#Silmarillion fanfiction

[ylieke]

"And Melkor entered his realm. And the Dark bowed before its Lord, and came apart in the light of Silmarilli. The creatures of the night prostrated themselves on the ground in hopes that they would be spared and his heavy gaze wouldn’t fall on them. Sauron bowed low, pinned down by the terror that like a cape was draped over the Fallen Vala. He relinquished all the power he held in his absence and laid it for him, as a servant must." An illistraion for the "Play with fire" fanfic by @eternal-fear

[leucisticpuffin]

breakdown/mending

“I cannot do this,” says Makalaurë, breaking his own stilted attempt at a formal greeting, and crumples like a cloth doll at my bedside. 

It is the first time he has come alone. He slipped into the tent early this morning, hollow-eyed in the grey light; now he screams into my blankets, and the medicine-bottles tremble upon the low table. 

(Of all my brothers, Makalaurë was ever the quickest to tears. He wept for lost toys and stories, for quarrels between brothers and grievances not his own, for beautiful songs and unexpected gifts – but not like this. Not over me.)

“Káno, Káno,” I say, the nickname strange and rough in my mouth. “Why come here, if the sight of me upsets thee so?” 

It is meant as a joke, but I know at once it is wrong: it is too near the truth. Angamando, I am told, has warped my sense of humour.

 “I am sorry,” Makalaurë sobs, straining for control of his voice. “This is not – I did not come to thee for this–”

His hands twist in the tangle of his hair, pulling at his scalp as he used to when he was very small and upset. “Stop, Káno, you will hurt yourself,” I tell him – but I am too harsh, and he flinches.

I knew how to calm him, once. Remembering is like looking through poorly-made glass, smoke-tainted and full of imperfections; but I know there was once a bright-haired, handsome child who held his little brother tight and stroked his hair while he cried. 

That child, I think, would know what to do. 

Even slow and halting movement jars my shoulder painfully. Still I reach for Makalaurë, thinking to take his hand – but I cannot do it. Touch is hateful to me now, the healers’ ministrations all my fragile skin can bear. A glancing touch, and against my will my hand draws back – my fingers shake, bone-white and too thin – I dare not try again. 

It would not do any good. My scars are the cause of my brother’s distress: he looks at me as if he had cut every mark himself. How, then, could I be a comfort to him?

This is how I know myself changed: Makalaurë weeps before me, and I cannot console him. 

@maedhrosmaglorweek, Day Two: Trust/Distrust

[animatorweirdo]

Painter's Passion

You are a clumsy painter in Aman. It was not a bad thing for you. Ever since you were reborn from the halls of Mandos, you have been seeking to capture the world around you in a piece of canvas. You also find yourself catching feelings for a certain red-haired Noldor prince.

Warnings: mentions of dying in the past, dead parents, being reborn, reader being incredibly clumsy and prone to accidents, falling, someone getting paint all over them, some angsty moments, confessions, and courting.

-----------------------------------------

- Your life in Aman has been good since your release from the halls of Mandos, having healed from the wounds of the past and reunited with your younger sister. 

- It was a joyful reunion and her new family took you in since your parents never returned from death. 

- Your sister’s husband was a sweet ellon, and her in-laws were kind to you. You managed to adapt into their family soon enough and it was like you had been part of their family since the beginning. 

- They were so accepting and supported you when you found a new passion in painting and arts, even when you were quite clumsy for an elf. 

- You were enthusiastic and couldn’t help it. When you see something you want to sketch and paint, you tend to pay less attention to your surroundings and trip yourself, or end up in other predicaments. You have been like that your whole life. Ever since your release from Mandos, you just wanted to see all the beauty of the world and capture it on a canvas. 

- It was perhaps one of the reasons why your younger sister was so protective of you. When you reunited and joined her new family, she barely allowed you to be alone and wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Your brother-in-law even teased you that you kinda stole his wife, but you two figured out your sister might have still been bothered by the trauma you two experienced in Middle Earth, and you did die saving her. 

- Your sister was at least comfortable enough to let you wander as long as you had someone to accompany you. You agreed to her terms, knowing she just wanted to look out for you. 

- You managed to make yourself a name in Aman. Your skills in painting grew significantly, and you started receiving commissions even from the noble houses. However, after five months in your new life, you started to struggle to find inspiration. It was an art block and you wanted to expand what you usually painted. 

- One of the least usual places you have gone was the northern parts of Aman, and when you told your family your plans to go there, they hesitated but allowed it as long as you were careful. 

- The northern parts of Aman were lovely even though most claimed it to be cold and rather desolated. You did not mind it as it reminded you of your home in Beleriand.  

- You sketched many lovely things you saw before finding a good spot for a painting. 

- You climbed on one of the trees to have a better view of the mountains and the trees and began joyfully sketching. However, when you wanted to try using some of the paint, you accidentally dumped your arm against one of your paint vials and it fell toward the ground. It was really bothersome as it meant you would have to climb down and you climbed quite high in the tree, but what you did not expect was the vial to hit someone. 

- You were startled and stayed quiet when the elf below you yelled and cursed out in frustration. You looked down but couldn’t see anyone due to the branches. You doubted they could see you too. You listened for a while as the people below you talked, then heard them leave. You should have apologized for the mistake, but staying quiet was like a fear response when people started yelling angrily, it was something you couldn’t get rid of even during your healing in the halls of Mandos. 

- You sighed, trying to relax, but then you lost your balance and fell backward from the branch. 

- You yelled as you fell and hit the branches below. When you saw the ground coming, you braced yourself, but then you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, catching you and preventing you from hitting the ground. You looked at your savior as they held you in their arms before your art supplies fell from the tree as well, forcing you two to cover yourselves. 

