#caranthir/caranthir's wife

[grey-gazania-fic]

Five Letters Caranthir Sent His Wife (And One Letter He Didn't)

When Fëanor is exiled to Formenos, his seven sons accompany him, but Caranthir's wife stays behind in Tirion. A selection of their correspondence. Rated PG.

1

My dear Parmë,

I have no idea how long it will take for this to reach you; there’s not much in the way of a postal service up here, so I’ve entrusted my letter to Herenyo, who’s headed back to Tirion now that he’s seen his sister safely settled here.

We’ve arrived, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. The place hasn’t changed much since we were last here. Remember standing on the banks of the Híri and looking up at that ring of mountains -- the bright snow on the peaks, and the way the light reflected off the water and brought out all the bands of color in the stone? It’s still as beautiful now as it was then, though I’m having a harder time appreciating it when I know I’ll be stuck here for twelve years, instead of just visiting for a few weeks.

I miss you already.

Atto made all his preliminary construction plans on our journey here, and he’s already started the work. He intends to build into the mountains as well as settle on the plain -- a precaution for the winter, I suppose, or maybe he just wants a place he can fortify. I admit I haven’t asked, because he’s still in a filthy temper about the Valar’s judgment and I’d rather not get my head bitten off. In front of the others he puts on a cast-iron show of leadership, but when it’s just the family, he’s worse than a snapping turtle. Haru is the only one who can calm him.

Curvo is already running himself ragged, trying to do everything Atto asks and trying to keep Nyellë from exerting herself now that she’s expecting. 

I've taken over all the cooking, mostly because I can and it beats babysitting or making nails and door hinges.  But I keep thinking how you've probably gone back to living on tomato & cheese sandwiches and raw mushrooms. (I still don't understand why you eat those. Ugh.)  Promise you'll eat some real food at least occasionally? Meet up with Amarië for lunch or something.

I miss you, but you'd hate it here.  It's all noise and shouting and people everywhere, hardly any quiet.  I don't remember things being so loud even when I lived at home, but I guess there were fewer of us then.  And things are strange – Tyelkormo is out hunting most of the time, as usual, and Curvo fusses over Nyellë while she tries not to snap at him, but now Haru tries to placate Atar, and Maitimo tends to the twins and is quietly miserable.  Not that he's confessed it to anyone, but it's plain enough, at least to me.  

How is Tirion holding up with so many people gone? Are things calmer at all?

I can’t sleep through the night anymore, not without you beside me. I know why you stayed behind, and I understand, I really do, but I already miss you so much it aches.

All my love,

Carnistir

2

My dearest, beloved Parmë,

I’m sorely tempted to toss Curvo in the river, and you know, I think Nyellë might applaud me if I did. He’s smothering her with all his fussing, which is clearly driving her mad. I had no idea the two of them could argue so fiercely. So now we have not one, but three people in a constant state of bad temper. Family dinners are approaching open warfare.

I’m not blameless myself; I’ll be the first to admit it. I’d forgotten how hard it is to live with so many people under one roof. It was so much better at home with you, just the two of us. You’ve always been my even keel, my oasis, the cool water to quench my hot temper. It’s difficult being here without you. It feels like we’re all taking after Atto, snapping and snarling at each other. Not even Maitimo can keep the peace these days, and he was always the one who smoothed things over among us.

I think he misses Fingon desperately, even if he won’t admit it. The two of them argued before we left, and they must have exchanged some truly bitter words, because Maitimo’s heart feels like it’s surrounded with nettles now. I’ve tried talking to him – I thought maybe I could help draw out whatever’s poisoning him inside – but my efforts have gone nowhere. He’s locked part of himself away, like he doesn’t want to feel his own emotions. But the pain is bleeding out of him, even if I’m the only one who can see it.

I miss the days when we were happy. I miss my mother. Most of all, I miss you.

Your cousin is here, did you know? Alassinkë, I mean, and her ridiculous husband. They’ve been trying to curry favor with Atto through me, but I’m having none of it. Why should I give them the time of day, when they never treated you with the respect you deserve? I know that once we married, Alassinkë only ever saw her relationship with you as a means to an end. I won’t reward that kind of loveless conniving.

