elves really took part in. 

You wondered if they ever even noticed the seasons passing them by unless it was cold or hot. Lost in your thoughts you turned from the table and to the box of different tools that you had, looking for serrated blades of different sizes so you could carve the pumpkins as you desired. Hearing the sound of the cabin door open and knowing the twins had entered and quickly you were subjected to their curiosity. 

Amrod coming over to look over your shoulder to see what you were doing, and out of the corner of your eyes you could see Amras looking the three pumpkins over. Scratching his head, surely with confusion as he looked at them. 

“I think three pumpkins is a bit much for dinner…” He said to you, leaving you to laugh out in response as Amrod moved to examine and try to piece together what it was you were trying to do. 

“We are not eating them, we are carving them.” You explained to him, setting your knives and spoons down on the table standing in between the twins. Both furrowing their brows at your words and with a frown on their face. 

“What for?” Amrod spoke up this time, looking down at you as you casually set the knives out on the table around the pumpkins. Dividing the tools up evenly so everyone would have what they needed, you even had rags set out to wipe hands and bowls for pumpkin guts. 

“To ward off the evil spirits that come on Hallows Eve!” You explained it so casually, yet Amrod and Amras merely looked between each other. Even though they were so accustomed to your company and your human behaviors, there were still some customs that caught them off guard every now and again. This was certainly one of those times as surely carved pumpkins couldn’t be the answer to warding off evil spirits. 

“That is… quite the custom.” You heard Amras mutter out, and you turned to face him as he watched you intensely. 

“Is that why the village sets out pumpkins?” Amrod asked in return, and you smiled with an excited nod! Clasping your hands together for a moment,

“Yes! Now sit! I will need your help! The cabin will need pumpkins this season.” You said, pushing them both to take their seats at the table, both apprehensively obliging you and taking their places in their seats and you standing at the head of the table. Both ellons watched with wide eyes as you grabbed a large knife and worked on cutting into the top of the pumpkin. 

“First! We have to cut the top of the pumpkin off so we can scoop out the insides.” You began explaining to them, struggling with the knife as it jaggedly cut into the tough pumpkin skin. Sawing into it with the serrated blade, with Amrod reaching over to steady your pumpkin while you cut into it. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe we should cut into yours for you.” Amras said moving to stand out of his chair, but you paused in your sawing holding your hand out.

“I’ve got it! I’ve done this plenty of times before.” You assured him before going back to vigorously sawing the top of the pumpkin. Amras merely sat down and began to pick up his own blade and working far more easily and efficiently than you were. 

You finally got the lid off the top of the pumpkin and Amrod began to cut into his, as Amras too was finishing up with the lid of his. You waited for Amrod seeing how carefully he was cutting into his before removing the top and setting it aside. Both watching you reach for a spoon to scoop out the seeds from the inside, and both ellons following your lead. 

“You do this every year in your village?” Amrod asked you as he rolled up his sleeves and beginning to scoop out the pumpkin, with Amras diving in with just his hands. Slapping the material into the bowl in the center of the table. You nodded at his words as you worked, 

“Yes! We usually begin around this time of year along with a few other things for Hallow’s Eve.” You smiled to him, watching as Amrod scooped another big spoonful out of his pumpkin at the same time Amras did. Only for Amras to slap the contents on Amrods hand, making the ellon shudder and shake off his hand with disgust on his face. 

“Oh come now Amrod! You do not react in such a way when gutting a deer!” Amras laughed at his brother's reaction, leaving his twin to frown in response. Amras’ laughter was infectious, leaving you to laugh along with him, scooping out more pumpkin insides. 

“Anyways,” Amrod began emphasizing his word, with a small glare to his brother in response, 

“What other customs do you participate in?” He asked, while you still chuckled along, deciding to finish out your pumpkin with your hands as it was mostly cleared out. 

“Well we wear masks or nice clothes and usually gather together and celebrate.” You began warmly, looking to the bowl that was growing to be piled high with pumpkin guts. 

“That would explain what we came in on last year in the village.” Amrod said bluntly, and you smiled over at him with your brows raised. You could only assume how foreign it must have looked to them, 

“What do you propose we do with all the extra seeds? We certainly do not need that many growing out in the garden next year.” Amras asked you, grabbing a rag to wipe off his hand just as Amrod stood to double check the inside of his gourd to make sure it had been sufficiently cleaned out. 

“We can always bake them? It is what mother did with them.” You answered them thinking back on fond memories of doing this with your parents and siblings. Before he could answer, Amrod spoke up;

“The pumpkins are cleaned out, now what?”

“We draw faces on them and carve out the faces!” You explained reaching for a knife, not really needing a drawing in place having so much experience doing this. 

“Does it need to be anything in particular?” Amrod asked you,

“A scary one, so it will ward off the malevolent spirits.” 

“Ah at that rate I shall carve Amrod’s likeness for he is scary enough.” Amras cackled out reaching for a piece of charcoal to begin working on his pumpkin, leaving you to laugh out in response. You looked to the twin who frowned heavily huffing with a sigh, 

“At least I will not need a mask to hide how frightening my face is at this gathering!” Amrod retorted, a smirk finding his lips at his rebuttal in satisfaction as Amras looked up from his pumpkin flabbergasted. While you worked on carving away with the two bickering at each other. Leaving you to laugh at their words. 

“We will see which one the villagers run frightened from come the gathering.” Amras grumbled out angrily, sketching forcefully on his pumpkin and looking away from Amrod. While Amrod began to look over your shoulder, watching you carve out simple triangles for what he could only assume were eyes. A jagged toothy grin was next on your mental list, but you looked to Amrod instead,

“Does it not need to be intricate? What are the shapes for?” He pressed practically resting his head on your shoulder to stay leaned over.

“No it doesn’t need to be intricate, but the triangles are eyes and then I am going to do a big jagged mouth.” You explained to him, while Amras scoffed,

“So I don’t have to carve out all of Amrod’s ugliness?” He asked peering over his pumpkin with a brow raised, Amrod frowned deeply at his words. Standing and grabbing the heavily bowl of pumpkin guts and dumping it all back into Amras’ pumpkin. Leaving him to cry out in protest!

“I just cleaned this out!!” He yelled jumping up from his spot as guts over filled the pumpkin and onto his clothes and table, with a heavy huff you watched as Amras went right back to scooping out the pumpkin. Again. Laughing at him as you watched, 

“I am going to get you back for this.” He muttered harshly under his breath, while Amrod simply smirked and sat back down to begin drawing on his pumpkin. You caught your breath finally between the laughs and went back to carving focusing on the mouth. The three of you working in silence, with the sound of scooping and carving filling the room. 

Everyone attentive to the project at hand before you set your knife down and looked over your pumpkin in decision about if you should add anything. There were soft mutters of frustration from both of your carving partners, neither seemingly satisfied with what they were doing. You wondered if they were struggling carving out negative space. 

“Alright I think I am finished.” You said definitively and standing up to fetch a few candles for your pumpkins, while neither ellon seemed to be broken from their trance like state. You disappeared from their sight, digging through the drawers in search of them before finally landing on short enough tapered candles that would fit in them. 

When you came back out both were holding their pumpkins facing one another and seemingly critiquing each work in silence. But both trying to hold in their amusement,

“Well? Let me see?” You said with a smile, candles in hand, before they turned their pumpkins towards you and both had just a collection of holes and no real face to it. You could not contain your laughter, as you were correct in your assumption that they had struggled with it. The two snickering alongside you. Perhaps you hadn’t been that great of an instructor. 

“I do think ours are missing faces.” Amras piped up, though he still looked quite proud of the square and round holes in his pumpkin.

“Let us see yours!” Amrod said curiously, and with that you turned the pumpkin around to face them. Triangular eyes looked back at them with a wide malicious and sharp looking smile with rows of teeth. Both unable to contain their surprise and impressed by what you had accomplished. 

“Fix mine, please?” Amrod was the first to pipe up, setting his pumpkin next to yours, and you nodded.

“How about you Amras? Shall I fix yours too?” You asked beginning to pick up your little knife, but he shook his head.

“No I like it like this.” He chuckled to you, and you nodded. You supposed two pumpkins would be enough to keep the spirits at bay. You began to carve out space making sharp and pointed teeth and menacing looking eyes. With Amrod right over your shoulder watching you intently. 

Amras on the other hand was in the business of trying to set up his candle, but instead searching for candle holders that could be spared for the inside. By the time he got back in his search you had finished, 

“You are good at this.” Amras said approaching you both and setting the candle holders down on the table. 

“Thank you, now lets put our candles in them and set them outside.” You smiled grabbing one of the holders, deciding to take the easier route and placing candles inside. The three of you carrying pumpkins out to the front of the cabin where you arranged them all side by side. Deciding to place Amras’ pumpkin between yours and Amrods- seeing as it would scare nothing off. 

“There!” You said backing away to look it over happily, both brothers satisfied with what they had done. 

“Perfect, spirits will certainly stay away now. Now lets go cook those seeds.” Amras said just as quickly walking indoors. You simply laughed and followed right behind him, ready to show them the other ways that you celebrated Hallows Eve.

* * * 

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @someoneinthestars @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma​  @nerdyely @thegirlwithoutaname87​ @anunexpectedsideblog​ @achasiel​

[arofili]

Discarded Names for the House of Finwë

Someone on the SWG Discord asked if there was a list of discarded names and concepts for the House of Finwë, and I knew the idea wouldn’t let me alone until I compiled one myself, so here we are!!