- You then glanced at the ellon again. He was a rather handsome one with eyes striking blue and hair crimson like fire. 

- “Ehh…sorry and thank you,” you awkwardly laughed. “Wow… you’re quite beautiful,” you commented. 

- The handsome elf questioned if you were hurt and you assured him you did not suffer anything serious than a few bruises and twigs in your hair before explaining your reason for being in the tree and showing him the sketches you managed to draw before your ungraceful fall. 

- He looked skeptical of you at first since apparently, not many elves ventured to the northern parts of Aman, but he seemed to have relaxed when he saw your sketches and questioned if the paint vial that fell upon his brother moments ago was yours, making you feel more awkward as you confirmed it and apologized. 

- He assured you it was just an accident, nothing to get mad about though his brother who fell unintentionally as a victim would think otherwise before questioning why you couldn’t just sketch on the ground where there was less risk of falling. 

- You then started rambling about getting the perfect view of the land around you. You began showing him the sketches and paintings you managed to make and told him all the incidents that followed, like your foot getting stuck between some rocks, nearly falling into a river and a nest of owls not being very happy with you being on the same tree as them. 

- He looked impressed with your sketches but raised a brow at every incident you mentioned. 

- You then asked if he knew of any lovely views you could draw because he seemed more familiar with the land. Even though he seemed hesitant, he agreed to show you. 

- He then accompanied you, showing you places and views you might like. They looked colorless and boring to him, but you always found something beautiful and began drawing. You even rambled about how the north reminded you of Beleriand. 

- Mention of Beleriand gained his interest, and you then found out he used to live there too during the first age. You excitedly started conversing with him about it since so few spoke about it these days. 

- You recalled some of the continent's beauty and how you lived in Hithlum with your sister and family. When he told you he used to live in Himring, you got excited and asked many questions about it, wanting to imagine Himring and its snowy hills. Your new companion seemed baffled by your excitement but willingly described his former home. 

- During your little adventure, you sketched and talked while he mostly listened and made sure you did not end up in another incident. At the end of the day, he escorted you back to your home city and bid you farewell. You asked if he could show you around again the next time you wanted to visit the northern parts. He seemed genuinely surprised but said if you wanted, then he would be more than happy to show you more of the north. 

- You were delighted. You thanked him and then parted ways. When you returned home and told your family about your little adventure, they questioned the name of the elf and then you realized you had completely forgotten to ask for his name or tell him your name. 

- However, when you described him, your family seemed to know who the elf was. You then learned your new friend’s name was Maedhros, the eldest son of Feanor, who nowadays lived in Formenos, away from society.

- They urged you to stay weary of him. You felt a little confused, though you were aware of the sons of Feanor and what they did, Maedhros did not seem monster-like or someone who would want to cause harm to anyone. And besides, you believed in giving people a second chance despite their past. 

- Your family did not forbid you from meeting him again, or maybe because you forgot to mention that you were going to see him again. 

- The next time you met him, you found him where you last set off and together went on another adventure around the north. You rambled about things and he mostly listened. He wasn’t the biggest talker, but he seemed happy just listening and watching as you worked on your paintings and sketches. 

- He also made sure you were safe. He made sure you didn't accidentally fall into a ravine or get mauled by a bear for intruding on its territory. 

- He assured you he was not angry at all by these incidents, but sometimes it crossed his mind if you needed a safety harness or something, 

- You painted many lovely pieces of the north. When Maedhros escorted you back again, you finally remembered to introduce yourself. 

- Maedhros introduced himself and before he could start with anything else, you handed him a small sketch you drew last night. You explained you couldn’t stop imagining Himring and drew a sketch from his description. He was genuinely surprised by the gift, and when he didn’t give much reaction, you nearly apologized, but then he explained how you managed to draw Himring quite well without having ever seen it and he was grateful for the gift. 

- He then said he enjoyed adventuring around the north with you, and now that you knew who he was, he would respectfully stay away and you do not have to come to see him since most elves do not have anything nice to say about his father and his brothers. 

- You then smiled and asked why he would assume you never wanted to see him again. You then explained you were not bothered by his family’s reputation and that many unfortunate things happened during the first age. You would love to go on more adventures with him because not many had the patience to accompany you and save you from the incidents like he did. 

- Maedhros seemed shocked by your answer, but then his eyes softened and he even cracked a small smile. 

- He called you bold. You two had only known each other for two days, yet you already confessed to enjoying his company and wanting to see him again. You only giggled at his response, and it was the start of a beautiful friendship.  

- You told your sister about it, and even though she seemed a bit skeptical, she told you she would allow it as long as Maedhros kept you safe and would gut him alive if he dared to hurt you or anything. 

- Maedhros did not often visit the cities because of the reputation he and his family held, so you would mostly come to him instead, at the edge of the forest that became your meeting spot. You two would scout out interesting sights, draw, and paint. You would ramble about interesting things that happen in the city or your family. Maedhros shared a little about what happens between his brothers and father, as the atmosphere is pretty quiet sometimes but sometimes shenanigans happen. He was mostly interested only listening to you. 

- He was still a bit on guard, but each time you visited. He began to soften up and even share things about himself. 

- You even encouraged him to try drawing, which could help relieve bottled-up feelings and keep his focus elsewhere. While Maedhros did not have the most artistic hands, he was capable of drawing small things like flowers and rabbits. One time he drew a small good portrait of you, and you have kept it safe ever since. 

- Sometimes you tried telling funny stories and jokes to see him laugh. Only some of them made him smile and chuckle, but you have yet to make him laugh. 

- When you two would ride around, he always seemed to be on a watch out for you. You did tend to get into accidents, but even when he came for a rare visit in a city, most likely to visit his mother, he would keep on guard for you. It was like you had a big guard dog following you around, but you did not mind. 

