#Pityafinwe

[thelien-art]

The Sons of Fëanáro

Latest portraits - Beleriand portraits.

Fëanor, Nerdanel & Celebrimbor - Children of Ñolofinwë - Ñolofinwë, Anairë & Grandchildren

HC:

Maedhros: While Maedhros cared much more for braids and jewelry in Valinor I don´t think he ever really stopped caring, still dressing up before that as a fine rich lord, until after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad where all hope seemed lost to him, and his sole goal was to get the Silmarils, thus saving his brothers from being unmade in the void.

Maglor: I think Maglor always wanted as much power as possible, and one of those ways to get it was to stick out, therefor always choosing silver and Mithril over gold even as it was more seen in Beleriand than Valinor it was rare to see on a noldor, thus giving him the attention he ears he wanted. While I think he was far from the pretties of the brothers his words easily made up for it, as well as his talent to talk down a situation, making him look like the calmest and most civil of the brothers even if he wasn´t.

Celegorm: While being seen as the wildest of the brothers I do not doubt that Celegorm enjoyed rishes and wine when possible, showing of as much as possible, not minding heavy jewelry gifted by Curufin, and mixing them with what he got from his fellow hunters, much to his brothers distress.

Caranthir: I think Caranthir was excellent with money and the riches elf at least at some point, and he was never afraid to show it, dressing himself in Irish heavy fabrics and jewelry by his brother.

Curufin: Curufin is the most fashionable Feanorian out there - always up with the latest trends one thing he at least shared with Finrod. Curufin admired Celegorm for his independence as a child and saw it as a way to rebel against his own name and the expectations it carried with him. While he always loved Feanor an unhealthy amount I also think he despised his parents and yearned for his own identity, and not a copy of his father, which he could only get by being extreme, therefore early leaning on Celegorm for his own will.

Amras & Amrod: I always like the idea that while Amrod was burned when Feanor set fire to the ships, he never died despite having burnt most of his function in the left side of his body away as well as his speech, making Amras invent a sign langue for him and translate for others, this also meaning they were closer than ever in their time in Beleriand - therefor also HC him as the youngest, despite the later changes. As both twins are called hunters, I believe Amras was the one living most up to it, never caring much for finery, while Amrod himself was a scholar but after the fire chose to join his brother in all, although he still liked jewelry in such.

Other HC: Numenor´s crown is inspired by Maedhros´ cobber circlet, much to Maglor´s irritation he finds it charming non the less even if he would rather it was his own that was used as a reference

[wisesnail]

Skills and personal style evolve - sometimes I'm still charmed by my old works, but other times I can definitely notice improvements. I actually have both reactions while watching this (terrible) video about the #Feanorions from 10 or so years ago, and the ones I painted in the past few weeks.

I don't know how to explain, but the new versions feel more... "real" to me (especially #Ambarussa , for some reason)

Anyway, this is a reminder to myself that I can get better - and I thought it would be fun to show the "before" and "now " <;

[firinaira]

Pityo after brother's death (with Telvo's horse)

Do not use without my permission, please

[doodle-pops]

I’ll Wait For You

Amras x reader

A/N: This was based on the Arranged Marriage headcanons I wrote for the Fëanorians a while ago. Enjoy!

Warnings: arranged marriage AU, anxiety attack (minor), comfort, fluff

Words: 2.3k

Synopsis: With the recent union of your and Amras’s arranged marriage and thrust into the world of rivalry, you and Amras find yourselves in the comfort of each other’s company.

The palace of Tirion was a marvel, its white walls gleaming under the light of Telperion. Every corner of the grand hall was adorned with ornate decorations—garlands of gold and silver, and chandeliers that glittered like the stars themselves. Your new family knew how to display their wealth and power, and tonight’s gathering was no exception. The grandeur of the event was enough to take one’s breath away, but it also made you feel as if you were drowning in an ocean of expectation.

You had anticipated a certain level of formality when you were informed of your arranged marriage to Amras. The news had come swiftly, with little time to prepare, and you had barely caught your breath before you were thrust into the role of his spouse. The marriage itself had been a quiet affair, a ceremony marked by propriety and duty rather than celebration. You had accepted your fate with as much grace as you could muster, but it did little to calm the nerves that now gnawed at your insides.