Disclaimer: This is not comprehensive; I did my best to to find everything I could, but I didn’t actually scour through HoMe, just Tolkien Gateway and Parf Edhellen! If you know of a name/concept that I missed, let me know and I can add it! Additionally, I did not include every single possible alternate spelling for every name, though I did include some.

I hope this list is helpful for people who would like to re-incorporate these names and concepts back into their personal canon, or to create Finwean OCs, or just to learn more about the shaping of the Legendarium! I know I learned a thing or two!!

~~~

ALTERNATE NAMES

Unless otherwise indicated, these are names Tolkien used or considered before he settled on the version of the name that appears most frequently in canon.

Finwë :: Finu, Nólemë, Golfinweg (the latter two names were attached to a character who later split into both Finwë and Fingolfin)

Míriel :: Indis (who fell and died in a crevasse; only later did Indis appear as Finwë’s second wife)

Fëanor :: Daurlas → Daurin Tórin, Fionor, Phayanaro

Nerdanel :: Istarnië

Maedhros :: alternate spellings including ai or ei in place of ae &/or ð or d in place of dh; Maidros (meaning “pale-glitter”), Maenros, Maedron (actually a later concept)

Maglor :: Maelor

Celegorm :: Celecormë (linguistically related to Oromë), Celegorn

Caranthir :: Cranthir, Cranthor, Carastir / Carathir

Amras :: Díriel, Amros (actually a later name), Minyarussa

Amrod :: Damrod, Nambarauto (“hammerer of copper”), Atyarussa

Fingolfin :: Nólemë, Golfinweg, Fingolma, Ingolfin (linguistically related to Inglodo), Golfin son of Gelmir

Anairë :: Alairë

Fingon :: Fini(c/k)áno, Findi(c/k)áno, Finion, Fingorn, Finweg, Fingweg, Finbrand

Turgon :: Turondo, Sarafinwë

Elenwë :: Alairë → Anairë (this name was later given to the wife of Fingolfin)

Idril :: various alternate spellings using ð or đ in place of d &/or Í in place of the first I; Idhril and its Q. cognate Írildë (meaning “mortal maiden” as a reference to her marriage to Tuor; later “Írildë” became the name of a Númenórean woman), Tal-Celeb, Taltelepta (a translation of Celebrindal)

Tuor :: Tûr, Túor, “Tuor son of Peleg son of Indor of the house of the Swan of the sons of the Men of the North”

Eärendil :: Eärendel, Yarendl (yes, without a vowel between the d and l)

Elwing :: Ailuvin, Ailwing, Aelwyn; various other spellings

Elros :: Indilzar (which later became Gimilzôr), Elerossë

Elrond :: Elerondo

Aredhel :: Íreth (Sindarin cognate of Írissë), Isfin, Rodwen, Ar-Feiniel, Areðel

Maeglin :: Meglin, Mailin / Mailindo, Glindûr, Targlîn, Morlîn, Morleg

Írimë Lalwen :: Írien, Gladhwen (S. cognate of Lalwendë)

Finarfin :: Ingalaurë, Inglor, Finrod, Finarphin

Finrod :: Felagon, Inglor Felagund, Artafindë

Orodreth :: Rodreth, Artaher and its Sindarin cognate Arothir (actually later names meant to replace Artaresto / Orodreth)

Finduilas :: Findóriel

Gwindor :: Flinding, Findor son of Fuilin

Aegnor :: Aikanár, Eignor, Goenor, Egnor (the son of Rimion and the father of Beren; yes that Beren, in the version where he was a Gnome)

Galadriel :: Altáriel, Ñaltáriel, Caladriel, Galaðriel, Nerwendë

Celeborn :: Teleporno, Telporno

Arwen :: Elrenniel, Elerondiel, Aranwen; Parf Edhellen also says that Tolkien changed her name in the following order: Ellonel → Finduilas → Emrahil → Arwen

Gil-galad :: Ñgillingalati, Finellach, Finwain (in addition to the more widely-known names Ereinion and Artanáro / Rodnor)

~~~

DISCARDED CHARACTER CONCEPTS

Maidros :: a grandfather of Fëanor (and great-grandfather of Fëanor’s son Maidros) Bruithwir :: the son of Maidros and father of Fëanor; Tolkien also considered making him Fëanor’s brother Daurin Tórin :: a Fëanor-esque figure, sometimes replacing Fëanor and sometimes existing alongside him

Finvain :: a daughter of Finwë and Indis Faniel :: a daughter of Finwë and Indis Finrun :: a son of Finwë; alt. Felageómor

Findobar :: a son of Fingon; alt. Findabar Finbor :: a son of Fingon and brother of Erien Erien :: a daughter of Fingon and sister of Finbor

Meril :: the wife of Finrod (pre-Amárië)

Hallas :: a son of Orodreth Orodlin :: a son of Orodreth and brother of Haldir Haldir :: a son of Orodreth and brother of Orodlin; altered from Halmir; both Haldir and Halmir later became names for Chieftains of the Haladin

ETA: Hallas is NOT actually a son of Orodreth; this is an unsubstantiated claim with no evidence first made on Tolkien Gateway and then spread elsewhere.

Amroth :: Tolkien briefly considered making him the son of Galadriel and Celeborn, but this was later discarded

[growingingreenwood]

I was wondering if you could explain why Amrod and Amras are also called Ambarussa?

Yes! I absolutely can!! 

High Elves (so the one’s that lived in Valinor before the first age) have more than one given name throughout their lives. 

1) The Father Name: Chosen by father, usually based on some sort of legend or the fathers own name. This name is usually used until an Amilessë is bestowed (or in conjunction with)

2) Amilessë (mother-name): Chosen by the mother, often times based on some sort of phrofic knowledge they have of their children's personalities/looks/life. They usually know it right when the kid is born, but don’t tell anyone until years later. 

3) Epessë (after name): Usually honorific in some manner to represent a deed, act, or position they hold. 

4) Kilmessë (self name): Which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. 

The twins' mother-name was originally Ambarussa for the both of them, but Feanor insisted that they have separate names. 

So Nerdanel changed one of their names to Umbarto instead, meaning "The Fated" (he would end up being the first son of Feanor to die) but Feanor changed it to Ambarto meaning "Upwards exalted," because the name she gave their son disturbed him. 

Amrod is the Sindarian translation of Ambarto

Amras kept the mother name originally intended for the both if them. 

Amras is the Sindarian translation of Ambarussa 

Before either of them even left Valinor they were given an Epessë (after name) that most people used instead of their mother or father names:

Amras = Minyarussa, which means "First-Russa" 

Amrod = Atyarussa, which means "Second-russs" 

However, the twins always called one another 'Ambarussa' no matter what name either of them was supposed to have, and I believe many of their brothers used it when referring to both if the twins at once.

Does that makes sense?? 

[kyelek]

𝐎𝐧 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

a little bit about tyelko and his siblings, his relationships with them in an overview, and ( slightly more deeply ) his relationship with curufin.

First, on names: ( maybe it’s been apparent in my rps, I do have my own thoughts and formulae that I try to stick with after all ) Celegorm usually calls his elder two brothers by their mother-names. respectively Maedhros he’ll call Maitimo and Maglor he’ll call Makalaurë, both talking to them as well as to others of them*. His younger brothers Caranthir and Curufin are Morifinwë and Curufinwë, by their father-names. Ambarussa, again on the other hand, are Ambarussa to Celegorm as well. The explanation is this: Both Maedhros and Maglor were known to Celegorm by their mother-names from the beginning ( aka when he was born ), most often went by them** and so would have spoken of themselves most often and moved their little brother to call them the same. As for his younger brothers, the father-name is usually the name given soonest, the name an Elf is earliest known by earliest; so it’s a habit hard to break. Regarding Ambarussa, we know there was much debate on their names between their parents, but we also know that they called each other the same between the both of them and – I would wager Celegorm more or less simply picked their and their mother’s “side” in calling them ( except shortened names, Minyo and Atyo, and as they were most often called Minyarussa and Atyarussa in their days in Aman ).

----- [ *1) There are some exceptions to this, for him at least; speaking to his mother and father Celegorm also speaks, to them, of his brothers respectively by their mother- or father-names. Joining Fëanor in exile at Formenos, for example, it’d seem he abandons his own and his brothers’ mother-names entirely from use.

**2) I might be author’s intent-ing this but – we know the father-name was an Elf’s official name, even if no other name was known ( or preferred ). But we do know the mother-names of the sons of Fëanor and most of their Sindarized names, also, are clearly derived from their mother-names ( Celegorm’s as well ), so I would guess they preferred their mother-names in their daily-lives in Valinor as well. ] -----

On relationships among the seven sons: Celegorm is closest to Curufin, as we are plainly shown, told, etc. and it goes to assume also close to the twins since they are mentioned almost in the same breath when introduced and share an interest. More on Curufin specifically later. Then as for–

Maedhros: the eldest, and thus in age somewhat more removed from Celegorm, he understands to hold against that awfully volatile temper, or at least how to endure it. And Celegorm finds, then, even his reprimands not so harsh when his eldest brother points them out because he has been so often shown that there is goodwill behind that. That’s not to say that they don’t have their points of contention; Celegorm is one of the hardiest disagreers with Mae’s decision to give up the kingship of the Ñoldor, and they differ vastly in their understanding of the events at Nargothrond ( as well as in my survival verse, leaving Dior’s sons behind ). Maedhros doesn’t fail to fulfil his wise-older-brother role with Celegorm. And Celegorm has an appreciation for the more tender moments between them, and the things unsaid... On a slightly less gentle note, Celegorm does feel a lot of guilt ( more than Maglor, he might argue, and yet not argue because he won’t speak of it ) for deciding not to pursue Morgoth’s offer or to attempt his brother’s rescue from Thangorodrim. In fewer words, Celegorm holds fast to the authority Maedhros has as the eldest.