- You met a few of his brothers when they began to notice Maedhros’s absence in their home and how he went out more. 

- Maglor was the first to notice and secretly followed his older brother once with the twins to see what had gotten him so keen on going out more often, and the three were surprised when they saw him with you. 

- Maedhros’s heart nearly jumped into his throat when he saw them, and they revealed themselves to you. For the first time in years, he was afraid they would do something to scare you away, but like with him, you did not even seem phased and greeted them enthusiastically. 

- You quickly won Maglor over when you started talking with him and even showed him your sketchbook of all the places Maedhros showed you, even unintentionally giving them a reason to tease Maedhros by showing his small drawings and the small portrait of you. 

- The twins kept asking you things and were surprised when they learned you were fully aware of who they were and did not seem bothered by their past. They quickly accepted you when you showed them the drawings and they were continuously cackling at Maedhros, who was at the edge of considering murder. 

- He knew well that they were not going to let him hear the end of it. 

- He momentarily told you to go elsewhere for a moment, and you heard him yell at them to go home before escorting you home without them. You heard one of them calling Maedhros out for having a crush. You only giggled at the rest of the journey, while Maedhros looked like a deflated balloon. 

- But some time later, your focus on art began to waver toward Maedhros, the shape of his face, his crimson hair, and the soft expression he often wore. You made a few sketches of him but felt yourself become a bit shy at the thought of giving them to him. It was surprising because you don’t usually become shy when giving people their portraits. 

- Maedhros suddenly became busy for a week, so you couldn't see him. It was something related to a family business, and during that time you grew to miss him. He did send you a letter beforehand and you couldn’t help but hold on to it.

- When your sister and brother-in-law came to visit, they found the sketches and the painting of Maedhros. You told them about your visits with him and your sudden change of feelings toward him. They seemed surprised, then explained you were falling in love with him. 

- The thought made you excited, and even more excited when your sister and brother-in-law supported your feelings, but for the sake of your family, you will reveal them gently. 

- You slowly opened up about your feelings to your new mother and father and since they did not hold any grudges or bad opinions about the sons of Feanor. They accepted it, having had a feeling who you have been seeing and how much happier you seemed to have gotten. 

- You then attended a party. You and your family were dressed for the occasion, and to your joy Maedhros was there. 

- People looked at you like you were a headless chicken when you approached him and Maedhros seemed stunned when he saw you, though not in a bad way, he looked at you and the dress you wore and called you beautiful. You shyly returned the compliment, telling how dashing he looked. 

- You explained your sister married one of the Vanyar, who was a noble house, and thus became part of their family. 

- You two mostly conversed the night on the side, and when it was time for a dance, Maedhros encouraged you to find someone else for a dance partner because he might pull bad attention on you.

- You told him you were a clumsy dancer and did not want to accidentally embarrass yourself by stepping on someone’s foot or making them fall though you would love to dance with someone. 

- Maedhros then seemed to have an idea and he led you outside, where you two slowly danced to the song. He helped you learn the steps, and that closeness made your face burn with shyness. You incidentally stepped a few times on his feet but he was patient. You had fun and you two even laughed about it.

- It was the first time you even heard him giggle out of the silliness of the whole situation. 

- At the end of the song or two, you then remembered and asked if he could meet you at the castle garden at the end of the party, wanting to tell him something in private. He agreed and you two momentarily returned to your families. 

- Your parents and sister were still dancing, so the only one you found was your brother-in-law’s younger brother. He was young and a bit rash, but you two were close. 

- You shared with him that you had been meeting someone and planned on confessing, and he seemed happy for you till he realized it was Maedhros you were talking about.

- He suddenly became upset and told you how you should not court someone like Maedhros. 

- He used to grow up hearing all the bad stories about Maedhros and his family, so you understood his rashness and tried to calm him down. You tried to explain that Maedhros had not done anything to make you like this, but then he mentions how Maedhros also used to be a thrall, thus he was not also evil but tainted by darkness. All thralls of Morgoth were tainted with evil and darkness. 

- You were stunned by his statement and told him you used to be a thrall of Morgoth too. 

- He became quiet by your confession. You were not angry with him but his words did cause pain in your heart since your sister had shared how you both used to be thralls in Middle Earth. 

- He started apologizing, but you assured him you were not angry but needed to be alone. 

- You do not know what happened after but you did hear your sister yell after you retreated into the garden since it was the end of the party. You tried to dry your tears while waiting for Maedhros, but they forcibly came out and you started sobbing, remembering painful memories of your time in Angband and the death of your parents. 

- Maedhros was startled when he found you like this and quickly questioned what had happened.

- You shared what happened with him and then told him the story of how you and your sister became thralls in Middle Earth. 

- When your home fell, you and your family were taken to Angband. Many bad things happened during your time there, including the death of your parents. Your sister was a child back then, and one day, you sacrificed your life so she could escape the iron hell.

- Your sister managed to escape, growing up alone and falling in love with a Vanyar elf when the host of the valar finally came to end Morgoth’s reign of terror. 

- However, the sorrowful part was that for most thralls who end up dying there, their souls would be trapped in the darkness or fade from existence. Your soul was lucky to escape the darkness and find its way to the halls of Mandos, but your parent's souls were not so lucky.

- Your younger brother's words brought back the memories and you felt hurt he thought all thralls were evil, even though you do not remember ever doing evil things when you were still alive. 

- You then apologized to Maedhros for not telling him. 

- Maedhros only shook his head and comforted you. His presence was enough to make you calm. You told him your brother got upset because you wanted to confess your feelings for him. 

- Maedhros was shocked until you explained that you accept him and his past and that you liked being with him. 