I was glad to hear that you’ve been spending time with Amarië. Please, offer her my congratulations on a successful first date with Findaráto. He’s been pining over her for years, but I thought he would never work up the nerve to ask her out. And while you know I’ve never been particularly close with him, I will say that he’s always been the least objectionable of Arafinwë’s brats. Amarië could do a lot worse.

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I could say it a thousand times, and it still wouldn’t be enough. I feel like I left a piece of myself behind in Tirion with you. Please, try to come for a visit soon, even if it’s only a few days. I think Canyanis would give you the time off if you asked. She adores you, and you’re one of her best archivists. Try, please. I would give anything to see you, even for a little while.

All my love,

Carnistir

3

Parmë, my Parmë, light of my life and dearest in the world to me,

I know I said this before you left, but I need to say it again: I am so, so sorry for how Atto treated you while you were here. I knew he was angry that you stayed behind in Tirion instead of coming here with me, but I never thought he would have such harsh words for you. I’ve tried to convince him that he owes you an apology, but he won’t listen to anything I say. He sees the fact that you stayed behind as a betrayal, just like he sees Ammë staying behind as a betrayal. He’s even accused me of being “blinded by my love for you.”

I told him that was nonsense, and that when we married we promised to love and cherish each other, not to always agree with each other. I’d be nothing but a petty tyrant if I’d tried to wheedle you into coming to Formenos with us, and I never could’ve done that to you, anyway. You love Tirion. You love the archive. You love your work, and your friends, and the garden that you’ve tended to for so long. I know you’d be miserable here, away from all of that, and I can never bear to see you unhappy.

I would’ve stayed with you if I could, but Atto never would have forgiven me. Plus that would’ve been tantamount to declaring allegiance to Nolofinwë, which is something you know I’ll never do. If he hadn’t listened to Melkor’s lies and tried to usurp my father’s place, none of us would be in this mess.

At any rate, Atto and I aren’t speaking now, because of what he said about you. Maitimo hasn’t even tried to get us to reconcile, which tells you all you need to know about how well he’s doing. Curvo’s taken sides, of course, so now he’s not speaking to me either. Tyelko’s been smart enough not to offer an opinion, and I think the twins are too young to really care. Makalaurë hasn’t said anything to Atto’s face about it, but in private he told me that Atto was out of line and that he doesn’t blame me for being angry. He said if Atto ever spoke to Melindil like that, he’d be furious, too.

I don’t know what Melindil and Nyellë think, but if I were them, I’d be nervous. You were always Atto’s favorite daughter-in-law, and if he’ll talk to you like that, they must realize he’ll do the same to them if they misstep. Though they came with us, so Atto is seeing them in a better light than he sees you. Loyalty has become very important to him, but I’m concerned by how strictly he seems to be defining it. I think if Haru had stayed behind to continue ruling in Tirion, Atto would’ve fallen apart completely.

Again, I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t my fault, but you deserved better. If you don’t want to come back, I’ll understand, and I won’t fault you for it.

I cherish you, Parmë. More than the stars in the sky, more than the light of the Trees, more than all the gems in the earth.

All my love,

Carnistir

4

My dearest, darling Parmë, who has the cleverest hands,

I was a bit surprised when your package came, but oh, melissë, you outdid yourself. It's beautiful! And so warm – I swear it's the warmest blanket in the fortress. You must have been working on this quilt for months. The embroidery alone must have taken you weeks. Truly, it’s a work of art. I’ve never seen a quilt so fine, or so unique. Every time I look at it, I feel like you’re here with me, your arms wrapped around me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

In other news, Nyellë's had the baby. It's a boy. His name is Curufinwë Tyelperinquar. Typical. I’ve always thought this family already had more Curufinwës than it needed, but it seems Curvo disagrees.

There's not much else to say about him; he's little and bald and red, and he cries a lot. He looks to take after Curvo, at least in his appearance. Atto is thrilled, but Nyellë wants to try to arrange a visit with Ammë, so I'm not sure how long the good mood will last. Nyellë’s in the right, though. Ammë deserves to meet her first grandchild.