Maglor: I would argue Celegorm and Maglor are the least close; in terms of shared interests, they don’t seem to have (m)any, and neither does Maglor seem too easily swayed by Celegorm’s moods and attempts on his ( like Caranthir ) that this side would be entertaining in a way. I think they can easily come together over some certain music, but clearly they prefer other company. However, ultimately they also come to share the burden of deciding Maedhros’ doom at Thangorodrim; in those 30 years, maybe they stray closer to each other than ever before and after; misery loves company.

Caranthir: Like already briefly touched on, Celegorm’s own temper lends itself to riling up Caranthir. And I can not get around mentioning again at this point, but I do believe Caranthir received unfair narrative bias and was not in fact the most volatile among his siblings, so that title would stay with Celegorm. However, I do think that Celegorm had a special talent for riling him up ( though at times then twisting it around on himself ), and that it was worse still for being his most immediate younger brother; Celegorm had a lot of teasing to try on him. Still I think they’re fully able to share peaceful moments together, and certainly that Celegorm doesn’t always mean ill towards Caranthir, doesn’t only tease him.

I’ll skip Curufin to talk about him more extensively in a second.

Ambarussa: Though already having an equal number older and younger brothers by the time the twins are conceived, he surely didn’t not wish for them. At the latest with Curufin, Celegorm fell comfortably into his role as an older brother and he certainly looked forward to the prospect of more such. Bittersweet when their father named them with being the last two in mind. Like Celegorm they like to hunt, and there is lots they can share in from that – unlike with Caranthir or Curufin. Undoubtedly they went out much together still in Valinor, and I don’t think their placement in Beleriand was for a sudden misalignment so much as a tactic to move the youngest of the family furthest from harm’s way. As Celegorm left Himlad to ride with Caranthir at whiles, he also visited the Ambarussa that way south. -----

Curufin gets his own section because ... Because he is plainly who Celegorm is closest to among his brothers. They may not share interests as much, but they surely share ambition and greatest likeness to their father ( Curufin for his name, his skills of course, and while Maglor is mentioned for his voice Celegorm is mentioned for his voice specifically in relation to Fëanor ); that also later turns them into the most vicious of the brothers... more on that in a moment.

Curufin is very much the quiet cunning counterpart to Celegorm’s louder voice and forward moods and actions, but neither are they dull to each other’s temperaments nor unwilling to play on them. Specifically in trying to take over rule in Nargothrond they constantly play off of one another to move the people there over onto their side and you can’t say it doesn’t work until the very end. They look quite different each if looked at superficially, but I think being the two with greatest likenesses to their father it’s plain that they would best get along ( not always the most easily, but as in complimenting each other’s strengths ). 

While Maedhros understands better to soothe or at least somehow handle Celegorm’s temper, I don’t think Curufin often needs to try to accommodate it despite the understanding he might bring up for it. Curufin besides having the penchant to understand from their father’s likeness in each other, also has the benefit of being the younger brother – and on top of that being the second younger brother to Celegorm. By the time Curufin is conceived I think Celegorm has better fallen into the “role” of it – maybe dejected that Caranthir did not share his interests so much, even though Curufin doesn’t, on the surface, seem to either, he has come to greater acceptance of that fact and an understanding in where and how they do have things in common.

Frankly also – being most like their father both – obviously Fëanor was greatly loved by all seven. Perfectly being their own people, still seeing the likeness of him in each other must be some comfort.

They might not always balance each other, then, and become a “milder” more neutral force in that process, no, but they certainly compliment each other and bring out their greatest feats and skills ( for better or worse, whoever is on the receiving end ).

[tolkien-feels]

No, no, no, but here's the genius of it. They won't lose track of it.

Minyarussa is the father, Atyarussa is the son. Why else would they be called first and second, Tyelpe?

Concept: Ambarussa teasing tiny Tyelpe by making him believe they are father and son, like Feanor and Curufin are

[skyinwires]

The Silmarillion characters - Amras (Telufinwё, Ambarussa, Minyarussa) and Amrod (Pityafinwё, Ambarussa, Atyarussa, Amarthan)

“...and the youngest Amrod and Amras, who were twin brothers, alike in mood and face. In later days they were great hunters in the woods of Middle-Earth...”  

[theelvenhaven]

Headcanons about Ambarussa’s Humor

- When it comes to Ambarussa’s humor the twins mostly keep it between themselves and their siblings. 

- With the fact that the twins spend so much time together and away in the forests, they’re more often annoying one another than anyone else. 

- Though Celegorm has absolutely been subjected to their shenanigans when he is hunting with them. 

- Both the twins have an extremely dry sense of humor and thrive off of throwing witty insults around at one another. 

- It always sounds completely serious, and an outsider who isn’t used to it would think that they hate each other!

- “I have seen Huan whittle down an arrow shaft better than you can, and you have a knife dear brother!”

- Other things involve slipping small animals, insects or replacing items with rocks or acorns into bags, pockets, cloaks and most importantly beds or bed rolls!

- Amrod once cut Amras’ hunting trip short by taking out all of the important provisions and stuff rocks in the empty space between his clothes to give him the illusion his pack was still full. 

- Amras is usually the one to take it a much farther step than Amrod is. 

- He once managed to get a very pissed off wolf inside of Amrod’s bedroom in their cabin and locking the bedroom door, so it had to be dealt through a window instead.

- Or another time he managed to put a few snakes in his pillow case- completely nonvenomous snakes might I add. 

- Each time it leaves the brothers resulting in being angry with other and follows along with a wrestling match in retribution for what happened. 

* * * 

tags:

@saviorsong @oathandichor 

@glorfindel-the-golden​ I hope that this is what you were looking for! :)

[theelvenhaven]

Reunions in Arda

Part 1

Vanifinwë x Fëanorians

5.3k words

Warnings: 

Strong language, 

Implied nudity, 

A/N: I changed around in which the news was broken to her! But tada!

* * * 

Exhaustion filled her as she sat atop the mare the elves of her brothers provided her and Nolofinwë. Upon their arrival to Arda, her brothers Pages greeted them, telling them to come and meet with the Fëanorians. With hesitation, Nolofinwë agreed, and Vanifinwë jumped at the chance. She needed to hear the explanation from her brothers on why her brothers did what they did. 

Perhaps even part of her missed them as well. Yet that factor would be decided upon, which would depend on everything they had to say for themselves. What they’d done was completely unforgivable, but she needed to perceive if they held a shred of remorse for what they’d done. Vanifinwë needed to see if her brothers were as heartless as they led her to think they were.

They did the ride in silence and it appeared she was not the only one who was unsure of what to say. Even as their settlement came into view, it only left them somber and quiet. Vanifinwë couldn’t help but wonder how much time passed in their crossing that her brother’s already established houses. Actual houses...

Houses of stone erected in the elvish fashion, though the roads still dirt… A large building coming ever nearer. Grand and ornate as it could be, with few tents established for the artisans who were still there to complete other things. Eru... 

In reserve, she looked to Nolofinwë. The two exchanged a solemn glance. A glance they shared and were both determining they were thinking the same thing about the time passed.

Vanifinwë shuddered as another icy wind ripped through the air. It was nothing compared to the Helcaraxe. Her clothes were still too light even for this “warmer” temperature.

As they came upon the dirt and grass courtyard, and greeted by the sight of five of her brothers. A small fountain behind them, water trickled out, with shrubs around it… Workers bustled about outside working on Eru knew what. Quietly Vanifinwë let her eyes scan over them, Makalaurë stood in the center, clearly the one to greet and welcome them.

Tyelkormo and Curufinwë to her left of Makalaurë, and Minyarussa and Carnistir to her right… All dressed in thick tunics and heavy fur cloaks, each one looked positively warm and comfortable. She’d give anything for dry warm clothes, as it was cold enough her clothes never dried since their arrival from the Helcaraxe. Even though they’d ridden for some time now, the newly fashioned sun hidden behind clouds heavy and swelling with snow which threatened to fall upon them any moment now. 

“Uncle, truly it is good to see you.” Makalaurë began as they dismounted from their horses, turning her gaze to Nolofinwë who sighed, nodding at his nephew’s reception. The warmth in which he’d once have shown them he masked beneath a more stoic and hard exterior now, something they plainly expected. 

“I want to say the same, nephew. But I fear for the moment I do not share the sentiment. Not until I have further explanation as to what all has happened.” Nolofinwë spoke in an even tone, dampening his own anger that he felt swell over the gentleness in which Makalaurë spoke. Vanifinwë noted how none of her brothers seemed to have registered her presence yet, all too fixated in their nervousness upon their Uncle.

“I sure as the Void would love an explanation as well.” She spoke up with a fire in her voice. One that finally unleashed the heat of her hurt through her hroa and fea. She stepped up to be next to Nolofinwë, her head held high despite the shivers that had ripped through her. Surprise rippled through her brothers as their gazes fell upon her form. 

“Vanie! You came!” Makalaurë breathed out with surprise. He moved to step closer, in hopes to embrace her, yet he stopped short of getting any further as she sent a glare in his direction. One that made his blood run cold as their father’s fire blazed with contempt in her gaze, a look he had not seen since before their Atar succumbed to his injuries. 