This evening was your first official appearance as part of the House of Fëanor, and you were unaccustomed to the grandeur, to the sheer volume of people—nobles from every corner of Valinor, all dressed in their finest silks and jewels. Their eyes had been on you from the moment you entered the hall, assessing, judging. You could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on you, and you wondered if they could see how out of place you felt.

Amras had been at your side like a quiet reassurance in the midst of the chaos. He was a man of few words, and his quiet demeanour had been a comfort to you in the whirlwind that had followed your marriage. Yet, despite his calming presence, you could not shake the feeling that you were a stranger in this world of rivalry.

The rivalry was heated, an undercurrent that ran through the gathering like a silent storm. Fëanor and his half-brother Fingolfin had long competed in every aspect of their lives, and now it seemed that even the marriages of their children had become another arena for their contest. Each noble family seemed to be evaluating not just you, but the alliance your marriage represented. It was too much—the grandeur, the scrutiny, the sense that you were nothing more than a piece on a chessboard, moved by forces beyond your control.

As the evening wore on, the noise and the crowd began to overwhelm you. Every smile felt forced, every word strained. The music, once beautiful, now felt like an assault on your senses. Your heart raced in your chest, and the walls of the grand hall seemed to close in around you. You needed to escape, to find a place where you could breathe without feeling the weight of so many eyes on you.

Making your excuses as politely as you could, you slipped away from Amras’s side with a murmured promise to return soon. His reply was a simple nod, though, the slight furrow in his brow questioned your decision, nevertheless he had let you go without question. You wound your way through the throng of people, past the servants carrying trays of food and drink, and finally through a side door that led into one of the many corridors of the palace.

The quiet of the corridor was a welcome relief from the noise of the hall, but it did little to calm the storm that raged inside you. Walking quickly, your footsteps echoing against the marble floors as you sought out a place where you could be alone, where you could gather your thoughts and still your racing heart. And it seemed as the corridors twisted and turned, leading you deeper into the palace, you found yourself at the entrance to the gardens.

The scent of jasmine and roses filled the air, mingling with the cool, crisp scent of the night. A soft breeze stirred the leaves of the trees, and the sound of running water from a nearby fountain provided a soothing backdrop to the otherwise still night. The path before you was lined with stone benches and flowering bushes, their petals glowing softly in the light of the stars above. Briskly you followed the path, your feet carrying you deeper into the garden until you reached a secluded corner where the night-blooming jasmine grew thick and fragrant.

Here, at last, you allowed yourself to breathe as you sank down onto one of the stone benches, your hands trembling as you buried your face in them. The tears you had been holding back all evening spilled over, hot and unwelcome, and you felt a sob catch in your throat. It was all too much—too fast, too overwhelming. You had barely had time to process your new life, and now you were expected to be a part of this grand family, to fit into a world that felt completely alien to you.

You knew that Amras was kind, that he would understand if you told him how you felt. But you didn’t want to burden him with your fears, not when he had his own struggles to contend with. He was a quiet man, often overshadowed by his more outspoken brothers, and you wondered if he felt just as out of place in this grand gathering as you did.

Caught in your whirlwind of emotions, a soft rustle of leaves behind you made you freeze, and you hastily wiped the tears from your cheeks, trying to compose yourself. You turned, expecting to see a servant or perhaps one of Amras’s brothers, but instead, you found yourself looking into the concerned eyes of your husband.

“Amras,” you breathed, your voice shaky as you attempted to stand. You hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t expected him to follow you.

He didn’t say anything at first, simply watching you with those piercing green eyes of his. Then, slowly, he stepped forward and knelt in front of you, halting your actions, his gaze searching your face for answers.

“Please, no need to stand. Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

You wanted to lie, to tell him that you were fine, that you just needed a moment to yourself. But the words caught in your throat, and all you could do was shake your head as fresh tears welled up in your eyes.

Immediately, his expression softened, and without a word, he reached out to take your hands in his. His touch was warm, grounding you at the moment, and the gentleness of it made your heartache. “It’s all right,” he said quietly, his voice soothing. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”

You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over again. “I–I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to run off like that…it’s just…everything is so much, and I don’t know how to—”

Amras squeezed your hands gently, cutting off your words. “I know,” he said softly. “It is overwhelming, isn’t it? This is all so new, and…so much has changed so quickly.”