Little Tyelpo’s birth has cheered Maitimo up, too, which I’m grateful for. He’s clearly enjoying being an uncle, not to mention having a baby in the house again. I always thought he would make a good father. He loves children more than anyone I’ve ever met, and certainly more than I do. He’s having a grand time teaching Pityo and Telvo how to properly handle an infant, though so far they’ve refused his diaper-changing lessons.

Nyellë and Curvo are both exhausted and clearly appreciate the help. Even I’ve been charmed by the little dumpling, though living in a house with a baby is a new one for me, as you know. By the time Curvo and the twins came along, I was already settled in Tirion with you.

I do wish he didn’t cry so much, but when I made the mistake of saying that to Maitimo, Maitimo told me that I cried ten times as often and ten times as loudly when I was a baby. If he’s telling the truth – and let’s face it, I have no reason to doubt him – I was the unhappiest infant in all of Aman.

Will you come to see your nephew? I think Atto is in a good enough mood that he won’t snap at you again, and as always, I’d love to see you. I know you know nothing about babies, being an only child, but Maitimo and I would teach you, and I think Nyellë would like to see you, too. I know she said she’d like to thank you in person for the baby clothes you sent last month. They’re a little big – Tyelpo came a few weeks early, and he’s small – but he’ll grow into them. That’s one thing I do remember about babies; they grow faster than you’d think.

I’ve included some chrysanthemum seeds with this letter, for you to try in the garden back home. They grow wild up here, and these are from a plant with blooms that were a lovely shade of peach that I haven’t seen before. I hope they grow, and that they make you think of me.

All my love,

Carnistir

5

My darling, dearest, precious Parmë,

It was so, so good to see you. It’s amazing how much more peaceful the place is since little Tyelpo arrived, though I’ll be the first to say that that’s an awful lot of weight to put on a two-year-old’s shoulders. But if it means you can come and go without trouble, then I’ll take it. Selfish of me, I know, but I’ve never claimed not to be selfish. Thank Canyanis for me, will you, for giving you two entire weeks?

I hope there’s no trouble in Tirion over the fact that you’ve been coming to Formenos. I worry that some people there might view you with suspicion, or think you’re spying for Atto somehow. I know things are tense both here and there, and I’m glad that you’re doing your best to navigate both simultaneously. Selfish of me again, maybe; mostly I’m just happy I’ve been able to see you.

Tyelpo’s taken to dragging the blanket you made for him around with him everywhere, to the point that he cried when Nyellë took it away so that she could wash it. It’s displaced the bunny Ammë sent as his favorite thing.

I planted the rose seedlings you brought with you along the wall outside my bedroom window, so that I’ll be able to see them when they grow. They’ll make the place feel a little more homey. Not that it’s ever going to be home, for all that we’ve already been here three years and are due to stay another nine. Home isn’t here. Home is with you.

Tell me, has Findaráto asked Amarië to marry him yet, or is he still dragging his feet? He’s lucky she loves him so much, or someone else probably would have stolen her away by now.

I know, I know. I shouldn’t criticize. I proposed to you with no planning and no rings. But I’d known for years by then that you were the only person I would ever want to marry. I was just waiting until I’d turned fifty. Findaráto is well past fifty. He needs to get a move on things, or he’ll be like Maitimo, unmarried forever.

Of course, don’t tell him I said any of this. I doubt he has any desire to take relationship advice from me, considering how poorly we’ve always gotten along. His loss, though. I think I have the happiest marriage in the entire family.

Write me back quickly. I know I just saw you, but I already miss you.

All my love,

Carnistir

+1

Parmë, my love, my life,

It feels unfair, having to stay here for so long. It was Melkor’s lies that drove Atto to do what he did, and the Valar haven’t even managed to find Melkor. But they banished Atto anyway, even though they haven’t managed to fix their own mistake. Maybe Atto’s right, and we would be better off in Endorë rather than caged here. I don’t know. I just think a fresh start sounds tempting.

Would you come with me, if we were to really leave? I’m afraid to ask. I’m afraid the answer would be no, and then we’d truly be sundered. Formenos is two days’ ride from Tirion. Endorë is an entire ocean away. But I know you don’t feel hemmed in here the way I do. You’re happy in Aman. You have your work, your friends, your family. I see the way you light up when you talk about the archive. I see how much joy your craft brings you.

