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autumnshighlady · 8 months ago

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All I Gave You Is Gone (ACOTAR x The Silmarillion AU) - Chapter 1

RHYSAND'S SISTER X MAEDHROS

summary: The story begins with High Lord Rhysand’s sister, Ravenna, moments before her death. Before the sword is swung across her neck, she pleads to the Mother to rescue her, to intervene and get her out. Ravenna’s prayers are answered, and she wakes up in a strange land across the stars, far away from her home – Arda.

warnings: graphic violence

word count: 3.6k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this AU is so niche that most people probably don't know what the Silmarillion is - fear not! I will be writing it in a way that you won't need to know anything about lotr or the silm to understand it, as everything will be explained. I'm super excited for this series and I hope you guys grow to enjoy it. Any support is appreciated! Huge shoutout to the Anon that inspired this!

Screams rang through the shrieking wind, rattling Ravenna’s eardrums as a coppery tang filled her mouth. It was almost impossible to see anything amidst the smoke and rain, not that she wanted to be cursed with witnessing the horrifying scene. No, part of Ravenna was glad for the masking of the carnage.

The scent of blood choked her senses, closing up her throat and making her eyes burn. Her head throbbed from the impact of its collision on the nearby rock, stomach stinging in pain from the arrow laced with faebane that was lodged in her flesh. Through blurry vision, Ravenna lifted her head, groaning as every ounce of her body protested. Up above, the few fully trained Illyrian soldiers that were stationed at the war camp were falling from the sky, their lifeless bodies brutalised upon meeting the rocky ground. Hybern soldiers swarmed them like ants, their laughter echoing above the sounds of slaughter.

Tears pricked at Ravenna’s eyes as she inhaled deeply, immobilised by her wounds and the faebane arrow in her stomach that stifled her magic. She hadn’t even wanted to come here today to the Illyrian war camp with her mother, Nienna. They had fought over it – Ravenna had even offered to go to the Hewn City with her brother, Rhysand, then accompany her mother to Illyria. She hated it there. Everything from the leering males and the icy chill, to the sight of downtrodden females with their heads low and their wings clipped. Despite being half-Illyrian, Ravenna never felt any desire to spend time there.

Her black hair stuck to her face, clinging to her skin as the rain poured down. She lifted her wings, trying to flap them enough to get her body off the ground, but it was no use. They were dead weight on her back, too exhausted from the effects of the faebane to help her. Panic began to settle in as Ravenna realised she could not make her wings disappear with the poison in her veins. Her wings were a target now, a weak spot. Unable to defend herself, she was now a sitting duck.

As she laid there half-conscious, the screams eventually stopped, her blood turning to ice at the eerie silence from Illyrians in the war camp. Ravenna let out a sob. As Hybern soldier’s footsteps echoed on the hard ground, growing closer to where she was laying beside the rocks, she knew she was going to die.

“Hey! There’s one over here!” A gruff male voice called, followed by the sound of cheering.

No. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real.

Pathetically, Ravenna tried to drag herself away, fingernails breaking and scraping against the hard rock, efforts in vain. Panic rose in her chest as the sound of the soldier’s leering grew closer, closing in on her like a pack of wolves.

Thanks to the arrow, she had no magic to defend herself. Her asshole father, Ronan, the High Lord of the Night Court, had never even let her train to defend herself. She knew a couple moves from her sparring with Cassian and Azriel, but they were useless in this situation. Ravenna could hear Azriel’s voice in her head, pleading for her to get up and take a stand. But she couldn’t. Every muscle in her body was lifeless, her head spinning and aching with pain.

“Pretty little princess, all on her own...” One of the soldiers sneered, twirling his sword in his hands as he came to stand above her. She could practically smell his rotten breath amidst the blood covering his body that was not his own.

Ravenna tried to lift her head, but a dirty boot quickly connected with it with such force her neck snapped backwards, body jolting painfully. Fresh blood began to pour from the gaping wound on her forehead, and she cursed under her breath. Snide laughter sounded from above her, echoing in all directions as the world spun. “Nobody can help you now, princess.” One of the other soldiers said. “Not your half-breed brother, not your spy boyfriend. Certainly not your mommy.”

Ignoring the screaming pain, Ravenna opened her violet eyes and looked upwards at the soldier. Her gaze met his blood-stained face, then travelled down to his hands, eyes settling on what was grasped within them.

In his left hand was a familiar set of wings, tarnished with mud and dirt. Blood pooled onto the ground beneath them like a river. Bile rose in Ravenna’s throat as her gaze landed on his right hand.

And she screamed, raw and painfully.

In the soldier’s right hand was a severed head with long, dark locks identical to her own. Purple eyes were wide, face twisted in a frozen picture of agony, a female mid-scream. Bruises and scrapes were littered across the face, but it was unmistakable nonetheless.

It was Nienna. Her mother. The beautiful seamstress who had held Ravenna in her arms for countless nights, who taught her everything she knew. The female who kept her chin high, even as males sneered at her for her lowborn status. Dead. Dead before Ravenna’s very eyes.

Screams continued to rip through Ravenna, cursing the Hybern soldiers with promises of slow and agonising death. She didn’t care that she, too, was about to meet the same fate as her mother. As soldiers grabbed her arms and hauled her upright to her knees, she thrashed and fought like a wildcat. More hands grabbed her, steadying her slightly as she spat at them, tears streaming down her face.

“Hold her steady!” One of the soldiers snapped before bending down to sneer in her face. “It’s your turn, half-breed bitch. But first we gotta take care of those wings. Can’t have you flying away now, can we?”

“If you cut off my wings, I will flay you.” She spat in his face, screeching as one of the soldiers reached down and ripped the arrow out of her stomach, shredding the flesh as blood began pouring out of her faster.

The soldier snickered, his dark eyes brimming with hate as his twisted face stood mere inches from her own. “We won’t do that quite yet, that takes away half the fun. Your bitch mother bled to death when we ripped her wings from her body, so we didn’t get to enjoy her. We won’t make that same mistake with you.”

Ravenna howled furiously, sinking her canines into the nearby arm of a soldier as hard as she could. A whip cracked across her back in response, cleaving flesh from bone in one stroke as it shredded the material of her black dress. She bit down harder on the arm as pain blinded her, the blood of the soldier making her gag and eventually release him. At least her scream had been muffled.

Before she could curse them out again, she felt it. The presence of a cold, small blade against her wing. Right in the very spot she had seen scars on every female in the Illyrian camps.

No. No no no no.

She hadn’t even realised she was screaming the words out loud, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks as she begged and pleaded pathetically. Flying was her favourite thing to do. She would spend hours soaring through the skies, feeling the wind on her wings as she shot through the air like a shooting star. Sometimes she had flown hand in hand with Azriel above Velaris before their relationship had soured in the last few months, admiring the dazzling view of the city below. Flying was her peace.

Ravenna had accepted that she would die at the hands of the soldiers. But to die with her wings clipped would break something inside of her.

“Rhys!” She began screaming out her brother’s name mindlessly, despite the fact he was miles away and likely clueless as to what was going on in the war camp. “Rhys! Rhys!” She screamed over and over, praying that somehow he would show up out of nowhere and save her.

Her pleading only spurred the soldiers on more, and then that blade made an incision in the wing’s tendon near her back, the one that her wings relied on to carry her body. She barely even felt the physical pain from the slice as she screamed furiously, not just for herself, but for every female who had gone through this.

For decades, she had argued with her father over the practice of wing clipping. Gone head to head with the High Lord over it. Rhys would often have to step in, talking his father down from clipping his daughter’s own wings as punishment for slaughtering every male she could find who kept the practice going. Ravenna never cared how angry Ronan got with her over it, for she had no shame in taking it upon herself to try and end wing clipping. No matter how much he threatened her, yelled at her, she didn’t care. For she knew that she was untouchable – the people of Velaris loved her too much for the High Lord to get away with locking up or punishing his own daughter.

And now here she was, bleeding from that one tendon in her wings, rendered unable to fly for the rest of her life.

The soldiers whopped and cheered, spurred on by her tears as Ravenna cried angrily. Her body felt numb – a blessing as the Hybern soldiers began to brutalise her body with their fists, whips, and blades. Her skin was sliced and bruised and spat on, but she barely felt it. All she could feel was the hole inside her chest at the sight of her mother’s wings and head, now discarded on the cold, wet ground like trash.

Rain mixed with blood, blood mixed with tears, mud and grime becoming her second skin as Ravenna was pummelled into the ground. A barbed whip lashed at her skin, the soldiers having ripped open parts of her dress to expose her soft flesh like meat about to be butchered. The whirling black Illyrian tattoos that marked her body were now hidden behind red blood. They had begun at her left thigh and coming up across her hips and ribs, swirling up to the right side of her body across her back and collarbones then travelling down her arm. Now, they were marred, a ruined art piece at the hands of Hybern.