You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to rein in your emotions. “I don’t belong here. I can't fit in…or never,” you whispered. “I don’t know how to…to be what they expect me to be.”

At your whimpers his eyes softened as he reached out to take your hand in his. His touch was warm and reassuring, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “You’re not alone in feeling that way,” he admitted. “I’ve lived with my family my entire life, and even I feel out of place sometimes. They can be…a lot.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the honesty in his voice. He was quiet by nature, often overshadowed by his more boisterous brothers, but in this moment, you saw the depth of his understanding and his own struggles.

“It’s just that everything happened so fast,” you continued, your voice trembling. “I barely had time to process the arrangement before we were married, and now…now I’m here, surrounded by all of this, and it’s like I can’t keep up.”

“I feel the same way,” he confessed. “I didn’t expect things to move so quickly either. I thought…I thought we would have more time to get to know each other, to adjust.”

He paused, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. “I want you to know,” he said slowly, “that I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not, or that you have to meet anyone’s expectations—least of all my father’s.”

“You don’t truly mean that?” you whispered brokenly.

In response, he offered a genuine smile and a nod of his head. “Oh, but I do.”

You felt a rush of gratitude at his words, and your grip tightened on his hand. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. “I—I’m so relieved to hear you say that.” You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and for the first time that evening, you felt like you could breathe. The weight that had been pressing down on you lifted slightly, and you looked at his with newfound gratitude.

Shaking his head, his expression gentle. “Perfection is overrated,” he said softly. “And it’s not what I want from you. I just want us to be able to talk, to get to know each other as we really are—not in feeling out of place. I understand how overwhelming it can be, especially when you’re suddenly thrust into the middle of all this expectation.”

His honesty touched you deeply. You had always admired him for his quiet strength, but hearing him admit his own vulnerabilities made you feel closer to him in a way you hadn’t expected. The idea that you weren’t alone in your feelings, that even someone as composed as Amras could feel out of place, gave you a sense of comfort and camaraderie.

“I’ve always felt like an outsider,” you confessed quietly, turning your gaze to the flowers blooming around you. “Even before all this. I’m not used to being the center of attention, and it feels like I’m constantly under scrutiny now. I’m afraid of making a mistake, of disappointing you or your family.”

While his expression softened, he hesitantly reached out to gently cupped your cheek, turning your face so you could meet his eyes. “You could never disappoint me,” he said with quiet conviction. “And as for my family…they’re a lot to handle, I know. They’re just…well, they’re a passionate lot, and sometimes that passion can be overwhelming. But you don’t have to worry. Take as much time as you need to settle in, I’ll be patient.”

His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped.

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, simply holding each other’s gaze. The garden around you seemed to grow even more tranquil, as if the night itself was offering its blessings to your newfound understanding. The gentle rustling of the leaves, the sweet scent of the jasmine, the distant chirp of crickets—it all became a comforting symphony that wrapped around you like a blanket.

As you sat there, you began to notice the little things about Amras that you hadn’t had the chance to before—the way his hair caught the moonlight, the gentle strength in his hands as they held yours, the quiet confidence in his voice that belied his earlier confession of uncertainty. There was a depth to him that you were only just beginning to understand, and it made you want to know more, to explore the facets of the man who had become your husband.

Eventually, Amras broke the silence, his tone lighter as he said, “You know, I was thinking…perhaps we should try to slip out of these gatherings more often. I’m sure my father and uncle would be too busy trying to outdo each other to notice our absence.”

You laughed, the sound bright and genuine, and it felt good to release some of the tension that had been weighing on you all evening. “You’re probably right,” you said, a twinkle in your eyes. “They seem more interested in their competition than in who’s actually present.”

“True,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “and when I was younger, I used to hide out in these gardens whenever family gatherings became too much. My brothers would be off making a spectacle, and I’d sneak away to find some peace.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the image of a young Amras hiding among the flowers, seeking refuge from the chaos of his family. “I suppose it’s no wonder you found me here, then,” you replied, a hint of amusement in your tone.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “The gardens have always been a place of solace for me. It seems fitting that we’d find some peace here together.”