“Don’t.” She fumed out, not up for any of his affections as she had for years to let the anger she felt over what they had done fester. Not just to her, but to the Teleri, to her Uncle and those who followed him. Makalaurë shouldn’t have been so surprised. Of course she’d be angry. It had been him and Maitimo who had given her the epesse Failendis, and it hadn’t been for nothing.

“Is that anyway to greet us, Vanie?” Tyelkormo scoffed as he tilted his head with a glare shot in her direction, silver hair spilling over his shoulder as he did so. Yet Vanifinwë was unmoved by his sarcastic reaction, only tensing her jaw at his words as if he had any right to complain about how she greeted them. 

“Forgive me if your betrayal hasn’t exactly left the warmest impressions upon me, brother. Where is Atar? And the rest of our brothers, Makalaurë?” Vanfinwe said. Her words dripped with venom as she referred to him as her brother. Nolofinwë’s hand came to her shoulder. He attempted to soothe and comfort her, not wanting for her to lash out any further and be thrown from the settlement. 

“Betrayal!? You are one to speak, dear sister.” Carnistir began out in a hiss as Curufinwë moved to approach. Were Vanifinwë not used to her own arguments with her Atar, she may have felt intimidated by her brothers. 

Yet she was unfazed. How many times had she and Fëanaro gotten into their arguments regarding politics and semantics? How many times had she argued with them or broken up their fights?

“You betrayed us! Refused to take up the oath! Yet you have the audacity to still follow and come here as if you have any right to be here!” Curufinwë seethed out in addition, stopping as Makalaurë held out his hand as he turned some to face his brother.

“Enough brothers...” Makalaure said in a breath, as Curufinwe seemed to relent at his brothers pressing. The tensions had risen at an insurmountable level already, and Vanifinwë had just arrived. Nolofinwë said not a word to address the fire that blazed between siblings. He turned his focus onto the questions Vanifinwë had asked them. Nolofinwe knew it was better to leave those issues between them, she without a doubt knew better than anyone on how to hold her own against them.

Though he confessed to himself, he feared just how far their madness ran. If harm would come to her should they all decide she was a traitor. Vanifinwë may have been their sister, but that didn’t change the fact times were undeniably different.

“Where is my brother? For I would like to speak to him.” Deciding that perhaps he had descended so far into deep madness that he wouldn’t greet him, and the other two Fëanorians were with him. Had Maitimo and Atyarussa bought into their father’s whims now as well? It unnerved him further to see the hesitation that seemed to fall upon the brothers. All five of them looked between each other and then to Makalaurë to answer for them.

“We shall discuss it, both on Atar, Maitimo and Atyarussa. First though, let us extend to you hospitality my Atar had lacked Uncle, sister.” Makalaurë stepped aside and motion for them to walk to enter the center building. Vanifinwë only budged when Nolofinwë did and followed alongside him and Makalaurë. 

“We can discuss it after you both have eaten and changed into something warmer.” Makalaurë insisted, yet Nolofinwë shook his head at his words as they paused in the grand foyer. Boots scuffed against the stone floor, and warmth that grew to be a luxury to them now filled the room. Vanifinwë shuddered with a sigh as she folded her arms over her chest.

“No, I will speak now on whatever it you have to share.” Nolofinwë began with a frown. Rather than argue, Makalaurë nodded at his uncle’s words.

“Very well, then come with me. Vanifinwë, Minyarussa will take you to where you can change and eat.” Yet she gave a severe frown, as she desperately wanted to go with him to know as soon as possible what was going on. Not ready to part from her uncle who she had spent the whole crossing with. For now, he was the only other family member she could confidently trust outside of her cousins. Nolofinwë sensed the obvious hesitance in Vanifinwe and with care placed his hand once more on her shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Go take the time to rest, I will deal with your father.” He said to her tenderly, yet there was firmness there to it. Vanifinwë knew better than to argue with him at this point. He had been the whole reason she had survived the crossing. As several times she had come far too close to losing her life, it was thanks to Nolo that she pushed so hard. At this, she nodded and allowed for her brother to lead her from the foyer.

Minyarussa led her up the staircase and down a hallway in unnatural silence. It felt strained and uncomfortable. It was something that was tense and morose, even in his gait and in his shoulders. Yet Vanifinwë decided against pressing and that the emotional distance she was sharing with her brothers was the best thing for her to do. 

The two came to a door down the long corridor, as Minyarussa motioned for her to open it. Still silent, and those pale blue eyes refused to meet with hers before he left her to enter and change. He didn’t even instruct on where to find, well… anything. 

Vanifinwë opened the door to find a well-furnished bedroom, and she shut the door behind her and locked it. A large double bed in the center of the room with heavy red duvets and soft looking pillows… Something that was so tempting for her to climb upon and just give into the exhaustion that filled her body. 

It had been so long since she had last been in a bed, yet she knew if she sat down now she’d never get out of it and would sleep for days… Maybe even weeks with as tired as she felt. Pressing on she moved to the dresser, one of a warm stained wood, opening it to find elleth’s clothing stuffed inside. Sifting through each drawer to find under garments, skirts, tunics and dresses of heavy material.

Wasting no time, Vanifinwë shed her cold and wet clothes. Letting them pool around her feet as she slipped her arms from the sleeves, before she kicked them off to the side. While so exposed without a fire in the hearth, gooseflesh riddled her skin as she shivered and shuddered. She hurried to slip into the warm fleece undergown, before putting on the gown that went over it. 

Finally, some warmth filled her as she had sufficient and dry clothing to trap her own body heat. Pulling her inky hair from beneath the confinement of her gown, letting it cascade down her back, breathing a sigh of relief, moving to look in the armoire closest to the bed to see if shoes were there.

Pulling it open, she found cloaks and silken gowns hung from hangers in a sea of red and black, with slippers arranged with precision at the bottom in varied sizes. For guests to pick the sizes that they needed. She chose a black pair that were about her size, before hurriedly closing the doors and moved to leave the room just as rushed. Fearful if she stayed any longer than she’d definitely go to sleep. 

But first, before she even considered it, Vanifinwe needed to know where her relatives were and to eat a meal. Vanifinwe hoped it was going to be something hearty and less like... bread. Her mouth watering at the very idea, though she turned her attention to find Minyarussa or the kitchen’s first… 

She walked back through the hall towards the way she entered. Vanifinwe paused as she looked over the tapestries that hung on the wall. With details of the House crest upon them, and details of the ships of the Teleri… Vanifinwe could not decide if they were there to glorify the theft or as a reminder of what they had wrought…

She hoped they were there as a solemn reminder and not for glorification, but for the lack of slaughtered elves and burning of their swan ships… Vanifinwë held her doubts. This did not help with the impression she was under about them for the time, though she wondered if that was perhaps what was so different about Minyarussa.

With a sigh, she moved to the stairs and away from the tapestries; she tried to put her focus elsewhere, wanting first to hear their side of things before she continued to assume. At the bottom she found Minyarussa. With patience he waited for her, standing stone still, and he glanced down at the floor.

Vanifinwë needn’t announce herself, as expectantly Minyarussa walked through the foyer once she descended. He led her into a small and private dining room, a word not spoken as he hurried from the room and through another door. A table standing in the center with just enough chairs for each of the Feanorians present, it was good to see that perhaps they all still did meals together…

Minyarussa had returned not even a few moments later without a sound, setting the bowl down carefully full of a warm stew before Vanifinwë took her place at it. She waited to see if Minyarussa would join her, but once more he left her alone to eat.

She wondered what indeed could’ve transpired to have traumatized him so deeply? Did the effects of the Kinslaying get to him, perhaps? Despite herself, she sympathized if he did, as the memories of what had transpired over the years plagued her every waking moment… Vanifinwë didn’t want to imagine what it would finally be like when she closed her eyes. 

Mindlessly she ate, not even savoring the way any of it tasted. All of her thoughts ran and spilled over themselves, full of questions in relation to her now estranged siblings. Struggling to ignore the slight dread that hung heavy in her stomach of the idea of being rejected further, even if she was furious with everything that they had done. 

Now that she had seen them again, she had the slightest sliver of hope that perhaps they were redeemable. Even if she knew her Atar were not, though, that would be the next hurdle. Dealing with her Atar, who seemed to have so blatantly disowned her before her brothers. She and Nolofinwë had yet to have been thrown from the dwelling, so perhaps this was a good sign. Or did he not mention her to him in fear of what would happen?

Vanifinwë didn’t even know what it was she would even say to him once she saw him… All she felt was just intense anger the more she thought about him and his treatment of other people.

It was as she was down to the last bites of the warm meal that Minyarussa seemed to reappear, waving for her to follow. In her rush did she almost throw her spoon down and feel her heart leap into her throat in anticipation of what was to come. Eagerly she followed right after Minyarussa, who rushed once more through the foyer and down another hall… This place was endless in the halls that it had already…

The two made several twists and turns until they came to another door, with Nolofinwë who stood just next to it in silence. A worried expression on his face. This did not settle the nerves that she felt. Nor did he turn to face and greet her as Minyarussa opened up the door, revealing all four of her brothers that sat in solemn silence. 

Without a word, Vanifinwë moved to take her place in the closest chair to the door. Her eyes ran over all of their figures. Makalaurë stood still and to the left of her, leaned against the wall, looking at the floor. His arms folded over his chest. Silken black hair shielding part of his face, so his expressions were unreadable. 