Please. Ravenna begged the Mother silently, teary gaze lifting up to the darkening sky where a few stars peeked out behind the rain clouds. Please help me. Get me away from here. Please, I will do anything. Just get me out of here.

She could have sword one of the stars brightened in response. Throughout lash after lash, she kept praying silently. Grimy hands groped at her flesh, digging into the fresh wounds and twisting her like a ragdoll. She closed her eyes, feeling the cold blade of a sword line up against the back of her neck, ready to swing down on it and cleave her head from her shoulders.

And then everything went bright, instead of the darkness that Ravenna had expected. White hot fire overtook her body, and then it all faded away.

****************

The first thing Ravenna felt was the wind on her skin. It was gentler than the harsh wind of Illyria, but still strong. It soothed her body, which felt lifeless. The rocks she was laying on felt different than before, and she realised it was dirt beneath her, not stone. Her throat was dry, mouth caked with blood as she inhaled a deep breath. The air was fresh, not stifled with the scent of the war camp’s death. It filled her lungs blissfully, and it took all her strength to crack open her eyes.

She was met by sunlight, blinding her momentarily before her eyes finally adjusted. From her position on the ground, she could make out soft, windswept grass on either side of a dirt road. She was in a valley, a mountain pass judging by the steep hills nearby and the narrow windingness of the path ahead.

Ravenna’s mind was still swirling as she fought to figure out where she was. The landscape was unlike anything she had seen before in the Night Court. There was something different here, something that unsettled her bones. It did not feel like Prythian, somehow.

Before she could go through what she knew of the landscape of the various other courts, voices sounded in the distance, along with hoofsteps. Ravenna stiffened, pushing herself up into a sitting position as the sound grew closer. But it did not sound like the rough, sneering voices of Hyberm. No, these voices were different. They were strong, but songlike, lilting up and down in tones unfamiliar to Ravenna. From the winding path emerged a small group of males on horseback. They donned silver armour, long hair flowing in the wind and revealing pointed ears. Ravenna’s brow furrowed. She had not seen fae like this before, but something in her gut told her they were different. Sure, they donned the same ethereal grace to them matched with pointed ears, but there was an unsettling difference between them and the fae males Ravenna had previously encountered. They did not have a predatory feel to them like most fae males, but seemed colder. Calculating.

And nonetheless, terrifying.

A male with long blonde hair shouted something and charged his horse forward, icy blue eyes fixated on Ravenna as his group followed. She could barely move her aching body, merely slumping in defeat as the horses surrounded her in a perfect circle, a various assortment of blades and arrows pointed at her. On instinct, Ravenna lifted her wings to shoot herself up into the sky away from the males, but with the incision made she could barely lift them off the ground.

Once again, she was defenceless.

A male with black hair and cold, grey eyes barked something at her in that unfamiliar language. Squinting against the bright sun, Ravenna looked up to meet his stare. He and the blonde male were the only ones without helms and armour – the leaders, she presumed. An eight-pointed star marked the centre of their embroidered white tunics, and red capes flowed behind them in the wind.

When she didn’t answer, the black-haired male repeated his question, angrier this time.

“I’m sorry…” She muttered, barely getting the words out due to her dry throat. “I don’t understand…”

This time, it was the blonde male who spoke up. “You speak the common tongue?” He asked, his voice less harsh but still with a lethal edge to it. She nodded.

“Who are you and why are you in the pass of Aglon?” He continued, pressing his blade against her throat. She swallowed – never before had she seen such a beautiful blade, marked with swirling inscriptions and metalwork that would impress the most prestigious blacksmith in the Night Court.

Evenly, she met his blue eyes, which scanned her up and down. Distaste and surprise came across his beautiful features as he seemingly focused on the blood covering her body rather than her wings. Finally, Ravenna realised her dress had all but been torn to shreds, revealing her wounded skin in places she would have preferred to cover up. She curled herself into a ball, hands desperately trying to cover the parts of herself that had been revealed by the rips in her dress.

But the males did not leer like she had anticipated. Even the dark-haired one who had snapped at her in that foreign language did not seem affected by her skin on display. He was more focused on her wings, which were covered in Illyria’s mud and dirt. Ravenna still trembled with fear in their presence, but at least they seemed better than Hybern thus far.

“The pass of… what?” She asked, even more confused. She had never heard of such a place before. Certainly not in Prythian. Where the hell was she and what happened?

“She’s a spy of the Dark Lord, brother.” The dark-haired male said, a hateful look in his eyes as he drew his bow. “Let us kill her and be done with it.”

“Put that away, Curufin.” The blonde one scolded with authority. “We are in Maitimo’s lands. He will decide what to do with her. Spy or not, she comes with us. He will have our heads if we kill her without his permission.”

Curufin rolled his grey eyes and retracted his bow. “As you wish, Tyelkormo.”

Ravenna’s mind reeled and the sound of the names being given, especially the last one. They were unlike anything she had heard before, leaving her even more confused. Was she dead? Was this some sort of strange afterlife? She shivered – by the way the wind bit at her cold skin, she knew she was very much alive.

The blond one whose name Ravenna’s brain hadn’t wrapped around took note of her shiver, huffing loudly before muttering something in another tongue to one of his guards. He swung a leg off of his grey horse and slid down onto the ground, walking over to where Ravenna sat in the dirt. Part of her instincts told her to run, to back away from this ethereal, too-perfect looking male. But another part of her was lured in by his beauty, as if some strange spell surrounded him.

She baulked as he came to stand over her, blue eyes mercilessly staring her down as if she were nothing more than a speck of dirt. The male was enormous, almost a foot taller than Cassian was. Long, silver-blonde hair flowed over his shoulders, two small braids behind each ear trailing down beside his neck. Jewellery adorned his pointed ears, which were similar in shape to her own. Based on his elaborate-looking attire this male was of a decent status wherever they were.

The blonde male unclasped his cloak, tossing the fabric towards Ravenna. She caught it, the material soft as clouds in her hands as she wrapped it around herself, grateful for the warmth.

But there was no warmth in the male’s eyes as he barked at her, “Get up.”

Keeping the cloak wrapped around her blood-soaked body, Ravenna pushed herself up. But her legs buckled, sending her tumbling painfully back to the ground. She hissed in pain, pressing her hand into her stomach where the wound from the arrow was. Her fae healing had kicked in enough that it began to slowly heal, but not nearly fast enough.

“Are you incapable of following orders and standing up?” He hissed angrily.

Despite her pain and exhaustion, fire lit in Ravenna’s veins at his attitude. “I’m not exactly in a position to do so without struggle.” She snapped, unfolding the cloak just enough to reveal the large, unmistakable arrow wound in her stomach.

His blue eyes followed, assessing the wound with impatience. “You’ll live.”

“Unfortunate for you.” She shot back, temper heightened by the ache in her wings.

The male scoffed. “Do you even know who I am?”

“No.”

“I am Lord Celegorm, Prince of the Noldor and third son of Fëanor.” He stuck his chin arrogantly in the air.

Ravenna took a deep breath to steady herself, slouching and rolling her eyes. “I must have hit my head pretty hard. I have no fucking clue what any of that means.”

Surprise crossed Celegorm’s face, and he exchanged an uneasy look with his brother. Curufin shrugged, muttering something in that strange tongue before turning his grey eyes back towards Ravenna. “And who exactly are you, may I ask?” He said dryly.

“Ravenna,” She said. “Princess of the Night Court. Daughter of Ronan, the High Lord.” She introduced herself in a similar manner to Celegorm, snorting at the confusion that continued to grow on his face.

“What are you talking about?” He snapped. “There is no such a court here, or a Lord Ronan.”

Ravenna shrugged. “Now you know how I feel, I guess. Believe me, I don’t know where the hell I am or how I got here. I am just as confused as you. I mean you no harm, I swear by the Mother.”

“That will be for Maitimo to judge.” Was all Celegorm said before reaching down for Ravenna’s trembling, weak body. She did not have time to protest or process what was happening as he reached underneath her wings and legs, lifting her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. The world swayed as she was picked up. Thankfully, he did so in such a manner she remained covered with the cloak.

Still, she did not like being manhandled. “Put me down!” Ravenna hissed furiously, writhing as best she could in his grip. But it was no use – between her weakness, lack of powers, and Celegorm’s sheer size and strength, it was pointless.

Celegorm lifted her onto his horse and set her on the front end of the saddle before climbing up behind her. She winced in pain as his large frame brushed against the incision on her wings. “Watch the wings.” She snapped.

“We are taking you to our eldest brother.” Celegorm said, ignoring her protest but leaning back ever so slightly and relieving the contact on her wings. “He can decide what to do with you. It is half a day’s journey from here, so I suggest you rest while you still can.”