As the night wore on, you and Amras continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily between you. You spoke of small things at first—your favorite places, your hobbies, the things that brought you joy. And in return, Amras opened up about his own struggles, his feelings of being overshadowed by his brothers, his desire to find his own path.

The more you talked, the more you realised how much you had in common. You both longed for a sense of belonging, for a place where you could be yourselves without the weight of expectations.

As the night grew later and the chill in the air deepened, Amras finally stood and extended his hand to you. “Shall we make our farewells?” he asked softly, sensing that you were ready to leave.

“Sure, why not,” you murmured. “I think it’s high time we returned home.”

Masterlist

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[strelkovski]

Noldorin Weasley

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Fëanáro: *names his first child third (of Finwë)*

Fëanáro: *has twin redheads who name themselves first and second*

Literally everyone: Ooh, so Nelyo’s your youngest?

Fëanáro (and Russo): Fuck this

[tolkien-povs]

POV:

Your twin brothers die in a kinslaying, so to cope, you and your elder brother surprise-adopt twins in the same kinslaying.

[thecoolblackwaves]

What phone battery percentage does each Feanorian have?

I can only do one person at a time so I'm going to reblog this post for each one. Will do all 7 kids + parents

[aylen-san]

Maglor: Curufin, I understand your resolve, but attacking Doriath will only worsen our situation. Deaths and fratricide are not what we should aim for. There are other ways. Why not try a different approach?

Curufin: We’ve tried everything. Dior will not negotiate. We cannot allow them to continue tormenting us and our allies. We need to act decisively.

Maglor: I understand your anger, but this could lead to great bloodshed and discord. Maybe it’s better to think of an alternative strategy? For example, bribing their allies or finding a compromise.

Curufin: Negotiations? They do not listen to us, Maglor. Conversations waste time, and we need to prepare for the next strike.

Maglor: We cannot act without considering the consequences. If we win the battle but lose everything we’ve built, it will not be a victory. Think about a strategy that will bring us long-term benefits.

Curufin: Alright, what steps do you propose? How can we prepare for a more favorable outcome?

Maglor: Remember how the Silmarils were obtained? We could simply steal them. The girdle of Melian is no longer there. It’s better than openly attacking Doriath. I have a bad feeling about the attack.

Curufin: I understand your concern, but Dior is not an easy target. He is smart and cautious. If we attempt to steal the Silmarils, we need to plan every detail carefully, or we risk falling into a trap.

Maglor: Therefore, I propose we prepare thoroughly. Let’s study their defenses, find the weak points, and develop a plan. If we do everything right, we can avoid open conflict and losses.

Curufin: Alright, but how exactly should we act? What steps are needed for success?

Maglor: First, we’ll gather intelligence about Doriath and its defenses. We need to find out who is in charge of security and where the weak spots are. Then, we’ll prepare tools and resources for a stealthy entry. We can also use allies for diversionary tactics.

Curufin: That sounds reasonable. We must be very cautious and use all resources to avoid mistakes. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll achieve our goal without unnecessary casualties.

Karantir: Maglor, your plan looks promising. Amras, Amrod, and I believe this is indeed the best approach. Moreover, we could make it appear as though it is the work of Morgoth. This will divert attention and create additional pressure on Doriath.

Amras: We’ve already discussed possible methods. If we create the appearance of Morgoth’s attack, it will distract Dior’s forces and create chaos within Doriath. This will make it easier for us to approach our goal.

Amrod: I agree. We can use old tricks to forge the evidence. It will require careful preparation, but with our skill and attention to detail, we can succeed.

Maglor: I’m glad you support the idea. We need to create false evidence pointing to Morgoth and ensure that our actions look like part of his plan. This will require detailed planning and coordination.

Amrod: I will handle the preparation of fake evidence and diversionary tactics. Karantir, you’ll need to ensure everything is ready for the start of the operation.

Karantir: Agreed. I’ll handle the coordination of all resources and preparation of necessary means. We’ll act quickly and carefully to ensure the success of the plan.

Maglor: Alright, let’s begin preparations. We need to act cautiously and strategically. If everything goes according to plan, it will improve our position and reduce losses.