Carnistir, just across from her on a settee, leaned back with his brows furrowed deeper than usual, though she couldn’t tell if his face was any redder. With the orange glow of the hearth- to their right- exaggerated it, and Curufinwe was just next to him with a tall glass of wine in hand, as he stared Vanifinwe down intensely. With Tyelkormo, who paced behind them with Minyarussa just behind her… Though there was an addition to the room.

Tyelperinquar… A face she definitely hadn’t seen in ages, it felt like. One that she always surprised her. As Tyelperinquar chose not to follow Nolofinwë and herself, considering he took no part in the Kinslaying despite being present for it. 

“Where are Maitimo and Atya? And Atar?” Vanifinwë began, the first to break the silence, leaning back in her chair as she crossed one leg over the other. Watching as Makalaure moved from his place on the wall, 

“They are not here, Vanie.” He answered with simplicity, and with a heavy sigh which made her furrow her brows at his words. She watched them all with suspicion as tension filled the room. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as Vanifinwe thought.

“Well, where are they, Makalaurë?” She pressed her voice still even, despite the dread that filled her stomach, for whatever the answer may be. Makalaure ran a hand through his hair, deep blue eyes transfixed on the hearth before him, unable to face his sister.

“Morgoth captured Maitimo some time ago.” Makalaurë began and at this Vanifinwë felt the air leave her lungs as she sat up with abruptness. Her heart dropped into her stomach with a heavy thud. She stared up at him in utter disbelief, 

“How? Why!” She pressed harder, panic rose in her chest and made its way into her voice. Fear all but consumed her, for the words that may follow and say that he was dead… Her sapphire blue eyes raced to scan her brothers, who all looked away from her, including Curufinwe. 

“He had agreed to meet with Morgoth, after the Dark Vala claimed to surrender a Silmaril… Yet he was told to come alone. Maitimo brought a small embassy with him, despite the request. When he had not returned and we went and searched for him… We found the whole embassy slaughtered, but Maitimo was nowhere to be found.” Makalaure spoke in monotone, numb to the words he was speaking, chills running down Vanifinwë’s spine as she listened to his words in absolute disbelief. 

Tears welled at his words, in her desperation trying to swallow them back at the news he had given her. They spilled over despite herself, and she brought a hand to wipe them away as she no longer could look at her brothers. Devastated for her eldest brother… There was no telling what he was suffering with. If he was still alive. But Vanifinwë didn’t know if she was prepared to hear otherwise. Though that begged to question what happened to Atyarussa…

“And Atyarussa? What happened to him? He is not with Morgoth too, is he?” She asked as she sucked in a sharp breath, unable to help herself. Yet no one said a word just yet, allowing Vanifinwë a chance to express herself before they moved onto the next wave of bad news. Tentatively, Makalaure moved to place his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she cried. 

This time Vanifinwë didn’t distance herself from her brother, taking it as the emotion swelled through her chest painfully. Vanifinwe sniffled and wiped her face over and over again, before Carnistir leaned over with a handkerchief for her to use. 

With care she took it from him and dabbed her face with a heavy deep breath. Nodding as they waited on a signal from her to continue. Though the rest left the sole job of breaking this horrid news to Makalaurë. To tell her what had become of Atyarussa, not that they were a great help in telling her about Maitimo. With a heavy sigh, Makalaurë moved to kneel next to his sister, hand reaching for her small one to hold.

To which she let him take, gripping him in return. There was a long pause, Makalaurë opened his mouth to start, but then second guessed it.

“Makalaurë… what happened to Atyarussa?” She pushed in a whisper as there was an audible gulp he made at her question. Before he spoke, sorrow visible in his eyes,

“Morgoth had not captured Atyarussa.” He began in a low and monotone voice. Makalaure kept it even and refused to meet her gaze as he looked at her hand. Not a soul moved or continued to clarify, leaving Vanifinwë to squirm some in her chair. Heart thudded hard in fear of the words he’d speak next.

“Vanie… Atyarussa was killed.” Vanifinwë inhaled a sharp breath as she brought her hand to her mouth. The sob that left her made them all wince at her response. 

A sharp pang of hurt seared through her, feeling into the very depths of her fëa that her brother had died. It was horrendous. If only she had convinced him and Minyarussa to have stayed with amillë… 

She felt Makalaurë move before he pulled her into him for an embrace. Her head resting against his shoulder while her body shook with heavy sobs. 

Time ticked by, with Vanifinwë clutched snugly to her second eldest brother as she cried. Mourning the losses of her brothers, though her senses and wits came back about her once more.

“How..?” She breathed out, needing to know how it was she lost her brother, as she pulled away from Makalaurë to look at him. Yet still his gaze would not meet hers, and he made no move to speak to her. At this with teary eyes she looked to her siblings, none of which would meet her gaze. Vanifinwë expected for Minyarussa to exhibit such behavior, it was his twin. 

“It is not something you need to know, sister.” Curufinwë spoke up, breaking his silence. His voice quiet as he moved from his place on the settee and to the decanter set just next to Tyelkormo- who had stopped pacing. Vanifinwë was just about to argue,

“Tell her Uncle.” Tyelperinquar spoke up with suddenness and pulled everyone’s attention to him. Bright blue eyes bored into Makalaurë with intensity. Though he was not looking at his nephew, he could feel the gaze on him. Still, he hesitated, and if it could, the anticipation alone would kill her.

“Did one of you do it?” Vanifinwë asked at their intense hesitation. It was the only thing that made sense. Everyone in the room seemed to tense up at her words. At this, she ripped her hand from Makalaurë’s. This prompted him to stand back up and move away from her, 

“I will not repeat myself. If you cannot give me an answer, I will ask Nolofinwë, as I’m sure you told him.” Vanifinwë was correct to have assumed that they had told him, yet it did nothing to ease the mounting tension. Nor bring her that much closer to an answer as the silence continued to blanket over the room for several minutes. Her patience wore thin.

“Atar did it.” Minyarussa answered her and ripped the entire world right out from under her. Vanifinwë looked to her brothers for confirmation, yet again their gazes transfixed elsewhere. Regret clearly plastered to their faces. 

“He did it!? How? Tell me now!” She asked as she stood from her seat with utter disbelief on her face, Vanifinwë’s voice growing louder and laced with fury with every word. 

“He set him on fire. It came during the burning of the ships at Losgar.” Minyarussa spoke up again with bitterness, and a bolt of anger shot through her at his words! All she could see was red,

“It was an accident.” Curufinwë corrected with quickness, yet Vanifinwë scoffed out with a sneer.

“Tell me, Curufinwë, how you accidentally set your own fucking child on fire!” She countered in fury. There was no excuse. The man she had once called her father, she could view him like that no more. He was simply her sire, and that was all he had been good for. Any memory that they shared, well it was in the past now. That Feanaro was a different ellon compared to the one who wrought chaos to almost all the Noldoli and family.

“He didn’t check the ships, Vani-“

“Do not call me by my Ataresse! I will not associate myself with someone so vile any longer!” She hissed out and interrupted Curufinwë, with her nose wrinkling as she sneered, making the freckles on her face wrinkle. 

“Vile!? You have some nerve to speak!” Curufinwë rebutted, slamming his glass onto the table with the decanter set. Making it rattle with delicate clanking, the glasses threatening to tip off the table and onto the hardwood floor.

“Atar!” Tyelperinquar added at Curufinwë, which warranted him being ignored.

“How do you not fucking make sure all of your sons are present!!!! How many years has he been a father of 8!? Yet you excuse it!?” Her voice grew louder in almost a holler, her hands moved with grandiose as if it would further get her point across. A fiery glare aimed at her brother, who had turned fully to face her, returning the nasty stare. 

“Perhaps you should’ve taken the oath and joined us since you could’ve done better sister. Yet you are a traitor to this family!” Curufinwë hissed back out in return. 

“A traitor!?” Failendis began, “I am a traitor?”

“Yes you are, you have no right to even be here. You are not family, not even Atar considered you to be so-“

“Enough Curufinwë!” Makalaurë piped up in swift defense of his sister, not about to tolerate his brother disowning her further just as Fëanaro had.

“You know who the fucking traitor is, Curufinwë? Fëanaro! Because of his oath, he slaughtered innocent elves! Killed our brother! The other captured and Eru knows what his fate is! He stranded his followers and left them to cross the Helcaraxë! Yet I am the epitome of betrayal!?” Failendis continued in a shrill voice at her brother. This prompted Tyelperinquar to move from his spot in the room to approach her. Highly aware that if he did nothing, it would only continue to escalate.

“Have you descended into madness as far down as he has!? Are you so much like him you too will do the same!?” She hollered out at him, Failendis’ voice had grown high in pitch and her throat feeling sore from how hard she was yelling. Conveying all of how she was feeling to him! 

“You glorify him! All of you! Even in the shit he’s done! I have seen your tapestries and have prayed to Eru to give you the benefit of the doubt! Yet you are just like him! In the worst way!” She yelled not just to Curufinwë but to rest of her brothers, 

“Learn to have some respect for the dead dear sister!” Curufinwë hissed out. A scoff of bitter amusement left her throat at his words!

“So he is dead? Oh, how fitting it is. Considering everything he’s done, may Mandos punish him harsh and justly for the ruin he’s brought!” 

“Watch your tongue!” Carnistir growled out and stood from his seat as well, Tyelperinquar placed his hands on her shoulders to soothe her. Failendis didn’t pull away from her nephew.