- Maedhros then told you he had already started falling for you when you accepted his brothers and how your gentle enthusiastic heart simply began pulling him toward you. He only held himself back because he believed you deserved someone, who did not possess such a tainted past as him. 

- The first age was long gone and his past as a thrall did not matter to you as you used to be one too. You would love to court him as long as he accepted your feelings. 

- He then gave you a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and told you he would guard your heart and joy till you did not want him anymore. 

- You became happy and confessed you did not believe there was ever going to be a time when you would not want him. 

- When he returned you home, you heard how upset your sister was after hearing what happened. Your little brother was ashamed after getting yelled at by her. You tried to assure them you were not angry and had already forgiven him, then Maedhros further dispelled the argument, asking their permission to court you. It was a surprise, but it seemed to have worked dispelling the violent atmosphere. 

- Your sister, brother, and parents admired Maedhros’s boldness and since they were aware of your feelings for him, they accepted. Your little brother seemed hesitant, but Maedhros seemed to have a way with words and even he relented and gave his blessing, also because he felt awful about the things he said. 

- Their acceptance made you really happy. 

- Later in the week, you finally gained the courage to show the sketches and paintings you made for him, and he admired them then teased you made him look way too pretty, which made you laugh. 

- Then during your first month of courtship, he introduced you to his mother, who was delighted to meet you. She teased Maedhros because apparently he talked a lot about you and was glad that he finally confessed.

- Maedhros still kinda wanted to keep you away from his brothers, but since Maglor and the twins already knew, he revealed he was now courting someone to his father and the rest of his brothers. 

- His father was happy for him and told him he was free to love anyone he wanted especially someone who bore him no ill will for what happened. Caranthir wanted to meet you since he was a bit skeptical but after meeting you, he was certain his brother would be fine. Celegorm was a bit bummed down that he was left in the dark and Curufin was upset when he found out you were the one who accidentally dumped paint on him during the hunting trip. 

- You apologized for it, and he then dared you to paint something good since he was not convinced about your artistic talents because of how clumsy and sometimes forgetful you were. 

- You accepted and with some tips from Maedhros and Celegorm, you managed to paint a painting that impressed Curufin. You were not certain what he thought of it after he received the painting, but Celegorm confirmed he liked it. 

-Your courtship was a joyful one, and after many months, Maedhros asked you to marry him and you accepted.

[solmarillion]

so i found out that ao3 is changing the tag names for silm characters and. they got rid of the quenya names even though people USE THEM. i am heartbroken

oh well at least celebrimbor is safe

NOOOOOOO THEY GOT RID OF MAIRON?!?!?!? WHYYYYYYYY 😭

[cilil]

Eönwë Week - Day 1: Genesis

𓅛 Characters: Eönwë, Manwë & Eru 𓅛 Synopsis: The first of the Maiar awakens. 𓅛 Warnings: / 𓅛 Triple drabble

He comes into existence with one timid note of song, akin to a gasp of breath, and the first thing he senses is that he's held by a mighty presence and watched by others, like him but bigger. 

The young spirit curls in on himself, frightened.

"Behold the first of the Maiar." 

The others draw closer now, reaching out to make themselves known. He avoids them at first, until suddenly he senses one who feels familiar. 

They are... alike, this older spirit and he. 

"Father," a voice exclaims then, "Father, I sense that he shares my element. Will he be like me?"

"In a way, yes," the presence — Father — says. "The Maiar shall be the younger of the Ainur, smaller in stature and sharing the elements and domains of you, the Valar. Your task will be to teach and guide them, and their task will be to learn and serve."

Father brings him closer to the older spirit, and he finally uncurls just enough to see. Yes, that one is less frightening; his spirit feels warm, kind and gentle like a summer breeze, though the newborn Maia doesn't know yet what it means. 

He reaches out, just one tiny, trembling tendril of spirit, and is pulled closer. It's comfortable around this Vala, he thinks happily; in the future he will remember this moment being akin to a baby bird hiding in its parent's plumage. 

"What is his name, Father?" 

"He will be swift and he will be steadfast, strong like the mightiest of your creatures, yet gentle at heart, like you. He will dutifully carry your messages and fiercely defend those he holds dear." 

Father pauses. Then — 

"His name shall be Eönwë."

"Hello, little Eönwë," the Vala coos, delighted. "I am called Manwë."

And Eönwë has loved him ever since. 

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose

@elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @singleteapot

@stormchaser819 @urwendii @wandererindreams @eonweweek

[potatoobsessed999]

Finrod Felagund. "Philosophic discourse regarding the enmity of Orcs with Elves." The Philosophy of Finrod Felagund. 2nd ed., edited and translated by Vardamir Nólimon, Armenelos, S.A. 130.

[Ed. note: Private papers of Finrod Felagund. Written in his own hand. Dated to the season of Firith in the year 455, shortly before the Dagor Bragollach.]

Fact: According to the lore of our people from the days of Cuiviénen, the Enemy fashioned Orc-kind by his torture and slow corruption of Elven captives.

Question: How did our people learn this lore? Can it be that any ever escaped from the depths of Utumno to serve as witness?

Fact: In the lore we got of the Valar there is to my knowledge no teaching regarding the origins of Orc-kind.

Conjecture: It may be that our lore is not reliable on this point.

Fact: There are a few among us who dwelt at Cuiviénen, and others of their number abide yet in Aman; none of them have to my knowledge disputed the accuracy of our lore on this matter.

Fact: The fëar of Elves and Men have their differences from one another, but none so fundamental as the distinction between the fëar of the Eruhíni and the spirits of the non-speaking creatures. The spirits of non-speaking creatures cannot properly be called fëar, as the distinction in question is one of kind and not of degree. (Indeed fëar cannot be spoken of at all in terms of degree or size, as each fëa is itself indivisible.)