All Ravenna could do was sigh and hold onto the horse’s mane as the prince sent the group forward up the winding mountain pass. She had come no closer to figuring out where she was, or who these strange fae-looking people were.

And she had half a day to do her best to figure it out.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @decadentpostnacho @

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bougainvillea-and-saltwater · 19 days ago

Note

get 🫵 asked ‼️

2, 23, 25 for jia

H for jiraak

and 🤝 for you >:3

HELLO BELOVED‼️ I'M MOST VERILY GETTING ASKED, THANK YOU SO MUCH! 🥰💖

2. First time meeting their best friend

answered here!

23. First display of their powers or abilities

answered here!

25. First major success in their story

Oh, definitely killing Alduin! And it’s a double success for Jia, because she had just come out of a very serious injury back then—at her first battle in the Throat of the World, the World-Eater almost ripped her arm off. Her shoulder and collarbone broke, all her left side down to her pelvic bone was marked by huge claw marks, and on top of that, she was launched into a rock and hit her head. I think that, if not for Paarthurnax who carried her away to High Hrothgar and the Greybeards who healed her afterwards, Jia would be dead. Imagine a person, even a Dragonborn, carrying on after that, striding into Sovngarde with hope in the heart still, killing a God, and saving the world. I’m just so proud of her…😭

H. First time sharing a bed (non-sexual)

AH, it was at Candlehearth Hall in Windhelm! Jia had just come out of Ulfric’s palace, where he’d made a very tempting but ambiguous offer to her, and while she and Miraak had rented separate rooms, she couldn’t sleep alone that night, she was very nervous and restless. Nothing happened between them, except that they found comfort in each other’s arms for the first time in forever… Here’s the part from the fic:

“I don’t want to stay alone tonight.” Her confession, as if it is a stretched rope, on one side of which hangs the trust and safety, and on the other the reserve and indecision. “Can I lay down with you? Just—Just to sleep together.” She hastens to clarify when she detects Miraak’s look touched by a tint of darkness, and a breath is caught in his throat. It should be desire, she acknowledges, but it is neither profane nor carnal. No, it is the first time she sees a feeling so pure yet so ardent sculpted on a man’s face like a brand. And maybe there are indeed many things Miraak lusts to act upon now, this moment when he is almost losing his mind from all this—all this hunger. Without words necessary, they lie down on the harsh, unkempt bed that welcomes the sleepers with prickling straw for a mattress and timbers full of splinters for a bedstead. But to Jia and Miraak, this is a luxurious bed made for lords and jarls and Kings, soft and restful for the weariest travelers. Because this is a bed where they no longer lie alone and wanting, but next to each other and so during the night, their dreams may get interweaved, and their darkest secrets may get buried inside one another’s skin; if they still have any secrets left untold.

🤝 - Favorite "first meeting" scene you've written between two characters

God will punish me for this, for I have sinned, but my favorite first meeting is… is between Jia and Caranthir… OKAY, LET ME EXPLAIN.

There’s this sinister atmosphere when these two meet; you know something very bad will happen, you know Jia is in grave danger, you know he’s like a vulture who scrutinizes its prey to destroy it, and at the same time, you can see the glint of obsession in him, his sadistic need, even his secret, twisted infatuation with her.

For a moment, he stands there, towering above her shackled, paralyzed form, his eyes glinting in gloated triumph and leering at every feature of her face. As the realization finally strikes him, a scathing grin twitches the edges of his mouth. “We Altmer, you know, have a long memory. And this head right here,” he says, slowly dragging his palm above her head, a travesty of a tender gesture, “reminds me of the one I took from the shoulders of a certain Imperial about... twenty years ago. Ah, such a troubled man he was that one. However, as he was churning in his lunacy, he kept murmuring two names—the one belonged to his Nord paramour, and the other couldn’t have appertained to anyone else than…” His hand viciously balls into a fist within her hair and whispers, “You might have poisoned the other morons, but know that I cannot be put down by the likes of you. Worry not; I have something for you, bastard. A gift—a repayment in kind, for all the things you have done and all those you might have done if I had not trapped your inexistent brain with that exposed wine cup. And I will rejoice to listen to your cries and pleadings for mercy and swift end... Elettra.”)

The fact that he knows her true name, the fact that he knows everything about her as he instantly understands she’s Remus’ daughter. He’s AWFUL but I like to think he’s a mastermind...

#ask game #oc: jia #oc: caranthir #miraak x ldb #otp: twin flames #the priest and the dragoness

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lamemaster · 1 year ago

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The Glorious One

Request: Hi. I was wondering if you could write a fic, where Maedhros comes back from Angband and finds the female elf reader with a child and assumes she had given up on him and moved on. He decides to stay away from her life. The reader comes to him with their son, but he keeps his distance and still believes he ( son ) is someone else's son. Their son decides to participate in the war. Only for him to find out that the boy is his, after his death in the war. The reader and Maedhros had a heartfelt moment in the end.I hope you can understand this and it doesn't sound too confusing and complicated.

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: Angst (caution- 100% concentrated angst)

Word Count: 3k

AN: Thanks for the request I loved writing it. Also, Baldur has been a long-time OC of mine so lmk if you would like to know more about it.

Part 2

The peaceful shores of Nevrast offer little comfort to your heart. The unease that hasn’t left you for the past months has followed you there.Yet, you wander these shores looking for the last hope. Your only hope.

Turgon had become your last resort. It was nearly a year since Maedhros’ capture and you were close to exhausting your options. The only remaining option now seemed to be Turgon.

Related to you by your aunt Anaire, your mother’s sister, you believed Turgon to be the only one who could help you find Maedhros. You had begged Maglor and pleaded to an unrelenting Celegorm. You tried everyone but none answered.

But now that you find yourself closer to Turgon’s averting eyes, where lingers no love for his once half-cousin, you wonder if it were to be you. You would have left long ago, had there not been kicking signs of life in your belly. Yours and Maedhros’ child.

You found it no later than when you first received the news of your beloved’s ambush. And now it became the only tether that kept you away from Maedhros. Maybe you had expected him to be back, for someone to care for him, for anyone of his extensive kin to go look for him.

You desired for him to be here for the news. You wanted him to witness your growing belly or be there for the mornings of your sickness. You never talked about having children of your own but you knew how much it would have pleased Maedhros. How much he would love his child.

So, by the quiet shores of the Nevrast, you wait for a time when you will be able to go look for your Nelyo. When you would be able to reunite the father of your child with them.

The pains of your labor pass in the halls of Turgon. The day that you wished to spend by Maedhros is spent alone in pain. It seems unending and there is no one to hold your hand as your body tears itself. But that too passes away when you hear his first cries.

Baldur, your son enters the world with shrill cries that drown yours. And just like this hope springs back into your life. He has come and Maedhros would as well.

It is that day you start counting the time that you would be allowed to go look for Maedhros. One day when your son would be old enough to be by himself and you could bring Maedhros back.

You spend years raising Baldur, who inherits your hair but glimpses of Maedhros reflect from his face. Cherishing every moment of his little life. Writing every passing moment down for when you will meet Maedhros.

So, it comes as a surprise when you hear the news of Maedhros’s return. Fingon rescued him from the cliffs of the Thangodrim. Holding your son Baldur’s little hand you make your way to Hirming. And on your way, you tell your son all of his father’s tales, his valor, his speech, his kindness, everything you remember your Maedhros as.

What greets you in Hirming is not a warm welcome…you did not expect that but a sense of hostility fills the air. Something that you did not expect to encounter. Not on the occasion of Maedhros’s return.

In your arms, Baldur excitedly whispers the name of each of his uncles. At least he tries to from whatever he can remember. Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curfin, Amrod, Amras, you have told him of all his uncles. Every single one of the big family he belongs to, even the ones separated by the sea.

“I must meet Maedhros,” you ask of Maglor who stops you outside of Maedhros’ door. Despite burying his head in your shoulder you can feel Baldur’s curiosity towards his uncles. The merry swing of his legs betray his excitement but your son has promised for Maedhros, his father to be the first one to be the one who he looks at. So, your darling waits with the patience of the most obedient elfling.

You, however, unlike Baldur face the disdain on Maglor’s face who does not budge from the door. “Brother is unwell,” your heart drops at his words but Maglor continues, “Please leave.” Curt words grate on your nerves. There lingers a dangerous edge of Feanorian rage hidden in your brother-in-law’s voice.

A dreadful sorrow fills your entire being as you re-adjust Baldur in your arms.

“You don’t unde-”

“I understand well enough and so does Maitimo. We have all honored your wish to choose another so leave. Do not burden my brother with any more grief. Do not make him witness your child with another,” words that leave Maglor’s mouth leave you numb.

“I would not…you know that Laure,” you try to explain to the ellon who does not believe anything that leaves your mouth.