If I’m honest, I’m not just afraid to ask; I think I’d actually hate myself if I ever did ask. I could never demand that you make that choice.

I’m afraid to ask the other question, too. If Atto did decide to lead us east over the sea, and you didn’t want to join him, would I stay with you? Or would I go with Atto? I don’t know the answer to that question, and that terrifies me. I love my father, but I also love you. I think having to make that choice would tear me in two.

Atto has been commanded to appear before Manwë at the festival, though the terms of his banishment haven’t been lifted. Haru has refused to go with him, and Atto has told the rest of us to stay behind as well. But I’m worried. Maybe it’s nothing, but I just have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is about to go wrong, that there’s some great malice at work that we can’t see. I’ve been dreaming of darkness rolling across Aman and choking the light.

I’m afraid. I wish  

Carnistir set down his quill, screwed up his parchment, and fed it to the flames.

[essenceofarda]

Haleth and Caranthir's wife 👀

[youareunbearable]

Tonight is a great night to think fondly on Haleth and Caranthir. I think they would make such a funny couple.

Imagine??? The Big Tall Broody Scowling Kinslayer Who Is Also The One Reason The Economy Is Functioning At All Between The Different Races/Elvish Factions Who Probably Is Dying To Tell King Thingol/His Cousins To Fuck Off At Any Given Moment and hes looming over this short human lady??

This short human lady that Can, Will, and Already Has told him to pull the stick out of his ass and bullies him into doing normal townsfolk chores??? Lord Carathir, Master Economist and a Weaver with the skill to rival his grandmother, sitting there and darning socks cause his tiny mortal wife told him too. His reward will be a kiss on the cheek but she'll scold him while he does it because he said a mean thing about his Cousin Finrod in his last letter to her while he KNEW Finrod was visiting her.

Only three things in the world keep Caranthir in check: His Eldest Brother, The Lord Himring, The Current Head of the Feanorian Faction of Noldor, and Former High King; the idea that if he didn't complete his brothers' tax paperwork and run the Trade Routes then the Nolofinweans and Arafinweans would become more economincally important And We Cant Have That; and his 4'11 wife he met bloodied and wrathful on a battlefield screaming at an orc over the corpse of her brother-- it was love at first sight

[whiteladyofithilien]

I think my main reason for shipping Caranthir and Haleth is because we need at least one inter-race Tolkien couple where the human is a woman. Like all three canon human-elven pairings it's always the fabulous fae elven beauty and the heroic dude and I'm like... What about a mighty elf-lord and his badass human lady? Hmm? I need this to be a thing and Haleth/Caranthir is the only ship I know of that has that dynamic going for it plus of the middle three sons of Feanor Caranthir is the only one NOT part of the attacks on Luthien... therefore he's the best of those 3

[irithyllians]

môrglienna, lómënalir, haleth.

tolkien left all those canon, unnamed fëanorian wives out in the open, of course I had to give them faces and names.

[sauroff]

✨ Feanorian's Wives ✨

I hate calling them that, but sadly I don't have the knowledge or patience to give them a name.

From left to right (or at least I hope so, because formating always gets messed up when posting from phone) :

- Tyelpë's Mother: Teleri, carpenter (more specifically, woodcarver). Killed during the first kinslaying, protecting her people. Re embodied, and waiting for her son to come back.

Not as soft as she looks. If Curufin was ever allowed to be re embodied, she would send him back to Mandos with her own hands.

- Maglor's wife: Vanya, poetess. Stayed in Valinor (even in a better context, she wouldn't have left) and remade her life. She isn't waiting for Maglor, but if he was ever allowed to come back, she would welcome him into her life again, as long as he could adapt to it. Despite being a vanya, she isn't very fond of the Valar and their rules, and her lifestyle might not fit with what other vanyar consider proper.

- Caranthir's wife: Noldo, glass artist. Went to ME with Caranthir. She learned khuzdul pretty fast, and acted as a diplomat with the dwarves (but what she actually liked was learning from them and their craftsmanship). She really liked Thargelion, and thought of it as her home.