Fact: The lore we got of the Valar tells us that the fëa cannot be destroyed by any means.

Fact: Also of that lore, we know that the Enemy cannot truly create, only twist in mockery what has been created.

Fact: Also of that lore, we know that the Dwarves have their fëar of Ilúvatar alone, and not of Aulë. Before the granting of their fëar they could not speak, nor had they any will of their own, but could only obey the will of Aulë.

Fact: Orcs speak, and there is sense behind their words.

[continued on Ao3]

[dalliansss]

“We need to dispose of this creature,” Curufin says, mirroring Celegorm’s sentiment.

“Do you think we can eat it?” Finrod wonders out-loud. “Steaks.”

Curufin rolls his silver eyes so hard, Turko briefly worried they might pop out of his head. “Ingoldo, do you remember when you first encountered potatoes? Yes? You ate them raw and food poisoned yourself. We are not eating anything wrought by Morgoth’s foul sorcery. Away with the idea!”

Finrod pouts mightily and harrumphs. Then Edrahil calls the King for an urgent matter, and the golden one flounces away to follow his captain. Turko shakes his head.

“Only one elf mad enough to suggest to try eating a godsdamn dragon,” Turko says, bemusement in his tone.

Curufin crosses his arms. “I’m dumbfounded you hadn’t suggested it first, hanno.”

“Are you shitting me? With the stink this creature has? Not even my most rabid dogs will want a piece of it.”

[Dragonsmoke / AO3]

[lyragoth]

Narvi pondered the ideal moment to present the elf with the most exceptional gift a dwarf could offer: a dwarvish runestone.

These runestones were beyond price, unattainable by trade or barter, and not to be endowed more than once in a dwarf's lifetime. Their worth lay not in their profit value but rather in the intention behind their giving.

Narvi hesitated to give the runestone to the prince on numerous occasions, plagued by feelings of insecurity. After all, it was merely a stone, lacking the grandeur of a thermal bath hewed from a natural crevice or a cavern fashioned from opal (like the ones the elf's strange companion gifted him).

Yet, summoning his courage, he decided to proceed. After all, he was a dwarf, not one to shy away from challenges!

As the elf reached out to accept the rune, Narvi couldn't resist a jest:

"Beware! It is cursed for non-dwarves!" he quipped, relishing in the turmoil sparked in the elf's azure eyes.

Celebrimbor's reluctance to accept the rune only fueled Narvi's amusement, causing him to laugh loudly at the Elvish superstitions and their penchant for taking even fabricated curses seriously.

Annoyed, Celebrimbor dismissed Narvi's jest with an exasperated huff before gingerly accepting the runestone.

His skilled fingers traced the textured surface, reveling in the coolness beneath his touch and admiring the stone's rich blue hue. But as he read the inscription "Amrâlimê" with his fingertips, his vivid eyes widened in surprise.

Understanding the meaning of the word and the intent behind the gesture, his smile faded as a pang of sadness pierced his heart.

"I cannot accept your runestone." He confessed, "No gift I offer you could ever match such a treasure,"

Narvi shook his head, his expression unwavering. "Any gift from you would be cherished eternally. Moreover, I seek nothing in return; for a gift is freely given, not a debt to be repaid."

[sotwk]

do you have any recommendations for writers of gen fic? <33

*trips over myself in the rush to answer this Ask* DO I EVER!!!

I happily and highly recommend the following Tolkien Gen Fic Writers, and have included their Ao3 accounts for easy binging access:

@emyn-arnens - Ao3: Arveldis

@hobbitwrangler - Ao3: obsessive_combustive

@cuarthol - Ao3: cuarthol

@cycas - Ao3: bunn

I must also mention a couple of my favorites who have written excellent Gen/Family fics alongside their ship/romance fics:

@from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras - Ao3: Showed_Up_Late_To_The_Muster

@scyllas-revenge - Ao3: Scyllas_revenge

Thank you so much for Asking, Anon! I don't get to make rec posts often enough, so I'm so glad when I'm pushed to do so by Asks. :)

[kanskje-kaffe]

Newww Silvergifting fic!

"I have chosen. I serve Melkor." Those three words had kept him going through ten thousand years of ruin. How could he not reach for them now? When he thought of himself, it was the shape of Melkor's lips he saw, the sound of a voice that drove others to madness and ruin, but had seemed to him so enchanting in its vast, transcendent power. Mairon. "Mairon." Nienna's voice was clear as a bell, and Mairon flinched; more than Aulë, more even than Manwë, she was the Vala he feared most. "Morgoth is gone. It is over."

---

The Madrigal by Kanskje_Kaffe on AO3

Celebrimbor could not heal in the Halls of Mandos. Now reembodied, he is willing to do whatever it takes to find peace - even if that means becoming master to the recently-defeated Sauron.

Being served by a Maia proves far more complicated than he initially anticipated.

[sillysistersusi]

Because they loved us so

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Celebrimbor & Elrond

Summary: Elrond and Celebrimbor braid each others hair and talk about the family they have lost.

Celebrimbor laughed as he continued to braid Elrond's hair. "Uncle Maglor did what?"

Elrond wiped a tear away from under his eye, for he had laughed so hard that his eyes had begun to water. "Yes, Maedhros was anything but enthusiastic about it, but in the end even he could not help but grin."

"I really did not think Maglor would be so bad at baking, because he is not bad at cooking at all," Celebrimbor said gently. "Atya was actually marvellous at baking, even if he did not do it often." He fell silent.

Celebrimbor hadn't wanted to talk about Curufin at all. It was the one subject that was taboo in his mind. He almost never spoke of his father anymore, as much as he felt the need to. Not after everything that had happened.

His hands became still in Elrond's hair.