“My brother has honored you enough to offer you a home in Hirming but nothing more. So honor him in return and stay away.” Yet your mind focuses only on the slight wetness on your shoulder. Your son’s tears dampen your gown. Little hands that clutch your fabric close in a fist. How could he, who you shielded from every hurt, how could he be bared to such cruelty?

Your truth and your son’s truth go unheard. And you let it be for the prince you once knew to be your husband. The one who escapes your every sight.

Maybe it is your last favor to him. A mercy of sparing him of the bond he seems to deny so vehemently. You do not burden him, who has suffered enough.

Concealed behind the thick curtains of his room, Maedhros observes you leave. His heart drowning in what seems the most painful of hurts. Moments ago, what had been his unconcealed joy now turns into despair.

He had felt the familiar flutter of his heartbeat your voice albeit strained but it had been your voice. The one he had craved for years of his capture. The voice of love from Valinor, the voice who stood by even in the hour of their dreadful doom. Your voice.

But the reality of the present comes crashing down. His brothers had told him of your choice. Your binding to another who lived in Nevrast. And despite all that happened, despite your betrayal, Maedhros could not blame you. It was for better that you remained away from the Maedhros of middle earth. It was better that for you he will always be the Nelyafinwe of Aman. Unscared ellon you loved. Not the broken husk he had become. And maybe just the act of your care of coming to visit him was enough. It was enough for Maedhros. He could not ask more of you.

He watches you leave his tower, it is then that he notices the mass on your shoulder, and his heart skips a beat. Resting on your shoulder is a mop of hair similar to yours. A tiny squished face and dazed slightly reddened eyes of an elfling. Your son. Yours and someone else’s, who wasn’t him, who he could never be.

Years later as Maedhros walks the paths of his celebrating soldiers, he for the first time feels the thrum of joy run through his veins. Dagor Aglareb, the glorious battle had been glorious indeed. A win against the dark lord.

The air feels fresher and the walls of Hirming more welcoming than they ever did. Maybe there was hope for them. With a thousand future plans forming in the eldest Feanorian’s brain, the victorious battalion made their way to the fortress.

Yet, despite the joy that fills the party, the first night of the return is mellow. It is spent to honor the ones lost for the cause. There is a small number of them but that makes it even more important to honor those who took the fall for the cause of this world.

Heroes in their own right. It is members of a small segment led following an onslaught of a chunk of the orc army. Numbers smaller than the ones surviving. It is what most would call not a heavy loss.

Carrying the list of departed, Maedhros spends the night comforting the families. He sits next to grieving wives and lamenting daughters. He does that earnestly. Their tears become his and their burden his. But he does not stop.

So, the world falls silent when his steps land him in front of your door. The one he has ignored for so long. And Maedhros’ heart thunders and an ominous feeling haunts him, leaving goosebumps lining his arms.

Baldur, Captain of the guard. Died following a party of orcs. The words written on his list haunt him. The handle to your door is cold. There is a solitary chill that creeps through the wooden door.

Pushing open the door, Maedhros pauses as he takes in the scene in front of him. The entire room lies in disarray and in the middle of the broken glass pieces, a sea of cloaks, coats, pieces of paper, are seated you.

With your hair undone, your hands bleeding onto the floor as pieces of glass dig deep into your skin. Maedhros finds you. Your face is full of blood, for a fleeting moment it alarms Maedhros only for you to smear it further as you wipe your tears.

“Baldur,” your voice is a whisper as your hug a cloak close to you. “Baldur,” you repeat and Maedhros notices how hoarse your voice is. He steps closer but you do not notice him.

“I am sorry for your loss,” formal words feel awkward on his tongue. “He was a great soldier. A captain worthy of his title,” Maedhros strings sentiments that do not come easy to him. He tries to imagine the captain he cannot remember. A distant face, he had not known to be your son. “Your son’s body is retrieved. You may ask his father-”

“His father will not come,” you interrupt him. Your voice so distant. Maedhros aches to hold you. Even through this, a sense of rage fills him. The unfairness of the ellon who left you to bear this alone. “Why not?” Maedhros questions back.

“He does not know of his son. His father never knew how much his son cherished him. How much that child wished to be with him.” a cold seeping fear fills Maedhros. But he does not stop his next question. He cannot stop himself from asking you, “Who is it?” In some sense, he knows the answer.

You do not answer him. But Maedhros does not need words to know. He gingerly picks up one of the papers littered around you. It is written in a handwriting he has never seen but it feels hauntingly familiar nonetheless.

Silence hangs heavy between you, the unspoken truths and the untold years of longing stretching out in the space. The ache in his chest grows unbearable as he takes in the sight of you, battered by grief and loss. His voice trembles as he finally speaks the words that have been lodged in his throat for far too long.

"I am sorry," he whispers, his voice laced with regret and a pang of profound sadness. “I am sorry,” he repeats as his soul seems to be ripping itself.

Dearest Father,

The day I meet you, I shall immediately demand my Ataresse. You must name with pride. Every day I work hard for that day. For that fated day when you will recognize me as your son. I know it will come and how proud you will be of me. I will work hard for it.

I wonder about you a lot. All of you. I have heard your tales from Mother, from your soldiers who seem to admire and respect you more than the Valar themselves. Father, your strength, your kindness, your valor, I admire them all. I hope that I too can become likes of you one day.

Your empathy for trying to save the boats, your humility in passing the crown to grand uncle Nolofinwe, your strength in remaining unyielding to the enemy. I love them all. Mother tells me that I am as tall as you and that I speak just like you. You must tell me if that is true when we meet.

My mother loves you intensely. She speaks of you with such fondness that even I cannot help but be endeared to you, who I have never met. I too wish to find to love like that once in my lifetime. But I shall only do that once I unite you and Mother.

And when that happens I will meet all my uncles and ask them more about you and them. I am writing this letter as I wait for the Hirming guard to respond back to my recruitment. I hope this step brings me closer to you.

Until then father, I will pray that you will love me.

With all my love,

Baldur

Dearest Father,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. It has been some time since I last wrote to you, and there are many things I wish to share with you.

I have recently been appointed as a squire to one of the knights of Hirming. It is a great honor, and I am learning a great deal from him. He speaks highly of your prowess in battle and your strategic brilliance. I strive to emulate your skills and make you proud.

Mother often tells me stories of your adventures and the battles you fought. She speaks of your unwavering courage and unwavering loyalty to your kin. I am in awe of your bravery, and I long to be a warrior like you.

Father, I have been practicing my archery skills diligently. I can now hit the target from greater distances, and I am improving my accuracy. I hope that one day, I will be as skilled as you were with a bow and arrow. I know you would be pleased to see my progress.

Sometimes, I sit beneath the stars and imagine what it would be like to have you by my side. To learn directly from you, to hear your words of wisdom, and to feel the strength of your embrace. I yearn for that day, Father, when we can be together as father and son.

I often wonder if you think of me, if you know of my existence. I hope that one day, you will hear of my achievements and be proud of the son you have. I dream of the moment when we will finally meet, when I can look into your eyes and see the love that only a father can give.

Until that day comes, Father, I will continue to train and strive to be the best version of myself. I will carry your name and your legacy with honor. I will make sure that the world knows of the great Maedhros and the love he has for his son.

With all my love and longing,

Baldur

Dearest Father,

Guess what?! Something amazing has happened! I can hardly contain my excitement as I write this letter to you!

I am thrilled to share with you that I have been chosen as the Captain of the Guard in Hirming! Can you believe it? I get to lead a whole group of brave warriors and protect our people. It's like a dream come true! I'm walking on air, Father!

Every day, I put on my shiny armor and hold my head high, just like you would. I feel so important and strong, just like the great Tulkas himself! Everyone looks up to me, and I make sure to lead with courage and honor, just like you taught me through Mother's stories.

Oh, Father, I can't help but imagine the day when I will finally meet you face to face. I'll run up to you, all covered in armor, and say, "Father, it's me, Baldur, your son!" And we'll hug and laugh and talk about all the adventures we'll have together.

I'm training harder than ever, Father. I want to be strong and skilled, just like you. Every swing of the sword, every strategic move, brings me closer to you. I can almost feel your presence guiding me, cheering me on. I'll make you proud, Father, I promise!

I have so many questions to ask you when we finally meet. I want to hear about all your epic battles, your wise words, and the lessons you've learned. And I can't wait to share my own stories with you too! We'll have the grandest adventures together, just you and me.

Until that magical day arrives, Father, know that I carry you in my heart always. Your spirit fuels my determination and gives me the courage to face any challenge. I'm counting down the days until we can be together, to laugh, to fight, and to create memories that will last a lifetime.

With overflowing excitement and love,

Your enthusiastic son, Baldur

Cheers of victory fill the empty field where Baldur lies. A smile creeps on his face. They made it. They had won. His father won.