Karantir: I would also like to add that the Dwarves of Nogrod could become our allies. They have a long-standing grudge against Doriath, and they could provide significant assistance.

Amras: Great idea. If we enlist the Dwarves, they could provide the necessary resources and help organize the operation. Their hatred for Doriath will be useful for distraction and creating chaos.

Amrod: Agreed. The Dwarves know the mountain paths well and can assist in developing the plan. They can also supply us with necessary equipment and materials.

Maglor: If we enlist the Dwarves of Nogrod, we’ll need to discuss the terms of their participation and ensure they are willing to work with us. This will require additional negotiations and planning.

Curufin: We’ll consider their demands and interests. If they feel their involvement will bring them the long-awaited revenge, they will work resolutely. We should also discuss how we will coordinate our actions.

Karantir: I can take on the negotiations with the Dwarves. We need to offer them the benefits of our cooperation and convince them that it will bring them satisfaction and gain.

Amras: With this ally, we’ll significantly strengthen our position. We need to create a clear plan for joint actions and distribute tasks to ensure everything goes smoothly.

Amrod: I will handle the technical aspects—creating fake evidence and ensuring we have the necessary means. We’ll also ensure our actions are synchronized with the Dwarves.

Maglor: Alright, if the Dwarves agree to help, it will be a powerful addition to our plan. We’ll start with negotiations and then continue preparations, considering their involvement. We must be ready for unforeseen circumstances.

Curufin: Agreed. Let’s prepare everything necessary and act quickly. Time is on our side, and we must use it as effectively as possible.

[blueflipflops]

Some messy sketches for @feanorianweek

Exploring some designs for my favorite war criminals! 🩷

[Close ups under the cut!]

[thelien-art]

Day 6: Ambarussa for @feanorianweek

Anger｜Patience & Gluttony｜Temperance

Amaranthus Caudatus: Amaranthus Caudatus symbolizes hopelesnnes and heartbreak but also immorality from the Greek name "Amárantos" which translates to "one that does not wither", "eternal", and "everlasting".

Elven twins share one Fea so I believ they where always close and when Amrod almost died in the fire of Losgar and looses the abilti to talk because of his burnt thoat Amras took over for him and they became even more one than they where before. As if one being with two bodies. Which freaks out almost everyone they meet. I drew Amras in darker colors as I think he was always a hunter and Amrod in lighter since he was a scholar and philosopher (positivism), where it was only when they reached Beleriand that he and his brothers always were together no matter what he really got into hunting

Maedhros｜Maglor｜Celegorm｜Caranthir｜Curufin

[elficially-done-with-life]

Will You Stay Forever?

Pairing: Amrod x reader

Summary: The Reader and Amrod were friends before the Fëanorians went away. Now that Amrod is released from the halls, the Reader isn't sure how to feel.

Warnings: mentiones of death (burning)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

In the days when all had been right with the world, you had known Amrod well. You had been friends and you would have gone so far as to say that one day you would certainly have married. You didn't know if he felt for you the way you felt for him, but you loved him and there was no one else for you.

And then he just disappeared. At first you had hated Fëanor for taking your beloved Amrod away from you, but over time that anger had turned to sadness.

You could not hate Fëanor when he had been like a second father to you. Through your friendship with Amrod, you had met him many times and he had forged jewellery for you and helped you out in times of need.

That was also the reason why you and Nerdanel often met for tea after the disappearance of her family. She was like family to you too, and the thought that everyone else was gone weighed heavily on both of you.

But it was also at one of these tea meetings that a little bird with a letter flew in through the window.

It had been sent by Manwë to inform Nerdanel that the Valar had decided to release Amrod from Mandos.

The shock had been practically written all over her face and she seemed oblivious to everything around her, not even flinching when your teacup slipped from your hand and smashed on the floor.

They hadn't been gone that long. And already Amrod had died and come to Mandos? But how could that have happened? Was he okay?

Probably not, you realised grimly.

How had it happened? Were you allowed to see him?

Nerdanel was expected, if she wanted to see her son, to meet him at the gates of Mandos. And so she walked out the door without another word to you.

You couldn't blame her at all. You yourself were more than just shocked and had difficulty collecting your thoughts.