Like every time he thought of his father, Celebrimbor was overcome by this incredible surge of emotion.

His mind always thought briefly of the beautiful moments. How Curufin had taught him how to forge, how he had cuddled him in the evening until he fell asleep or how he had put a protective arm around his shoulders.

But then his thoughts always drifted to another time. A time when his father was under so much pressure to please Fëanor that he only worked and hardly had any time left for his family. Then came the memories of the battles and how his father had sometimes returned covered in blood and just sat there staring at the ground for a while. Once Celebrimbor had gone to Curufin at such a moment, hoping to help him, and Curufin had pressed his face into the side of Celebrimbor's hair and cried. Celebrimbor had never seen his father cry before.

After that came the memories where Curufin was... was different. Meaner. Celebrimbor had decided then to stop blindly trusting and following him.

But to this day, he wondered if that had been the right decision.

"It is all right." said Elrond, who was still sitting with his back to him, obviously to give him some privacy, something Celebrimbor was very grateful for, because as always when he only thought about Curufin, he had started to cry.

Carefully, he leaned against Elrond's shoulder from behind and buried his face in his neck. "Sorry. I- I should have known not to mention him, and now I have ruined everything."

"No, my friend. It is all good. "Elrond gently placed a hand on Celebrimbor's knee. "If you want to talk about it, that is fine. He was your father and you loved him incredibly. And I am sure he loved you too, always."

"I just miss him so much, you know?" Celebrimbor stammered softly and Elrond nodded. He understood all too well. He also missed Maglor and Maedhros. Sometimes, when he lay in bed at night and couldn't sleep, he thought he could hear Maedhros' rough voice saying goodnight and Maglor singing a lullaby. He always fell asleep immediately afterwards, with a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes.

But he also missed Elwing and Eärendil, even if his memories of them were few and hazy, he felt a longing in his chest for them.

"Sometimes I think about whether I could have saved him if I had gone with him," Celebrimbor whispered softly and sniffled. "Maybe it would have been all right then."

But Elrond knew that probably wouldn't have happened. "I have seen the effects of the oath on Maedhros and Maglor. No matter how much Curufin loved you, the pressure of the oath would have destroyed him sooner or later. And I am sure he would have pushed you away before that happened, precisely because he loved you so much."

"But if it is so clearly the truth, why does it hurt so much?" Celebrimbor pressed himself tighter against Elrond, because whenever he felt so helpless, all he wanted was to be surrounded by the warmth of someone he cared about.

"I guess it hurts because you loved him as much as he loved you," Elrond replied softly. He wished he could do more to help his friend.

"I am really sorry for crying all over you." Celebrimbor said quietly and full of shame. He lifted his head slightly.

"As long as you need me, I will be here to catch you, just like you do for me and all our other friends. You cannot always be strong, Tyelpë," Elrond whispered. "I am the last person who would tell you not to cry."

So Celebrimbor pressed his face back into Elrond's neck and wrapped his arms around his waist to press himself even closer to him.

[ylieke]

My cover for @eternal-fear's Silmarillion fanfic! Which they are still to finalize a little bit😅

[leucisticpuffin]

coirë | a stirring

“Thou callest this season beautiful,” he said one morning, watching shadows shift through the canvas as an attendant cleared the doorway of snow. “Forgive me, but I cannot see it.” “But thou hast seen it not,” protested Findekáno, setting aside his mortar and pestle. (The skill of preparing medicines he had picked up in the fearful days of the last winter, needing desperately to be useful, and yet unable to look at the wound wrought by his own hand.) “Not everywhere is so grey! Come, Russandol; I shall show thee why we name it so.”

Read the whole story on AO3

[animatorweirdo]

Soundless

Your father discouraged you from seeking the elf, but since you were desperate to have your locket fixed -- you decided to let his words go soundless in your ears. Turns out, the ill-famed Feanor wasn't so bad after all.

[] = Sign language

Warnings: mentions of a dead mother, hearing loss, rumors, Feanor's reputation, softness, and Feanor not being bad after all.

(Note: I decided to take a softer turn for this guy,)

---------------------------------------------

Your life has not been an easy one. Despite being born into nobility as the child of a Telerin lord, you faced your share of hardships from a young age. Your mother passed away shortly after your birth, and then you lost your hearing to a strange illness.

Growing up without the ability to hear the sounds of nature or music was incredibly challenging. Many people looked at you with pity, and some even speculated that you were cursed, given the unfortunate circumstances surrounding both your mother's death and your hearing loss. This placed a heavy burden on your father, who was left to care for you alone.

You two shared a great bond, and he had been genuinely a good father to you, helping you adapt to your disability and trying to make sure you were happy. However, you knew how tired he was and how he held a look of longing in his eyes. He was most likely still waiting for your mother to return from the halls of Mandos. 

Your mother had been born with a weak body thus the childbirth took a severe toll on her and her spirit. The Valar and the Maiar assured that she would heal over time, but it would take a long time. There was a high chance she would return when you had already grown into your teens. 

Your father was deeply saddened by the news and carried a heavy burden of guilt, believing that he was responsible for your mother being stuck in a state of recovery. Despite any rumors or beliefs held by others, he never allowed you to bear the blame. Instead, he shielded you from such notions, ensuring that you understood it was not your fault and that you were not to blame for your mother's passing.

You didn't want your father to blame himself, so you always strived to be on your best behavior and do things that would make him happy. You also wanted to prove to him that he didn’t always need to worry about you and that you could handle yourself, even if you were deaf. That was one of the reasons why you were determined to learn how to read people’s lips and make communication easier for yourself.

One of the only things you had from your mother was a silver locket.

Your father allowed you to keep it, and you held on to it ever since. Unfortunately, the lock had gotten stuck, thus making you unable to open it. 