The sword that impales him seems to pin him to the ground but Baldur cannot care. Even as shreds of his soul are ripped from his body, the ellon is full of pride.

The world blurs as his breaths come uneven and maybe he is indeed lost in a trance when he sees a blurry outline come walking towards him. He squints his eyes but it is hard to distinguish the battered armor that seems to be heading his way.

“Father,” he calls but no one replies.

Alcarinque, Maedhros names his son. The glorious one, who died in the glorious battle.

#the silmarillion #tolkien elves #noldor elves #silmarillion x reader #angst #maedhros x reader #maedhros

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eunoiaastralwings · 2 years ago

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

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

pairing elves x reader (separate)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist form

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

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

Imladris taglist: @queenstarlight2

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findroleplay · 5 months ago

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hey hey everyone! I know this may be a long shot, but I am absolutely begging for some LOTR/Silmarillion rps.

I’m hoping to find the following pairings to write:

Maedhros or Maglor (me) against Elrond or Elros (you) (platonic/kidnap fam)

Elrond (me) x Celebrian (you) (romantic)

Finrod (me) x Amarië (you) (romantic)

Haleth (you) x Caranthir (me) (romantic)

Maedhros (me) x Female Oc (you) (romantic)

Glorfindel (me) x Female Oc (you) (romantic)

Legolas (me) and Aragorn (you) (platonic)

I am a literate writer and ten to write 300+ words per response, and I’m hoping to find people willing to write at least a few replies a week on discord. I am 21, but I don’t write with anyone below 19. If you’re interested, please like and I’ll reach out!

#rp #roleplay #LOTR rp #Silmarillion rp

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cilil · 8 months ago

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rare pair bingo

Here's an overview of my progress for the TPC rare pair bingo!

So far, prompts have been combined with prompts from other series (and I might do that again if I start another drabble challenge), but I'm also open to suggestions for pairings and/or prompts as standalone pieces!

⸙ Hand Holding: Winter drabbles, Oromë x Vána

⸙ Staring from across: Femslash February, Galadriel x Amarië

⸙ Blushing: Curumo x Aiwendil

⸙ Getting lost: Femslash February, Uinen x Tar-Míriel

⸙ Gift giving: Femslash February, Lótelissë x Litsaiwa

⸙ Cultural misunderstanding: Winter drabbles, Manwë x Varda

⸙ Soulmate goose of enforcement: Anairë x Eärwen

⸙ First snowfall: Femslash February, Aredhel x Elenwë

⸙ And they were roommates: Míriel x Nerdanel

⸙ Flowers: Winter drabbles, Findis x Elemmírë

⸙ Candle light: Winter drabbles, Námo x Vairë

⸙ Hand feeding: Femslash February, Ungoliant x Thuringwethil

⸙ Free space - righteous fury: Mairon x Arien

⸙ Who did this to you: Femslash February, Arien x Ilmarë

⸙ Sparring practice: Winter drabbles, Eönwë x Arafinwë x Ingwion

⸙ Twinkle in their eye: Femslash February, Varda x Yavanna

⸙ Exploring a new place: Uinen x Elwing

⸙ Spin the bottle: Finrod x Caranthir

⸙ Horseback riding: Femslash February, Vána x Éowyn

⸙ Annoyances to lovers: Femslash February, Nári (OC) x Thuringwethil

⸙ Picnic: Winter drabbles, Irmo x Estë

⸙ Climbing a tree: Winter drabbles, Aulë x Yavanna

⸙ Workplace rivals: Winter drabbles, Maglor x Elemmírë

⸙ Hanahaki disease: Winter drabbles, Mairon x Arien

⸙ Drinking game: Tulkas x Oromë

𓆸 Prostate stimulation: Hador x Fingolfin

𓆸 Deep-throat: Fëanor x Manwë

𓆸 Body shots: Vána x Éowyn

𓆸 One-bar prison: Gothmog x Eönwë

𓆸 First time: Dark romance, Melkor x Mairon (x Arien)

𓆸 Leather: Mairon x Maeglin

𓆸 Fuck or die: Fingolfin x Maglor

𓆸 Strap-ons: Haleth x Caranthir

𓆸 Overstimulation: Dark romance, Glorfindel x Erestor

𓆸 Mutual masturbation: Screw Yule, Nienna x Nerdanel

𓆸 Humiliation: Turgon x Caranthir

𓆸 Predator/prey: Melkor x Ungoliant

𓆸 Free space - ritual: Dark romance, Mairon x Witch King

𓆸 Knotting: Screw Yule, Mairon x Finrod

𓆸 Phallic gags: Maglor x Imladris crew

𓆸 Medical kink: Fëanor x reader (2nd person)

𓆸 Glory hole: Fëanor x Finarfin

𓆸 Angry sex: Melkor x Manwë

𓆸 Masks: Maeglin x Lords of Gondolin

𓆸 Interspecies sex: Dark romance, Melkor x Maedhros x Fingon

𓆸 Naked sub/clothed dom: Ar-Pharazôn x Mairon

𓆸 Hypnosis: Elrond x River Spirit

𓆸 Messy sex: Glofindel x Erestor x Ecthelion

𓆸 Pet play: Dior x Amras

𓆸 Feet: Maglor x Lúthien

𓆸 Extra - handjob: Arien x Eönwë

#rare pair bingo #tpcrarepairbingo #overview #masterlist #cílil writes #my writing

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years ago

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Maedhros

Here's the second part of @noldorinpainter's beautiful work for my fic!

Blood

Here depicted,

Maedhros

first-born of Nerdanel and Fëanor - minder and watcher of his brothers - born a vampire - master at denying himself - having a very bad time trying to get Agnes back

Maedhros, a character who sneaks in everywhere! He'll have a really bad time until...he doesn't.

As always, please support the artist @noldorinpainter who was a delight to work with!

Lots of love from me!!!

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witchofhimring · 11 months ago

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To you who is lost (Masterlist) Coming soon!

Synopsis:

They tell the story of the men and handful of women who left Valinor, out of bliss and into woe. But this is the tale of those they left behind. Their wives and daughters lament alongside the Valar in their grief. They may fight no battles, but their trials are just as heartbreaking.

One of these women is Y/n. Already an outsider in this family Y/n finds herself an outsider in the court of Finarifin. Her husband and father-in-laws actions are condemned her. Although Prince Finarfin supports her Y/n must find a way to stand on her own accord.

Pairings: Maedhros x Reader

(Minor) Maglor x OC, Celegorm x Aredhel, Feanor x Nerdanel, Curufin x OC, Caranthir x OC, Fingolfin x Anaire, Finrod x Amarie, Finarfin x Earwen

Warnings: angst, abandonment, mentions of divorce, pregnancy, childbirth

Chapters:

Duty is the death of love

The girl with daisies

Throw up those stone walls

More to come!

#maedhros x reader #the silmarillion x reader #silmarillion x reader #the silm x reader #maedhros #maglor #silmarillion #the silm #the silmarillion #celegorm #celegorm x aredhel #feanor x nerdanel #fingolfin x anaire #finrod x amarie #finarfin x earwen #finarfin #nerdanel #maitimo x reader

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thelien-art · 1 year ago

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✨21-25 Yule and Advent Games 2023✨

All ends on the 31. Dec 2023

Lots will be drawn for all the winners from each day in the end so there is only one winner

The more games you are in the bigger the chances that you win!

What can you win?

21-25 Yule;

You can win a drawing in my usual style, with full body as the largest, and up to three characters! If you want a drawing of an animal - or an animal to appear, it will take the place of one of the characters.

Advent;

You can win a chibi drawing with a simple background, with the highest number of characters in it being two!

I won´t draw any of these to the winner: mechs, NSFW, heavy gore, or furry, all of these, are simply because I can´t (and irl people)

I will draw: OCs, animal companies, etc

The rules are:

1. You have to reblog and write down your guess to the answer in the reblog, (I don´t care if your answer is in the tags or not, both count)

2. You have to follow me

3. If more than one guesses right, I will pick one randomly

4. If nobody guesses right, I will still pick one randomly

5. You can guess until the 31. dec

I will DM the winner, and yes I will draw OCs and things from other fandoms if that is what the winner wants

If there are any questions just ask!

Advent;

Day 1, Finarfin: Find the six petaled flower (a depiction of one, such as in an embroidery etc. - not a real one)

Day 2, Fingolfin: Find his sigil - extra point if you can find more than one

Day 3, Feanor: Find Crablor

Yule;

Day 1, Galadriel x Celeborn: Count the fruits and the flowers

Day 2, Luthien x Beren: Where can Luthien´s sigil be found?

Day 3, Caranthir x Haleth: Where is the pine tree?

Day 4, Maedhros x Fingon: How many colors are used in the glass of the windows?