“I will not! I will speak my mind on this matter and you will say nothing! For you know nothing of betrayal or hardship if you think a simple no to an oath is traitorous!” She screeched out to him in response, 

“He didn’t even release you from your oath, did he? Even now you all are forever to do his bidding! While he avoids everything he has done!” Failendis continued in utter disbelief,

“It is the least we can do as his children! Unlike yourself!” Curufinwë continued with harshness, his voice sounded like their Atar’s. Leaving many in silence over the tone and pitch and sent chills down their spines as it sounded like they were listening to their father.

“At least I am not a selfish maniac who took everyone on a fruitless mission over some fucking rocks!” Failendis rebutted in haste to him. Truly, she had already loathed those gems when she lived in Valinor. She watched what it had done to him. Now she definitely despised them.

“It is not just for the Silmarils! It is to avenge our grandfather and now our father!” Carnistir added, as his face turned redder as he scowled severely. Going to his father’s rescue and Curufinwë’s aid in defending him, since Fëanaro was not there to defend himself.

“Do you really think I would’ve avoided the oath if that’s what it had been about? Fëanaro cared more about those stupid damn rocks than he did us! Look at the wreckage he has caused already! How many more will suffer because of his oath?” Failendis continued to press, while Makalaurë turned his attention to her this time. 

He knew the words she spoke of holding some weight, though it did nothing to soothe any of the anger in this room. It was only making things so much worse. 

“Va- Failendis… I know you are grievously upset. It is reasonable, you’ve been through much these last several years. For now… Let us separate and have time to let everything settle.” Makalaurë began, neither was going to budge on their views. That it would lead to more severe things being said, and that Curufinwë would certainly never forgive her if it kept up. 

When for now they should cherish not only their own relationships and having each other, but their sister as well. Failendis had survived the Helcaraxë, and she had come with Nolofinwë to see them. It was one fewer sibling to worry about being in harm’s way…

“That is an understatement Makalaurë, please do not undermine the struggles that Fëanaro forced upon us.” Curufinwë said nothing in rebuttal, he scoffed at her words.

“I am sure, and I apologize… For now, how about some rest? I’d imagine that was something that wasn’t afforded on the ice.” Failendis sighed at his words with a nod. After having sat down in such a soft chair, she couldn’t deny the exhaustion that now weighed heavily on her. Even if she now stood, sleep sounded good.

“Yes, some rest sounds ideal.” Failendis murmured, as she brought a hand to rub her forehead with another sigh, 

“Tyelperinquar take her back to the guest room-“

“You’re going to let her stay? Even after insulting Atar!?” Curufinwë pressed in disbelief! Makalaurë simply turned to give him a more severe look.

“We have lost enough as it is Curufinwë… Yes, I am going to let her stay. She is our sister regardless of what has transpired and what we have said here.” Makalaurë answered, before turning his attention back to Failendis giving her a faint smile. 

“We will speak later.” He said to Failendis with tenderness and a nod. Failendis took her leave with Tyelperinquar pulling her gently along. 

* * * 

tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @allinwonderlands​ @red-riding​ @eluriel-undomiel​

Quenyan names of the Finweans

Maitimo - Maedhros

Makalaure - Maglor

Tyelkormo - Celegorm

Carnistir - Caranthir 

Curufinwe - Curufin

Atyarussa - Amrod

Minyarussa - Amras

Vanifinwe, Failendis - Faeleth

Nolofinwe - Fingolfin

[theelvenhaven]

Reunions in Arda

Part 2

Vanifinwe x Maglor

4.4k words

Warnings: 

Character Death Mentions

Battle

Bad Dreams

Vanifinwe’s description of The Crossing

Nesa - q. Sister

Hanno - q. Brother

* * *

When Failendis laid her head upon the pillow in the guest room, thoughts and concerns about what all had transpired with her brothers dissipated. Ground to a solid halt as the soft mattress cradled her tired body softly, the duvet wonderfully heavy and warm with a fire that blazed noisily in the hearth. Against this harsh winter weather, this warmth was heavenly… Failendis merely prayed she’d never had to know such freezing temperatures for so long ever again.

All the warmth and softness lulled her to sleep, something that she hadn’t indulged in, in Eru knew how long… Failendis could hardly keep her eyes open, willingly she let it embrace her, pulling her eyelids down like iron curtains. She only wiggled further down into the duvet before she stilled completely, sleeping deeply. 

Nothing beyond the room could pull her from her sleep, or make her even stir. Hours ticked by, turning into a day. This prompted Makalaure to at least peek inside and check on her as the dawn of the second day came. Yet even still Failendis didn’t make a sound or even move to roll over, too exhausted to get up.

Flashes began, a grisly reminder of the Battle of Lammoth as elves fought gruesome and gnarled creatures in their crude armor and steel swords. The sounds of steel against steel clashed loudly, and the air heavy and full of wails and screeches. Pain and agony filled and stained the air in sound and emotion as the groups clashed viciously. Voices rang out commands she couldn’t follow, only recognizing Arakano’s voice and Nolofinwe’s. 

Her own hands slashed at one creature with a dirk in her hand, given to her by Arakano, and kept the beast at bay before Findekano’s blade lobbed its head off into the icy floor. Quietly, the two nodded before they looked ahead. Watching as Arakano had forged a path of slain bodies, despite the swarm of grotesque beings around him.

She yelled quickly for him, which garnered for Findekano to put out his arm to keep her from going any further forward. Before, to their horror, a sword plunged within Arakano’s chest!

With a startled gasp, Failendis shot up in the bed. Sweat beads formed on her forehead, dripping down her face as she looked around the room. She tried to remember where it was she was at! Her mind still engrossed in the dream and left disoriented. The duvet fell around her. The fire in the hearth was blazing with fresh logs. Failendis released heavy pants. Relief filled her as she remembered she was in her brother’s hold… No longer in Lammoth or on the frozen and hellish ice of the Helcaraxe.

Praise Eru.

Though the wound of Arakano reopened and feeling fresh once more, it made her chest constrict tightly as the vision of losing him intrusively filled her mind. Without a second thought, Failendis pulled back the covers. She moved towards the armoire to retrieve a warm robe. Slipping into it, before hurrying from her room as Failendis’ mind busied itself by replaying the scene over and over and over. 

Tears brimmed and spilled at their own volition, even as she fought against them, not ready to be so emotional over the trauma… It would merely bring up thoughts of Elenwe too. If Failendis had the capacity, she’d weep for weeks for everything that they lost, the sounds of their heartbreak audible even now in memory. How she had grown used to it while on the ice. Now there was silence, no wails or cries of heartbreak, yet it was eerie and only made her mind replace it with the memories...

She merely winced heavily as she hurried down the hallway and stairs. Failendis spoke not a word to the maids or to the few elves she passed. Visibly pained by what was on her mind as she came into the kitchens. Having retraced her steps to the dining room, and through the door, Minyarussa had come through when he fed her. 

The kitchen pulled her from her thoughts; it was empty, fortunately, though embers still were in the hearth. So warmth filled the room and it wouldn’t take long to get a fire going once more to make some tea. Something to soothe her nerves, to quiet the thoughts that raced incessantly. To put at least a damper on them… Even if now she feared the thought of resting once more to meet with such terrors.

Failendis sifted through the shelves, before she found a cast-iron kettle- one even still her brothers had created something so simple with the family crest. It left her to sigh out heavily before lifting it to take to the water pump. Before she could set it down, a hand reached for it, startling her. Failendis jumped back with a yelp in surprise, looking up at the intruder with wide eyes as her heart thudded even harder in her chest!

“It’s just me, nésa.” Makalaure whispered with tenderness, going to place a hand on her shoulder to stroke and soothe her. All the while he took the teakettle from her hands, and she moved to place a hand on her chest as if it would still her heart and panic. Yet she could not meet his eyes, only moving to lean against the counter as Makalaure took over in making the boiling water for her.

He watched as his Failendis leaned over and buried her face in her hands, rubbing, visibly distressed still. An intense sight he had never truly seen from her before. Once the hearth was rekindled and the kettle placed on the hook, he came to stand next to her. Makalaure placed a hand on her back, brushing away her long starless strands over her shoulder so he could rub without tangling her fine hair to continue to placate her shot nerves.

“How long have I been asleep?” Her voice came out in a soft whisper as she peered over to him from her hands. Her expression fell to be more neutral. Makalaure heard her swallow thickly, releasing another sigh before Failendis buried her face back into the comfort of her hands. Hiding the remnants of tears that had reformed at being startled.

“Almost two full days… It is near midnight now.” Makalaure responded softly, watching as she nodded at his words. Moving to stand up straight, and rest her hands on the counter, she felt like she had to move to shake the memories off of her mind. Makalaure could easily see that something ate away at her. Failendis wasn’t exactly doing a good job at hiding it, and he hadn’t missed the glassiness of her eyes from unshed tears. Nor the yelp when he had touched her.

“Nésa, what is the matter?” He pressed with care, but Failendis just sighed out heavily. Her head shook at his words as he attempted to claw into what was ailing her. Makalaure suspected that she’d confess as it ate her alive from the looks of it, so he didn’t press any harder, just patiently waited. 

“It was a dream.” She whispered, unable to help herself. Failendis needed to get it all off her chest… For someone to know. Yet there was hesitation because she wasn’t sure she could trust her brother. Even if he extended his hospitality to her. Gravely Makalaure hummed out at her words and looked down at his hands and arms. 

“Of the Kinslaying?” Without hesitation, Failendis shook her head, making inky black hair move in response. Her face scrunched up, wrinkling freckles, and furrowed her brows as her lids hid her sapphire blue eyes.