For a while, you just stared at the broken teacup on the floor, then you grabbed a large cloth to pick up the pieces.

You briefly toyed with the idea of waiting here to see Amrod, but then you were gripped by a fear you had never felt before. Your Amrod would no longer be your Amrod. He had probably changed or maybe he didn't want to see you at all.

So you ran as fast as your legs would carry you out of the door that Nerdanel had left open in her hurry.

It was many months after that before you saw her again.

Normally you met at least once a week, but now that you knew about Amrod's return, you avoided going near that house.

You didn't even really know what it was that you were so afraid of.

On the one hand, you could hardly wait to see Amrod again, but on the other hand, now that you had the chance, you suddenly had the urge to hide away somewhere and live for the rest of your life with only the memories of him that you already had. The good and peaceful memories of a happy life.

Nerdanel came by on a gloomy summer afternoon and knocked gently on your door. She looked more worried than usual, the circles under her eyes were deeper and her brows had drawn together.

"I need your help," she had said and then wordlessly motioned for you to follow her. At times like this, you missed Nerdanel's motherly smile, which she had often given you back then.

She led you to her house, the house you had been trying to avoid for months.

It hadn't really changed in appearance inside. Not that you would have expected that, but as vehemently as you had avoided it, you had somehow believed that something had changed.

Nerdanel stopped in the corridor just outside the front door and whispered softly, "He does not talk to me about anything." Then she looked at you, tears glistening in her eyes. "He always has these terrible nightmares, but he won't talk to me about them. I thought, since you are so close, you could try. Only if you want to, of course."

You nodded, swallowing hard. "I will do my best, but I cannot promise he will talk to me."

But Nerdanel only smiled. It was a small smile, but it was a start. "Thank you," she said and gave you a quick hug.

You knew the way to Amrod's room by heart. You had walked it so many times that you could find it with your eyes closed.

However, when you stood in front of Amrod's door, you hesitated briefly before knocking.

In the time he had been away, you had often come here and knocked on this door, but no one had ever answered, and each time it had broken you a little.

But this time there was an answer. "Come in." said... Amrod.

His voice sounded like it always had.

The tips of your fingers tingled as you placed them on the door handle and entered the room.

The room was messier than usual, but otherwise looked almost unchanged, which gave you a stab in your heart and made you think back to how much time you had spent here back then.

Amrod sat by the window, looking out over the forest behind the house where you had once gobe for a hunt with Aredhel, Celegorm and Huan. You felt as if it had all happened in another life.

He didn't turn to you until you softly breathed his name. He jumped up so hastily that the chair he had been sitting on tipped to one side.

Amrod looked as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't get a sound out. And then suddenly there were tears on his cheeks.

"You- you are here." he whispered so quietly that you barely heard it.

You nodded. "Yes, I am here, Amrod."

He took a step closer to you and suddenly it seemed only natural for you to step closer too. You held your arms out to him and silently asked him if it was okay.

Instead of answering you, he stepped into your arms and buried his face in your neck. His hands grabbed your clothing and held on to it as if he was afraid you would disappear if he didn't.

You gently wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his shoulder. "I am here Amrod. I am here."

For a while you just stood there, then suddenly he said, "It hurts so much."

"What?" you asked, startled, "What hurts?" Was he in pain right now?

"How it- " he sniffled, "how it happened." And you realised what he tried to say.

"Fire." he finally whispered and you pressed him even tighter against you, because he didn't have to explain what he meant for you to understand. "There was fire everywhere."

"It- "you wanted to say it is okay, but was it really? "You are here now."

"And you are with me." Amrod whispered softly. "And the fire is gone. And Atya- " he paused and sobbed quietly against your neck. "I cannot talk about it yet."

You gently stroked his spine with your fingers. "Then let us not talk about it yet. We have time."

"Will you stay?" he asked hopefully.

"As long as you want me to stay," you answered honestly.

Amrod nodded slightly. "I want you to stay forever."

"Then I will stay." you said resolutely.

[arystarxo]

Amrod and Amras

[quinthejester]

alright its Amras (first one) and Amrod (second one). my amras picture is based after Amrod died, and the Amrod one is based when he's still alive because, like... he's alive lol

[a-happy-artist]