Day 5, Melkor x Mairon: How many Wolves can you find?

#christmas game #forgot to post this yesterday #oops

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between-thepages · 10 months ago

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For the oc x canon ask game, please!

🕷️ : basic description of your oc?

🌑 : what was the canon character’s first impression of them, and what do they think of them now?

🩸 : what does your oc think of canon character?

Thank you for the ask <3

You're getting the answers for both of my OC x canon pairings, just because I want to talk about them :3

🕷️ : basic description of your oc?

Astoril:

Tall, blond Sindar, probably wearing armour (he's part of the Rivendell Guard) and carrying a bow.

Gwaewiel:

She's a Vanya, though the only thing giving it away once they settle in Beleriand is her eagle necklace. She's blonde (as well xD) and mostly wears clothing similar to that of the Sindar or Edain. Prefers to fight with a spear.

🌑 : what was the canon character’s first impression of them, and what do they think of them now?

Elladan (on Astoril):

Elladan's first impression was that Astoril was unbelievably cool, in a sort of childhood hero worship way. They did not interact much until Elladan was an adult as well.

Now it's less hero worship and more appreciation of Astoril's skill with bow and blade, and since they finally got together Elladan no longer has to pretend he isn't watching when Astoril trains.

Caranthir (On Gwaewiel):

The first thought was probably "She's weird, her dress is closed wrong." Then she asked him for a dance, and while that only made her more strange, he liked it.

Now, the best description is probably soulmates. They're both so different in many ways but similar in even more. He can count on her to understand him, no matter how bad his word choices are.

🩸 : what does your oc think of canon character?

Astoril on Elladan:

Elladan is a sweetheart, and Astoril is very proud that he is trying his best to find his own way.

Gwaewiel on Caranthir:

He's home. Gwaewiel might be a warrior, but there is still no place that feels safer than his study, and she could spend hours just sitting there while he works.

#answered asks #ask game #my ocs #oc: astoril #oc: gwaewiel #caranthir/gwaewiel #astoril/elladan

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lamemaster · 2 years ago

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And the Time Stopped (Caranthir x Male Reader)

An: I wrote this as Caranthir x OC for ao3. I changed OC into the reader for Tumblr. I think it is cute and if you would like to read more of it in Caranthir x male reader format let me know.

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: He exhaled a sigh of relief when the gardens remained quiet as ever. An unnoticed smile crept on the face of the broodiest Feanorian. If anyone were to witness the scene of Morifinwe crouched in a random bush smiling at the ground, they would probably knock on the doors of the nearest healer.

One step and he would lose all the progress. A distant sane part of Carnistir’s mind wondered what the hell was he doing. Telperion’s bloom was halfway through. Sleepy elflings loitering in the streets had been long tucked in their bed by their parents. It was a mellow evening.

Yet, for the fourth son of crown prince Feanor, it was a night of adventure he never remembered asking for. He was hanging from the second highest branch of the tree right next to the window of his room that too without making the wood creak. He was sure that his face was probably flushed red by now.

Somehow, Carnistir had snuck out without alerting the other 6 menaces that resided in the same house as him. He was particularly proud of escaping from Turco, the famed hunter of Oromë.

Praying for the last time Carnistir swung his legs and let go of his hands holding the branch. He aimed to land farthest from the wall of his house to avoid alerting anyone of his plan. The Illuvatar listened to his pleas as he landed lightly on his feet closer to the other end of their garden. As soon as his feet touched the ground Carnistir rolled his body towards a bush and waited for any sign of disturbance.

He exhaled a sigh of relief when the gardens remained quiet as ever. An unnoticed smile crept on the face of the broodiest Feanorian. If anyone were to witness the scene of Morifinwe crouched in a random bush smiling at the ground, they would probably knock on the doors of the nearest healer.

His strategy had been way too good for anyone to even suspect him. Unknown to the crouching ellon, his smile turned into a frightening smirk similar to that of a dark lord marveling at their work. Ignorant of his facial expressions Carnistir reminisced about the evening when he started to work on his scheme.

“BAM!” He had slammed the front door of their house. His hair was messed up in a fashion that reassembled a bird’s nesting preference. His face was bright red with evident rage, which unknown to anyone was not really rage but the succession of quick laps he had run in the unfrequented woods.

“Carn—” Nerdanel, who was in the process of forcing Pityo into his chair to eat, stopped mid-sentence when she saw him. Carnistir felt guilt creep up his gut, but he continued his power walk to his room. This had to be flawless. This would be the building block of ensuring everything ran smoothly for the night. Mentally he apologized to his mother, if it were to be another day, he would’ve helped her with the twins but not today.

As he reached his door, he could hear Ambarussa chattering and Nerdanel shushing them. “No, you cannot go to Moryo today.” The statement was followed by collective whining to which he heard his mother replying in hushed tones.

Not known to many, there was an unchallenged rule in the Feanorian household. It was a rule respected by all the members of the family, even the rowdy Ambarussar had to uphold it, albeit reluctantly.

In a house full of artisans, it was not uncommon for one-third of the house to have a temper tantrum on a particular day. His father’s frustration with metals, Makalaure’s writer’s block, or his mother’s pilling commissions. It was bound to create tensions. So, the household of Feanor made it a rule to respect an artist’s justifiable irritation and stay out of the person’s way. After several family meetings, it was decided that in case of a rough day the person would be left alone. No one would interrupt the internal war of the fuming member.

It wasn’t surprising that Feanor, Curvo, and Carnistir were the leading participants in this exercise, which was the reason that it came to him like second nature. Thus, it was arranged that no one would be troubling him tonight.

Breaking away from his reverie Carnistir dusted his robes. He had made sure to dress in something darker for the night. After contemplating for an hour, he had settled for a dark-brown velvet tunic. He had himself embroidered its seams with gold thread. As a precautionary measure, he patted his braids, making sure nothing had come undone.

As if remembering on cue he patted his inner pockets. It would be all for nothing if he forgot the book. Much to his relief, he could feel the minute outlines of the book.

After looking around for a pair of redheads sneaking around for the last time Carnistir huffed and started making his way toward Tirion’s public library.

As he walked the relatively quiet roads of Tirion, he couldn’t help but notice the slight rustle of leaves as the wind tussled with them. He marveled at the limestone sidewalk that seemed to be painted silver with the light of Telperion. He spotted a few stubborn weeds growing in-between the paved sidewalk.

Carnistir never cared much for the poetic beauty in everything around him. He had left that to Makalaure. He much preferred to wield a needle to weave colorful threads into a scenery. His grandmother’s art had appealed the most to him and his father had been immensely proud. Feanor admired every single one of his creations and would stand looking at them for hours.

However, these days Carnistir found himself humming a familiar jolly tune, Makalaure had almost tripped when he found his younger brother mindlessly humming a love song. Carnistir found joy in helping his mother with twins, easing Maitimo’s duties. On random occasions, he would catch himself admiring the light of trees, and the chirping of the birds, Huan seemed to get extra pets from him. He even found himself laughing at the Ambarussar’s antics.

All this he had woven in a tapestry. It felt as if the world that felt like an annoyance was suddenly livelier. Something had breathed life into everything around him. The realization made the book in his coat feel so much heavier.

He had been frowning at the same fabric for the past hour. The vendor who was earlier glad that the prince had come to his shop was now exasperated. “My lord, my prince…” Carnistir ignored his whining with immaculate talent.

Had it been a normal piece he would not have cared that much but this was supposed to be a present for his father. His father, who never celebrated his begetting for the longest time. Carnistir knew it was the lingering grief of Miriel’s loss that still saddened his father.

“I’ll take this one.” Carnistir flinched at the sudden voice right next to him. He had not heard anyone approaching. Even the shopkeeper seemed stunned at the unexpected interruption.

The next moment the shopkeeper recovered and with a brilliant smile turned to the new customer. Carnistir was indignant at the interruption. He had yet to ask if the fabric was dyed with the specific dye he preferred.

Had this stranger made no sense? How could he just look at a piece of fabric from that far away and buy it? One needs to feel the cloth, inspect the dye, and look at the consistency of the threadwork in the least.

This was atrocious. Ready to educate the fool who was still standing quite a distance away Carnistir turned. “Excuse me, but ho—” and the time stopped to exist.

Out of all the children of Feanor, Carnistir was the least impulsive. He had always planned and weighed his options. Yet, one look at you, who he was about to give an earful, he felt the world turn upside down.

It was one moment that made him swoon, yearn, and forget whatever he had been doing before this. The stranger with hair of Laurelin’s color and eyes of the color of a lake on a bright day looked back at him equally surprised.