“No… I stopped having such thoughts of that years ago, I suppose.” She murmured to him, her long and slender fingers twiddling in her uneasiness. Interlocking them but still moving them around her knuckles, Makalaure could only imagine what was on her mind. Something that would override the thoughts of watching pure mayhem and slaughter of innocent elves.

“What was it you dreamt of then?” He pressed with care, seeing the exhaustion that lingered within her eyes even despite the sleep she had. This was exhaustion that ran down into her fea, as physically she appeared in good health, even if she looked thinner. Surely from the lack of true sustenance… He hadn’t missed how frail she felt in his arms when they hugged in the study.

“The Crossing and our arrival plagues me now.” She breathed out to him with pain in her voice, though she tried to say it casually, not wanting to show that it affected her so strongly. Fully Failendis even expected for Makalaure to press relentlessly about how she should’ve joined them. It would’ve been the better outcome, would it not have been?

To have avoided years on ice, listening to the heartbreak, to see the frozen and lifeless elves. To have avoided the sight of when Elenwe drowned and Arakano’s slaughter, even if Arakano had sacrificed himself for the greater good. It didn’t take the pain of losing him away. It could’ve saved Atyarussa and maybe even Maitimo… But Makalaure didn’t rub it in.

“It is truthfully, hard to imagine how severe it was since I was not there. I am not here to invalidate your experience, I just struggle to picture what you all went through since I have not experienced it.” Makalaure confessed as he moved from his spot next to her to go to the kettle. A tactic to get her to open up further about her experience. His nighttime robes rustling softly with his every step, Failendis only sadly looked at her brother. Watching how he carefully fiddled with the kettle, and then turning afterward to face her, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“It was iced over and cold… Far colder than it is here. Winds constantly howled and whipped against exposed skin, I never knew it could feel so sharp… Like razors against your flesh. Or that it could steal one’s breath and for so long that you felt as though you were suffocating.” She began and her words gave Makalaure pause as he watched the far off look in her eyes as she thought on it. Her expression was more morose, certainly as she remembered her own experience of the ordeal. 

“So many died Makalaure…” Failendis breathed out, which didn’t sound too unfamiliar… Many had drowned in the coming to Losgar, the ships having fallen apart in the choppy ocean waves… Freezing to death sounded just as horrid. Not to mention he was sure it came in greater numbers with them being gone for so long.

“Did you... almost pass on to the Halls, Vanie..?” He asked with care and for a long moment, only tension lingered in the air. Makalaure could not blame her if it was something that she didn’t want to share with him… He did not have the right to press this way. To pick it apart as if he and the rest of his brothers didn’t contribute to stranding her and binding her to such a cruel journey and fate. As though he didn’t hold a torch and set aflame a ship that could’ve brought her to them and saved her.

“Yes.” At this, Makalaure swallowed the lump in his throat. To know how close they came to losing her as well. He couldn’t imagine losing his nésa. An ocean’s distance was acceptable, but to lose her to the elements and the Halls. It was bad enough losing Atyarussa and Maitimo.

Suddenly the squeal of the kettle pulled them both from their thoughts, Failendis moved to grab the teapot and cups, setting up a tray as Makalaure came round with the hot kettle. The two working in silence, once the scalding water was dumped in the pot, Failendis adding the loose leaves into it. The lid clinking lightly against the ceramic dish,

“Will you join me for tea, hanno?” She asked quietly, looking down at the silver tray before herself, while her brother set aside the kettle. He quickly turned his attention to her, nodding at her words without hesitation.

“Of course, Vanie. I shall carry the tray...” At that, Makalaure rounded the counters, grabbing the tray and following right behind Failendis up to the room she was staying in. Both walking in silence, and both hoping they’d not run into any of their brothers. Especially Curufinwe for now, Failendis didn’t know if she could handle another argument right now. It would be positively catastrophic if she argued with him, her resentment having grown for him after the argument in the study.

Nor could she handle listening to Makalaure and Curufinwe go against one another in argument… She was grateful when they made it to her room without incident. Opening the door and letting Makalaure go to the couch that sat before the hearth, placing the tray on the table in the center. Failendis locked her door, still not wanting nosy and prying eyes and ears to mess with her and Kano. 

“Tell me nésa… If it is alright, what was it like? To you.” He began, carefully poured her a hot cup of tea. The smell of chamomile and lavender filled her lungs as she took her place next to him, reaching for the spoon that sat in a small jar of honey. 

“I… admittedly remember little at the beginning of the Crossing.” She whispered, stirring the spoon in her teacup aimlessly and slowly. Her eyes engrossed upon the flames before them, that lapped and licked at the logs within. Again she felt Makalaure’s hand come to her back, in another attempt to be comforting.

“I was so angry with Atar, and it struck me with such grief over Atar disowning me and for stranding us to the Crossing. Not to mention what happened in Alqualonde. I thought it meant you all would feel the way he did as well.” Even if she had been devastated and angry with her Atar and her brothers… It was no easy feat being told you no longer had a family. Even if her Uncle was more than willing to foster her. 

“It was Findekano and Nolofinwe that kept me from fading over the grief.” She explained in a soft voice and at this confession, Makalaure felt ice run through his veins. Even if Failendis had just told him she had indeed almost died, the reasoning was heartbreaking to hear. His grip on her shoulder becoming firm as he scooted closer to her, Failendis’ gaze still lost to the flames.

“Then, once my senses came to me, I felt like I could not breathe. My lungs burned from the frigidness of the air. The wind would lash out angrily, and it was like trying to walk on a field of traps. One moment you could walk across the ice, with ease. The next you were wrapped within a sheet of ice, feeling the chill down to your bone and stiffening your muscles.” At this, Failendis came back from her thoughts, reaching for her teacup, inhaling softly the smell of chamomile and lavender. A smell that brought on some nostalgia, reminding her of when she and amille would sit and share in a cup of tea together, the thought making her heartache at the thought. Finally, she took a generous gulp.

“The second time, it was just sheer exhaustion and from being so cold. I did not think I could make it. My fingers and lips went blue, I could hardly move my legs and arms… I felt so frozen stiff and so tired. I had just wanted to lie in the snow and give in to sleep, not caring if it killed me. It made walking across the ice an even more dangerous game.” 

“You never knew if where you stepped was safe or not until it was far too late. The ice could suddenly give way and drag you down into its icy depths, and it was very unforgiving nor willing to relinquish you once it had you.” The moment of Elenwe and Itarille came to mind when they all walked together and suddenly the ice beneath their feet swallowed them whole… Itarille was lucky Turukano had thought so quickly. Yet even despite his quick thinking, it had been too late for Elenwe.

“That... was how Elenwe passed. Itarille almost as well.” She breathed out the thought without prompting, and Makalaure looked away from his sister in shame to hear such words. A member of his own family suffered a fate of death because of their actions… Itarille almost following. He released a shaky breath despite himself, only peering back to Failendis as she set down her teacup. 

Try as she might to prevent them, the tears came in silence, without sniffles or heavy breath. Their screams replaying in her head, and the distaste Turukano held for them all was massive. Failendis did not blame him. How could she? Her family was responsible indirectly for Elenwe meeting such a fate.

“It was horrible, Makalaure… It happened in an instant and she was gone. The water was thick with ice once more, just as quickly as it broke.” The emotions she tried hard to repress coming out in a sob, the trauma still fresh even if it had been years ago. At this Makalaure put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, and willingly she went. Accepting the comfort he had to give her, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. Letting his tears roll down quietly while she cried,

“Vanie..” He moved to say something to reassure Failendis, but what could he say? He thought it better to let her speak her peace instead…

“I see it. Over and over and over again, despite being awake. I can hear Turukano’s cries of panic, see him rushing to save Itarille and clawing at the ice, trying to save Elenwe.” She sobbed out, moving to rest her head against his shoulder. Makalaure could her body shake against his, and the unsteady breaths in which she took as she spoke,

“Now in my sleep, I see Arakano. There is no relief.” Eru knew how long since it had been that Failendis last had relief from the thoughts of death or the thoughts of her brothers being so heartless. Since the Kinslaying, it was never-ending it felt like. Each passing moment only serving to further prove how cruel they were, save this moment and the last.

“He hates all of us, Makalaure. For what happened to her, Turukano openly expressed it in Lammoth. Arakano was the final straw.” She cried, all the hurt and festering just spilling over into a blur of words even if it had no context.

“Curufinwe and Carnistir, I am sure hate me too. I feel unwelcome everywhere, yet I have only just arrived in hanno. I have no place with Nolofinwe, no place with Turukano nor Findarato.” She continued in a shaky panicked breath, Failendis’ body wracked with her sobs and uncontrollable sharp inhales. What was she thinking when she followed her Atar, regardless of what he told her? Feanaro was right. She should’ve stayed in Valinor...

“What happened with Arakano, Vanie?” He asked in a soft voice, trying to keep himself in check, not wanting to take this moment from her. Even if he felt the heavyweight of his actions resting upon his shoulders,

“Orcs killed him.” Failendis said coherently, trying to wipe her face and will away the tears. Makalaure closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath. Where did he even make amends? To fix this horrific mess his Atar left in his wake? 

Nolofinwe’s words about his inability to say it was good to see him only continued to make further sense. How could he even repair that relationship knowing he and his brothers killed not one, but two of Nolofinwe’s children? It would be easier were his eldest brother here… Maitimo would certainly know what to do.