Your father didn’t know what the locket held inside, so you pleaded with him to have someone fix it. However, since the locket was an older design from the First Age, none of the craftsmen knew how to repair it. They all advised you to dismantle the locket and salvage whatever was inside, but you were unwilling to do so. You were fond of the locket itself and didn't want to risk damaging whatever precious contents it held.

You began to lose hope when there were no more craftsmen to turn to, and even your father seemed less eager to save the locket. He eventually told you to simply keep the locket as a memory, assuring you that knowing what was inside was not important.

You valued your father's advice, but you also couldn't shake the desire to know what was inside the locket. Perhaps it contained a picture of your mother, since you had so few of them in the house, or maybe it held a cherished item she kept as a memory.

You then heard about an elf who was rumored to be one of the best craftsmen known in history: Feanor, King Finarfin’s older brother and the eldest of Finwe’s children. You heard that he had done troubling things in the past and nowadays lived in seclusion with his sons, rarely attending social events. Despite his reclusive nature, his reputation as a skilled craftsman persisted.

You felt hope for your mother’s locket, but when you asked your father if you two could meet him, he suddenly became angry and refused. You were startled as you had never seen him so angry before. 

Your father apologized for snapping at you and then explained that Feanor was not someone who should even be spoken about. Despite the passing of many years, the wounds he had inflicted were still fresh in the hearts of many. He was not to be trusted, so it's only for the best that you forget the whole thing.

Normally, you would have listened to your father, but your stubbornness to have your locket fixed strived you forward. 

During a celebration event with most noble houses and the city attending, you sneaked away from your father’s side and made your way to the workshop where you heard Feanor usually occupied alone with his gadgets. 

You had visited many workshops while trying to get your locket fixed, so you had a good idea of what to look for. It didn’t take long for you to find the place and walk inside. The workshop was empty, as most of the people were attending the celebration. Although it was a bit eerie to be alone, you pressed on until you found a door with light emanating from the room beyond.

You quietly peered inside and observed a dark-haired elf seated beside a table, engrossed in some task beneath the flickering candlelight. For a moment, you were awestruck, realizing that this was the famed Feanor, the elf who had allegedly committed terrible deeds.

With cautious steps, you entered the room, mindful not to startle the elf, and pondered how to approach him without alarming him. Unbeknownst to you, the door behind you closed shut, causing the elf to startle and snap his head towards you.

You were frozen in your place when you locked your eyes with Feanor. His features were sharp and he frowned when he saw you. For a moment, he looked a bit terrifying. 

“Child? What are you doing here alone? Where are your parents?” Feanor questioned, but you awkwardly remained quiet as you only managed to catch ‘here’ and ‘parents’ from his lips. Your lip reading skills weren’t the sharpest despite you having been trying to improve them. 

You took a deep breath and then tried to explain in sign language why you were there and that you had hoped he could take a look at your locket and perhaps know how to fix it since no one else knew how to. 

Feanor gazed intently at you as you signed, and then there was an awkward pause. You weren't sure if he understood sign language, and you mildly regretted not bringing a piece of paper and a pencil, which would have made explaining much easier.

Feanor’s eyes then softened, and to your surprise, he motioned his hand in sign language. 

“[Come here…]” he said. 

You then walked up to him and handed him your locket. 

He inspected it carefully, taking in the design and the lock. After he tested it and tried to open it, he then laid it down on the table. He grabbed one of the vials and what seemed to be a small tool. You looked at him curiously as he started doing something. 

He then glanced at you. 

“[Take a seat. This might take a while…]” He signed. 

You nodded and quietly sat on the opposite side of the table, watching as he gently poured drops on the lock. 

“[What is that?] you curiously asked. 

“[A type of acid. It can remove the rust that had locked the locket from the inside,]” he explained. 

“[Wait! So you can really fix it without having to break it?!]” you asked excitedly.

“[Of course I can. I do need to take the lock apart to clean the excess rust from the inside,]” Feanor explained while dropping drops on the locket. 

“[How do you know sign language?]” you asked. 

“[I was the one who first developed it,]” he answered, making your eyes widen. 

“[Did you or anyone in your family have hearing problems too? ]” you asked. 

“[No. I just wanted a way to bad mouth my half-brother without him understanding anything. I was a bit of a drama seeker,]” he explained, making you giggle. 

“[Then it was adopted by those who were unable to speak or hear words,]” he added.

“[How long have you been unable to hear words or sounds?]” he asked while cleaning your locket’s lock. 

“[My whole life. I lost my hearing somewhere in my birth,]” you answered.

“[Do you want to talk about it?]” Feanor asked, and you became excited. No one else besides your father has spoken to you in sign language this long. 

You then talked about your life. How your mother died during your birth, and how your father had taken care of you your whole life. You also talked about how your father seems to be blaming himself for your mother’s death and how you hated when others would look at you with pity and think you had been cursed. 

Feanor listened attentively while fixing your locket. 

After half an hour of talking and watching him work, you took a break, but then you saw how the elf in front of you placed all the parts back in the locket and opened it. 

You looked at him eagerly as he closed it and then opened it, making sure the lock worked properly before handing the locket back to you.

You grabbed the locket and took a look at what was inside. It was a small picture of your mother and father. They looked happy together, and there was also a small gem inside. It was most likely the gem your father gave your mother as a gift, and she had kept it inside the locket for safekeeping and carried it with her. You felt immeasurable joy looking at the picture and holding the gem. 

Your father would be so happy when you showed these to him. 

Feanor then caught your attention by tapping the table in front of you. 

“[The locket should work fine for now, but make sure to take care of it and not leave it somewhere where it could rust again, ]” Feanor explained. 

“[I will. Thank you,]” you signed. 