Carnistir, the harshest and quickest to anger out of all his brothers, fell in love at first sight. Almost quicker than the red that instantly colored his face.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion male reader #caranthir #carnistir #feanorians #sons of feanor #tolkein #tolkien elves #noldor elves #noldor #male reader #caranthir x male reader #silmarillion x reader #romance #middle earth #love at first sight #fluff #crack fic

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sweetearthandnorthernsky · 1 year ago

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🖊 + Morinel!!

Morinel !!! my beloved <3 i could probably yell about her for hours if i tried lol.

firstly, more than half the situations she ends up getting into are just canon silm and i refuse to be held responsible for those.

she is very much as an insane risk taker as the rest of her family (including ‘attempted to fight like 7 balrogs at once’ and ‘soloing all the goddamn trolls in caras gelebren despite not being a tank’ and ‘sure let’s throw a coup on our cousin for funsies’ and on the half-cousin side: ‘killing a wolf bare handed’ ‘soloing morgoth’ etc etc)

she just doesn’t come across that way because she makes all her plans sound super logical, when in fact they are not necessarily so.

(something something ‘x taught me to think my decisions through so if i decide to do something literally super risky it’s fine i thought it through first’)

also her rune keeping is very. hm. there’s a particular sort of ✨vibe✨ that’s a little bit different from my other rks. in part i think it’s from learning from the inspo for the class and partly *gestures* whatever the hell fëanor had going on that he passed onto his kids that caranthir then passed onto her.

morinel also actually made me develop so many hcs on runekeeping for someone who’s main isn’t even a runekeeper that it’s kinda funny.

and a bonus meta fact!

morinel is hands down one of the hardest ocs i have to write because she changes so much over her storyline.

like. pre nirnaeth morinel is vastly different (in thinking/attitude) from war of wrath morinel who is different from 2nd age morinel who’s different from war-of-elves-&-sauron morinel who’s different from war/of-the-last-alliance morinel. and the hard thing is keeping her consistent character-wise while also allowing those changes to happen.

(for example the transition from war of wrath > second age (or early second age anyway) she’s figuring out who she is as a person ™ and she’s a lot less… hm. sure of herself than she is in the later 2nd age.)

#ask game reply tag #morinel #ty nonny lol!

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eunoiaastralwings · 2 years ago

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How Ardently

-ˋˏ ༻❁ characters erestor x lúthriel (my oc), maedhros, maglor, celegorm, @calistefinwe (@aeonianarchives 's oc), caranthir, curufin, ambarussa, nerdanel

-ˋˏ ༻❁ fandom tolkien- the silmarillion

-ˋˏ ༻❁ summary Lú learns an interesting and shocking connection between her lover and best friend requested by my wonderful friend @aeonianarchives

-ˋˏ ༻❁ a/n for content everyone this is based of a roleplay myself and Kaiden is doing - Erestor is Lú's canon love interest, whom we are also basing off as Cara's child - and well you know Dior, Lú's twin, could have possibly killed Cara too (he did in the rp au) and Faeron (who happens to be Cara's twins and one of Lú's best friends whom she lost connection after the ruin of Doriath but found again after Rivendell) had killed Dior too after well witnessing Cara's death - Fae didn't swear the oath btw :) ABSOLUTE CRACK

“It’ll be alright, meleth. . .” Erestor tightened his hold on Lúthriel’s hand – which made her look at him unsurely, but she gave him the most reassuring smile she could muster at the moment. Her nerves were getting the best of her – and she let out a shaking breath.

“Do you really think they’ll approve of me? – After everything my family and your family. . .-”

Lúthriel sighed not knowing how to even begin explaining their situation – it was a type of forbidden love. Erestor belonged to the Nolder family that caused ruin to her home and Lúthriel belonged to the Sindar family were their enemy.

“It was a long time ago.”

Erestor reassured her.

“Besides my uncles had taken in Lord Elrond and King Elros in their days – they raised and protected them. Everything will be fine, dîs nin. . .” (my bride).

He whispered – and tucked a lose strand of her dark hair behind her ear and looking into her green and blue eyes with so much reassurance Lúthriel felt like she was floating.

Lúthriel finally gave him a stern nod – holding her chin high to which Erestor smiled and finally knocked on the door to the banquet hall.

Lúthriel nervously straitened her mother’s hair pin she wore and her dress when the doorknob turned.

To her surprise a tall and freckled woman with bright auburn hair had opened the door. She smiled sweetly at them.

“There you are, come in. They are waiting for you.”

She said opening the door wide for them to enter – Lúthriel didn’t even need to look up but she could already sense many pairs of eyes on her.

“Oh, you have got to be joking me!”

Lúthriel looked up to see one of the silver-haired Feanorians glaring down at her with hatred. The silver eyes of Celegorm bore into her, but Lúthriel didn’t dare, she only glared back at him. She wanted to say something, but she bit down her tongue – Erestor caressed her knuckles hoping to calm her down.

“Tyelko, that’s enough!”

Nerdanel snapped – the fondness in her voice had suddenly disappeared.

Her gazed then shifted to his brother – she nervously avoided eye contact with Erestor’s father, but she smiled to the ellon who stood beside him, Faeron. They put their different aside and saved their friendship through understanding.

Lúthriel felt like she would have done the same thing – so she chose to forgive him and apologized to Faeron on behalf of Dior.

But for some strange reason today – Faeron had her arms crossed and somewhat glaring at her, which only made her frown at him. She silently gave him a questioning look and Faeron raised his sharp eyebrow as her.

Lúthriel was about to speak – but her betrothed beat her to it.

“Well – you have met my grandmother, Nerdanel.”

Erestor said and she smiled warmly at holding nothing by approval and fondness in her eyes for the Sindarin princess, which made her feel a little more at ease.

“And, you know my uncles. . .”

He said very awkwardly – gesturing to Nerdanel’s sons one by one.

“Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm. . . – then there’s Curufin and the Ambarussa. . .”

Lúthriel had been too busy giving Celegorm murderous glares to notice Erestor had introduced Faeron as his uncle. Celegorm had a long line of history with her family – including kidnapping and lusting after beloved mother to a point her mother was almost shuddered in fear at the mention of his name.

She did not feel one bit of remorse when Dior had beheaded – her only pain was seeing Dior had to be one to do it. Seeing her own twin do the kill certainly took a toll on her.

Erestor slowly stood in front of her eye line and gently gestured her to Caranthir.

“My birth father, Caranthir – Morifinwë.”

Lúthriel’s sharp glares suddenly disappeared and she found herself gulping under his dark judgemental gaze. He really wasn’t called ‘Dark Finwë’ for nothing. She wanted to say something but she couldn’t – for the first time in her life she found herself unable to take a stand. This was the father of the ellon she loved, who also happens to be killed by her own twin.

Just when Lúthriel believed it could not get any of dramatic, Erestor finally gestured to the last Feanorian; Faeron or Calistefinwë – whim she thought she knew well enough as one of her best friends now.

“And finally, you know well enough here – Calistefinwë, my adopted father. He raised me.”

Erestor smiled softly at Lúthriel, knowing they were friends – but to his utter surprise Lúthriel looked too shocked, like his adopted father had grown two heads.

“What?!”

She suddenly shrieked – letting go off Erestor’s arm as she broke all proper etiquettes belonging to proper princess, which made Nerdanel throw her head back and laugh.

“I could ask you the same think, Lú! What the actual fuck?!”

Faeron shouted at her.

“You’re asking me that!”

She flared back – the sudden exchange making both Erestor and Caranthir shift unfortunately. Caranthir didn’t know where he stood in all this – it was his first time meeting his son whom he last saw as a toddler and now he was suddenly betrothed to, not only the twin sister of his killer, but she also happened to be a friend of his own twin?

“YES! I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BROTHER TO YOU AND THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT ME FOR STEALING YOUR NIECE’S KIDS?!”

Faeron shot back.

“Aren’t we the one who took Elrond and Elros?”

Maglor suddenly questioned to Maedhros.

“I think he means after the War of Wrath.”

Maedhros replied – pinching the bridge of nose as their voices raised.

“I NEVER KNEW YOU WERE HIS ADOPTED FATHER, FAE! YOU NEVER TOLD ME!”

Nerdanel looked at them with curious eyes – this was certainly drama at its finest. She did not involve herself, unless another one of her sons chose to intervene.

“Well, this is quite dramatic!”

Celegorm stated – sitting back to enjoy how would this turn out for Lúthien’s daughter.

“Hope it ends terribly for her!”

He said and suddenly getting sharp glares from his non-occupied siblings, bar Curufin who looked like he rather wanted to leave this whole ordeal and meet up with his own son, Celebrimbor. But Celebrimbor purposely chose not to be here – as he still was not ready to come face-to-face with his father, but promised to his first cousin Erestor and Lúthriel in private afterwards.

“So, you’re telling me, if you had known he was my son you wouldn’t have fallen for him?”