But he was not here, another victim to their Atar’s oath.

Failendis had clearly been the wiser of the eight when it came time to refuse the Oath. Even if she were, it was clear even still she suffered from it indirectly. Bound to it regardless of what her answer to Feanaro had been.

For some time, Makalaure and Failendis sat huddled together, letting her release all the pent-up emotions. Even if it took hours, Makalaure didn’t dare move, only tightening his grip to be snugger and resting his head atop hers. Neither of them touching the tea that they had brought for themselves, leaving it to sit and grow cold. 

Failendis let the warmth of his hug wash over her, savoring how good it felt to have comfort from one of her brothers. Breathing him in, just resting against him without worrying about such harsh judgment from him. Makalaure having only patiently listened to her, without rubbing things in. Without accusing her of being a traitor and implying that Failendis was not his kin.

It was only when she reduced herself to sniffles that he would start trying to fix this with Vanie at the very least. It may be but a small step, though Makalaure valued it as his most important one to start with.

“No matter what has happened between us, you are my nésa. You will always have a place here with me. Maitimo too, I am sure, if he were here. Regardless of what the rest of our brothers think or say.” His voice came out like satin, full of warmth and love for his nésa as he turned his head to press a kiss to the top of her head. Giving her a gentle squeeze,

“I care not for what Atar claimed…” He whispered, “You are my kin, and you may stay as long as you need to.” Makalaure assured her, and Failendis could only manage a nod at his words.

“As for Nolofinwe… I think you underestimate how much of a place you have garnered in his life and with his people Vanie.” He realized the bond that the two shared before had ballooned in their crossing together. In the angry and mocking words of Curufinwe, she was the equivalent of a pious devotee of Nienna in their eyes. Someone who proved that even one of them could think rationally and compassionately despite all that had transpired to their family, to have avoided causing such mass hurt. They’d all benefit now to follow their sister’s lead as opposed to continuing down this chaotic path Feanaro had set.

“Bring the issue with Turukano to Nolofinwe, and let him handle speaking with Turukano, for if there is anyone he should not hold a grudge towards in this family, it is you. You are equally… as troubled and have been through so much just as they have. For that moment I am sure he thoughtlessly spoke out of grief.” At this he felt Failendis relax in his hold at his words, reassured by what he had to say. Mentally and physically exhausted from all the crying that she’d done, though lingering within was a relief to have finally spoken on the ordeal.

That her brother had patiently listened to her every word, that he didn’t rub in how “foolish” she was to have denied their Atar her commitment to the oath. Relief that he still loved her and cared about her, and hopefully remorseful for everything he had contributed. Vanie pulled away, moving to sit up as she wiped at her face again with her hands. Her cheeks becoming raw and tender from the repeated motion. Her thoughts running through her head, questions that had piled up… But the most important question coming to the forefront of her mind.

“What do you need from me, nésa?” He asked her patiently, and for a moment she was silent, looking at her hands as she sniffled. What she needed now was the answer to the question that had been plaguing her thoughts.

“Makalaure… Do you regret what all has happened?” She breathed out, needing to know if the compassion and empathy he gave to her were merely selfish to bolster himself- or if it was genuine. Failendis watched Makalaure with scrutiny as she continued to dab her face repeatedly, desperate to dry away all the emotion, while he sighed out hanging his head down.

“More than anything, Vanie. If I could redo everything, I would. I cannot speak for the rest of our brothers, save Minyarussa I am sure.” He breathed out softly, bringing his hands together as he rested his elbows on his thighs with a frown on his face. It had been a nightmare, and with every action, the regret only grew heavier. Like pure iron bars piling in his gut and heart. Quietly, he reached over to hold her hand and squeezing it.

With this information, Failendis could breathe a sigh of relief that someone in her immediate family truly regretted their deplorable actions. It would at least help soothe her fretting over Makalaure and the ellon he had become. Though Failendis wouldn’t hold her breath, he had yet to rescind the Oath.

“Is there anything else, Vanie?” He breathed out, sitting back up and turning more to face her, Failendis merely shrugged for a moment, feeling again the pull of sleep trying to take its hold on her.

“I-I just need rest right now, hanno. Alone.” Vanie mustered a very weak smile, though she was simply too exhausted and spent to muster anything greater. Makalaure returned the soft smile, nodding at her words.

“I understand… I shall leave you to rest.” He began moving to stand, watching as she did the same. Failendis didn’t move towards the bed right away, instead of moving forward to embrace her brother one last time. Makalaure kept his smile, returning the affections, lingering for as long as she did.

It had been years; she missed him and even if she wanted to be angry, right now she couldn’t be. She would save all of her questions for him for another time. With that, the two parted with Failendis eagerly moving to crawl back beneath the duvet. Settling easily into the soft bed, before her eyes could no longer stay open.

Makalaure quietly slipped from the room, only to discover an unwanted eavesdropper outside the door. Curufinwe tensed his jaw as he ground his teeth, waiting for his brother to finish closing the door. He didn’t need to open his mouth, for Makalaure knew what this was about. It was about Vanie staying and surely a slew of other things he overheard.

He merely sighed, shaking his head at Curufinwe’s actions,

“Let us speak in private, Curufinwe. She’s been through plenty, Vanie deserves to rest.” At this Curufinwe, without a word, followed behind Makalaure, stewing on all that he had to say. For truly it couldn’t be expected of them to extend their hospitality to a traitor, regardless of kinship. 

* * *

tags: @saviorsong​ @lilmelily​ @dicksoutformtl​ @fandomhoe101​ @icarus-fell-in-spring​ @allinwonderlands​ @red-riding​ @eluriel-undomiel​

Quenyan Names for the Finweans

Maitimo - Maedhros

Makalaure - Maglor

Carnistir - Caranthir

Curufinwe - Curufin

Atyarussa - Amrod

Nolofinwe - Fingolfin

Findekano - Fingon

Arakano - Argon

Turukano - Turgon

Itarille - Idril

Elenwe - Turgon’s Wife

Findarato - Finrod

[theelvenhaven]

Hello there! I've just binge-read literally everything on Vanifinwë (she's so great I utterly adore her) and feel free to ignore me but I have a question. If, somehow, the Valar allowed everyone in House Fëanor to be reborn in Valinor. Would she try to make amends with her father and brothers? I personally would not recover if my own father and brother looked me in the eye and said I'm no daughter/sister of theirs, AND they basically disowned her over three rocks, I would run crying to mama Nerdanel and let her handle it haha.

03.03.2021

Okay for starts your question is well appreciated and I am so excited to answer it!! 🤩 As well as:

Because you love Vanie and you asked about her 😭💖this literally has made my whole entire day. I’m so so so happy to hear that omg 😭💖 I love to talk about her!

Secondly you will be very pleased to know I am working on part 3 for the Reunions of Arda on and off right now. As well as I have a small alternate universe series I am trying to write as well where she took the oath. As was requested by an anon.

But if the Valar permitted for Fëanaro and her brothers to be reborn, when Vanie sails and comes back to Valinor it really depends on which brother scorned her for what.

In Fëanaro’s case she never forgives him, not for disowning her, for leaving her and Nolo and his people to cross the ice, not for what happened to Amrod and Maedhros, and not for what he bound her brothers too and having to watch them rip Beleriand apart. Even if in an AU and she were to end up in the Halls I just can’t picture her ever reconciling with him.

She’d meet with him solely to tell him unfettered how she felt. It would be vicious, she’d have enough resentment built in her at that point to be far from afraid of him. She’d make sure that if he wasn’t aware already, just what his oath had done to everyone and how much she hated him.

Atyarussa and Minyarussa, they’d be the very first she’d reconcile with and spend her time with in Valinor before she considered meeting with the rest of her brothers. And she’d do it on an individual basis, again depending on who it was.

In Maedhros and Maglors case she’s a little more forgiving, as neither disowned her- Maglor especially. He’s very much in her corner and against Curvo’s verbal assaults and Tyelko’s complicity and antagonistic behavior towards the situation. She’d be able to forgive them for what they’d done in the name of the Oath knowing that their hands were tied to things out of the realm of their control as were the rest of her brothers.

For Celegorm she’d probably sit on the fence about reconciling. She knows he cares about her- he and Caranthir would be the solid wall of “no DONT do that” if she hypothetically wanted to run out into danger. But at the same time Celegorm wouldn’t be able to resist picking at the more vulnerable parts of her and antagonize tensions between her and Curufin. As for his part in Nargothrond it would go over very poorly.

With Caranthir I think most definitely like Maedhros and Maglor she could forgive him and see the good he did in Beleriand and how hard he worked. Even if he was more defensive about Fëanaro’s death and her arrival to Beleriand. He’d be least likely to antagonize any further unless she prompted him to do so.

With Curvo, I don’t think she could forgive him. She’d see him as someone who tried to force his way into their Atar’s shoes. Who was uncaring of the consequences and had no issue berating her every chance he got for her “betrayal” to Fëanaro. The way she spoke of Fëanaro and her refusal to take the Oath to their faces I think is something, during their time in Beleriand, is just something he’d never be able to get over while there. He’d also not be so forgiving of her not forgiving Fëanaro post the Halls would not go over as well either. They’d be right back at each other’s throats.

What happened to Finrod and the news reaching her would go as poorly as you could imagine when she finds out. As their level of betrayal and just how low their willing to sink would just make the relationship plummet permanently.

With him she’d not even give him the time of day or a second thought. Not for Nerdanel or Celebrimbor. She’d let Nerdanel handle it and that would be the end of that.