“[Now come on. I take you back to the entrance. You shouldn’t be here,]” he said, then stood up. 

You followed the elf out of the workshop, and you two then stood on the empty street while the celebration was still going in the distance. 

“[Do you need me to escort you back there?]” Feanor asked. 

“[No. My father is pretty easy to find, and I don’t think he even noticed that I’m gone. I’m pretty quiet after all, ]” you answered. 

“[Very well, and by the way,]” he said, making you look at him curiously. 

“[Your mother’s passing was not your fault. No matter how tragic it was, you are not at fault,]” he explained. 

You looked down for a moment. 

“[But others think differently,]” you said. 

“[There will always be people who will judge you for what you don’t have. Don’t let their words get to you. Otherwise, your life will become difficult and harder to enjoy,]” he signed.

 “[And remember, hearless or not, your mother would have loved you]” he added. 

The thought made you smile. Your mother had a weak body, but it didn’t mean she did not want you. Your father and the rest of the relatives always explained how she was excited to have you. 

She might be in Mandos, but she was going to return one day. 

“[I won’t. Thank you, Mr. Feanor,]” you said, and he softly smiled. 

“[Now get along now. Your father will notice your disappearance soon enough,]” he said. 

You then suddenly hugged his legs, making him look at you surprised. He then patted your head as you freed him and began making your way back to the party. You waved at him, and he waved in return till he saw you disappear into the crowds. 

Feanor returned to his workshop, feeling pleasant over the encounter. 

[sauron-kraut]

Summary: Mairon enjoys the new position he finds himself in with Melkor. Some reflection ensues. I'll stop with the puns now.

After writing his not-so-ideal mirror experience in Sugar I wanted to give Mairon another, more enjoyable one. Thus, catch me writing some Angbang.

Pairing: Melkor x Mairon

Words: 480

Warnings: explicit content, just a bit rough but everyone's enjoying themselves, pwp

As always: If you like this little piece, comments on AO3 are appreciated! 🖤

Not beta read!

Find the smut under the cut.

On Power

Mairon has never felt more powerful.

Might ripples through his entire being, enters him with each thrust into his body, which is alight, ready, and thrumming with thrill.

“Your legs.” Melkor’s voice reaches Mairon from behind him, like growling grey thunder in a summery vale, and Mairon spreads them wider. He lifts his chin to look at himself in the vast wrought iron mirror sitting above the bed, here in the Vala’s sleeping quarters, where the very walls pulse with his presence. No need for composure where power upholds. Mairon beholds his luscious red curls in disarray, dancing about his face, his cheeks flushed pink. He looks beautiful. On hands and knees, Mairon takes Melkor’s harsh thrusting, takes, takes, takes, with open thighs and open-mouthed as the mounting pleasure in his lower body wrenches ragged moans from his throat. Mairon whimpers, Mairon gasps.

Melkor hadn’t bothered to undress him properly, and neither had Mairon himself. He arches his back as Melkor drags the hem of his red and golden robe further up, his large hands wandering over Mairon’s backside, his thighs, his hips, more skin, more skin. A single low, rolling moan from Melkor. He must be close. Ravenous hunger rips through Mairon, seems to eat at his very bones. He feels stray warm droplets of his own arousal on his skin where his swollen flesh has brushed against his inner thigh. Mairon brings his hand to his lips, half covering his mouth, half biting. In the mirror, he watches as Melkor leans over him, until his bare chest is flush against Mairon’s back, wrapping his arm around his waist. “No, I want to hear you.” With his free hand, he removes Mairon’s fingers from his mouth, pushes his hand back onto the covers. Melkor slows the motions of his hips, makes them shallow, almost gentle. When he kisses Mairon’s earlobe, the Vala’s breathing trembles. Melkor’s raven hair curtains them both as he takes Mairon in hand, index finger stroking him with featherlight touches, smearing some of the liquid from the tip of Mairon’s length over his skin before he resumes taking him with what are now snapping, deep thrusts. Melkor’s hand moves faster. 

Mairon whimpers, Mairon pants. A wide grin forms on his lips. He watches as he reaches for the Vala’s face with one hand. Melkor kisses and licks his palm with abandon. Then, Mairon’s world narrows to the slickness between his legs, Melkor inside him, burning nerves, oil, heat, need, and Mairon lets go, tenses under Melkor’s hands, moaning obscenely, spilling himself over the Vala’s fingers and the bedding. 

Melkor pushes Mairon down by the neck. His face is pressed into the pillow, and Melkor’s thrusts shove his cheek across wet spots of his own release. Mairon twists his neck to look up at himself in the mirror. 

Mairon smiles, for he has never felt more powerful.

[cilil]

When Dior Eluchíl refuses to give up the Silmaril and the remaining sons of Fëanor are forced to act, Amras offers to infiltrate Doriath and steal the Silmaril. Unfortunately for him, he swiftly learns that Dior is not easily deceived and ends up being captured and kept as a hostage. While the Fëanorians are desperately trying to get him and the Silmaril back, Amras soon finds himself bonding with Dior's twin sons as well as his eerily charming captor, desperately craving the affection and closeness the Oath and Amrod's death have long taken from him; the very same Oath that may soon force his brothers to sacrifice him.

⟡ "The Silmaril that ever beckons" - Prologue/Chapter 1

⟡ "Plans and Preparations" - Chapter 2

⟡ "Into the Hidden Kingdom" - Chapter 3

⟡ "A Prince captured and a Ploy revealed" - Chapter 4

⟡ "Sibling Bonds and Sealed Letters" - Chapter 5

⟡ "The Hallowed Light" - Chapter 6

⟡ "Faithlessness and other Follies" - Chapter 7

⟡ "Touches that burn" - Chapter 8