Lúthriel let out something in between scoff and a laugh – Erestor looked at her concerned, perhaps a little scared too and Caranthir watched the emotions on Erestor’s face, realizing his features were an awful lot like his own, only missing his ruddy skin – Erestor had his mother’s slightly tanned skin.

“Fae, you know as much as I do how love works – it has no boundaries. I fell in love with him, even knowing he was a Feanorian, what makes you think I wouldn’t have fallen for him when knowing he was your son too!”

Lúthriel told him with a stern voice, making Nerdanel smirk – the more she saw this Sindarin elleth the more she approved her. Lúthriel reminded of herself, stubborn and won’t back down easily – and for Feanorian someone like that simply needed.

“Now, all I am asking you is for your blessing for your son and I, is that so hard?”

Lúthriel stated dramatically.

The Ambarussa came to sit beside their mother.

“How did see not know Erestor was adopted by her friend?”

Armod asked and Nerdanel chuckled.

“This is you brother Telpërinisquar we are talking about! When has he made it easy to understand and perhaps it never came up until now.”

Nerdanel replied with a shrug – fondly using the name she has given Faeron.

“Yes, it is hard! It’s you, you of all people with my son. MY SON.”

Caranthir then tried to say something – however it went in one ear and out the other.

“He’s actually my son, you know? Eve though you raised him. . .”

But Faeron paid no heed to his twin and shouted.

“LÚ YOU’RE CRAZY!”

“I don’t think we should keep talking about this. . .”

Erestor tried to say as he looked around the room with a sigh – certainly this wasn’t how he hoped it would go. His uncle Maedhros and Maglor looked like the were used to something like this – but it not mean they enjoyed it.

“Oh please, Fae! How am I crazy for falling in love? It is not like I fell in love with an orc! Besides! You always encouraged to try and court and fall in love!”

That middle sentence made Erestor raise an eyebrow at Lúthriel.

“Seriously?”

He questioned.

“Shh! Not now!”

She snapped at him.

“He is an orc when it comes to you and I never said my own son you missed the assignment!”

Faeron snapped suddenly – making Erestor look at him unbelievably. Both Erestor and Caranthir let out an offended scoff at the same – Caranthir somewhat smilrd at his son noticing he had some of his habits even though he did not raise him.

“How? How did miss it? You were specific Fae! You said I should date anyone! Anyone! Be it maiar, ellon or elleth! Erestor is an ellon!”

Lúthriel shot back.

“I thought you would know my son wouldn’t be part of ANYONE!”

Faeron shouted.

Every one in the room looked at one another awkwardly – this clearly wasn’t ending any time soon. However, Nerdanel still watched on making no move to end this – she clearly knew what was happening and perhaps that’s why no one chose to move.

“Excuse me! You make it sound like I was some sort of witch that wrongfully seduced your son!”

Lúthriel was not going to back down out of this – and Erestor regretted on telling her beforehand. He thought both of them would have been excited to know.

“Knowing your part maia.”

Faeron muttered.

“AND YOU'RE MARRIED TWO MAIAR - NEED I REMIND YOU ?!”

“He’s my son, his actual father is my twin here– what would he think of you worth his son!”

Faeron snapped – making Caranthir turn red as he was unexpectedly mentioned.”

“Can’t you are friends with the twin of my killer.”

Caranthir muttered to Faeron with small glare.

“She is friends with the killer of her own twin”

Faeron muttered back.

“Doesn’t make it any better”

Caranthir replied to his twin.

“To be honest it happened before your death I was pissy for a while and then friends again”

Faeron explain easily.

“Loving this family drama we have going on here!”

Celegorm decided to comment.

“Oh shut up, you are cause most of it most of the time!”

Faeron snapped at him.

“Are we done here? Can we get the blessings we came here for?”

Lúthriel spoke again – raising her eyebrow.

“No you are not getting any blessings from me!”

Faeron erupted.

“Ada. . .” (dad).

Erestor tried to intervene then – too shocked by Faeron’s behavior. He really wanted to pull the both them into another room and demand to stop this – but knowing his own stubborn lover and an even more stubborn father it wouldn’t be that simple.

His eyes twitched as he felt a headache coming on.

“How the hell not?”

Lúthriel suddenly cursed – surprising everyone in the room.

Armas chuckled.

“Nolder or not, I actually like her!”

He said – making faeron snapped his eyes at him.

“Don’t encourage her. And you know exactly why, Lú!”

He spoke to the both of them at the same time.

“Do you know how much trouble you have caused me?!”

He asked her.

“Yes you! - I do that on purpose! Not with Erestor!”

She smirked and leaned on Erestor again – hugging his arm and Erestor sighed in exhaustion.

“You are nothing but trouble did Ranya curse me to deal with you! I swear he may of done!”

Faeron questioned – referring to one of the Mandos’ horsemen; the youngest brother of his beloved.

“Maybe, so you going to give us your blessing now?”

The elleth smirked.

“If you are a curse, I will exercise you with exorcism!”

“I am no curse, Fae! JUST GIVE US YOUR BLESSING!! WE DONT HAVE ALL DAY”

Lúthriel exclaimed, throwing her hands.

“Then no. No blessing for you. You rush me to much and will be even more of a pain in the ass if i give it to you”

Faeron said – brushing her off.

“So no blessing?”

Lúthriel grumbled under her breath – Erester sighed out loud again and looking away to the side. He really regretted not telling either of them.

He debated whoever or not just leave them be – but they had promised to never walk put on each other. Erestor would break her heart if you would do such a thing.

“Yes none! No blessing and no other one of his fathers to get it from.”

“BUT IT IS WRONG TO GET MARRIED WITHOUT BLESSINGS!”

Lúthriel tried to explain – reaching to a point she was almost desperate and this would be the one time she would be doing for Erestor’s sake.

“I am saving my son from a life with maiar and a pain in the ass won't shut up. Half elf who always believes she is right and doesn't take a no as an answer, and is quite frankly reckless and will never listen, unless, it is to help with something she asked for help with and it is not saying something going against.”

Lúthriel let out something in between a scoff and a laugh as she said so – while his words somewhat stung, there was nothing he could or anyone could throw at her that would make her leave Erestor. Unless it was Erestor himself.

“Telpërinisquar!”

Now Nerdanel chose to step in – unsure what exactly her so was planning– calling him sternly by the name chosen by her.

But Faeron only send her a gaze – silently asking his beautiful mother wait, though he knew the impatience was starting to get the better of her.

“Fine! So be it! We do not need your blessing! We shall do this ourselves Fae! I will show I can make an excellent lover and wife to your son – I WILL SHOW YOU!”

Lúthriel chose to say and took Erestor’s hand again – she almost sighed out in relief as he held her tightly.

Even Erestor seemed to shocked by Faeron’s response and he hoped to have his birth father’s approval, but Caranthir only stood there looking with a frown on his eyes as if he was deep in thought.

“i was hoping you would say that, I would hate if my son chooses a push over, like i know you have been so many times before, but step out of line and you are ending up like your brother!”

Faeron finally said and delivered with a massive grin.

Lúthriel gaped at him for second her eyes widening – she decided to have him a murderous gaze and whacked Faeron’s shoulder.

“You little-”

She screamed – but Erestor immediately grabbed her by her waist and pulled her back, holding her back from attacking his father.

“Really?! You had be scared, Ada!”

Faeron rolled his eyes and muttered about taking the blessing away – and Lúthriel only retorted back with:

“You can’t take away a gift!”

“I can and I will – besides you should have known I would do this after all that training I gave you back in Doriath.”

But Lúthriel only muttered something incoherent under her breath and crossed her arms.

“Well – if that is all let me get the dinner out and so we can finally eat!”

Nerdanel announced going into the kitchen – Maglor willingly followed.

Lúthriel was about to as well – but not before whispering to Faeron and Erestor.

“Can I poison Celery’s food?”

Which Caranthi happened to overhear and he raised and eyebrow. Before Faeron would answer, the eldest twin answered first.

“Any other time, I probably would have said yes – but we promised our mother not to upset her this evening.”

Lúthriel sighed with a fine and walked herself over to the kitchen.

The food was sound with the help of Lúthriel and Nerdanel smiled at her gratefully. As they sat to eat – Nerdanel stirred away from hurtful topics with a stern voice and sharp glare to any one of her sons and the entire time Erestor held Lúthriel’s hand underneath the table. . . Never letting go.

Taglist form

oc taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @aeonianarchives @mismaeve @fizzyxcustard @spidergirla5

#Lúthriel #lúthriel tinuviel #fae and lú shenanigans #the silmarillion #the silm #the silm oc #silmarillion oc #silmarillion #silmarillion rp au #eunoiawrites #answered #tolkien elves #SILM CRACK #chaos family crack #fun writing #erestor #Lúthriel x Erestor #Erestor x Lúthriel

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