Died during the Dagor Bragollach. Still in Mandos.

[polutrope]

And Love Grew: Chapter 4

Rating: T | Violence, Character Death Words: 5.3k (Chapter), 17k (WiP) Relationships: Elrond & Elros & Maglor, Caranthir's Wife & Maglor Characters: Maglor, Elrond, Elros, Caranthir's Wife, Original Characters Genre: Tragedy

As a host of survivors makes the journey from Sirion to Amon Ereb under Maglor’s leadership, old bonds unravel and loyalties crumble. But from the scraps and ruins, new and unlikely bonds take shape. A story of perseverance through suffering.

Chapter 4: The host pauses for rest on the eaves of Taur-im-Duinath. Dornil learns some disturbing truths about Maglor. Gwereth does her best to care for Elros and Elrond while struggling against her own grief and anger.

On AO3

Chapter excerpt:

Taur-im-Duinath was a strange forest. So dense with vegetation, pressing out to its very edges, as to seem untouched by any creature that fed upon things that grow. Indeed, besides small stream-dwellers and the occasional bird flitting in and out of the crowns of ancient trees, they had seen no animals. Strangest was that much of what lived here was unknown elsewhere in Beleriand. The forest, vast and deep and verdant, was a world unto its own. Silent, some called it, and by day it lay quiet indeed, its thick growth swallowing the chatter, the whinnying of horses, the scrape of the whetstone, the fall of water from wrung textile. The sounds, too, of children laughing. Glancing up from her work, Dornil noticed the berry-gatherers’ baskets had been forgotten in favour of a game of hiding and chasing through the understory. Dornil’s eyes rose to the darkening underbelly of the clouds. Dusk was coming on. At night, Taur-im-Duinath was not silent. At night, the forest threw back echoes of the day’s noises in strained, shrill tones. Noises that swirled and churned in the mind long after they had died, turning, turning until out of the confusion of sounds voices rose. Voices speaking, shouting, singing.

[tethysresort]

Swallows at Dusk and Dawn

Summary: It is winter at the castle by the lake. The survivors of the siege of the stockade recover, Haleth makes friends, and Caranthir begins courting a certain elvish trader. As winter deepens, Haleth makes choices and the People of Haleth arise.

A TRSB 2024 story! Check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58921111/chapters/150191104

And the adorable complete art is HERE by stayindraw! (Thank you so much for letting me write for your art, I had a marvelous time!)

Art rating: G

Fic rating: T (for the themes of grief and memories of the dead, not graphic, no major AO3 warnings apply)

Relationships: Haleth and Caranthir, Caranthir and Caranthir's Wife, Haleth and Caranthir's Wife

Characters: Haleth, Caranthir, Caranthir's Wife (eventually his wife), Haldan, a whole group of OCs

Word count: 10k words

@tolkienrsb, @stayindraw

[grey-gazania-fic]

Half Past Ten in the Rose Garden

Caranthir discovers that this romance thing is a lot harder than it looks. Rated G.

"I'll be home late," I tell my mother as I'm packing up for work. Swatting Tyelko's hands away, I add an extra helping of the dumplings I made yesterday to my lunch bag; Parmë loves them and I know she can't cook for beans. "I'm meeting a friend for dinner."

"Aw, don't take them all," he complains. "How much does your imaginary friend eat, anyway?"

I roll my eyes — that joke got old years ago — but otherwise ignore him. To think that he wonders why I've never introduced the two of them.

"Tyelko, don't pick on your brother," Ammë calls from her studio. "Carnistir, have a good time."

"I will," I say, popping my head in. She smiles and waves, and I set out, wincing when the door slams shut behind me. I keep forgetting that Atto fixed that sticky hinge, and Ammë hates slammed doors.

I like working afternoons better than evenings. I finish just in time for supper, so meeting up with Parmë is easy. The vendors are closed by then, but I bring some of whatever I've cooked lately, she brings bread and cheese or vegetables from her little garden, and between the two of us we have a nice meal. Today starts out no differently; Aicórë and I finish up the accounts for the law firm next door and I meet Parmë by the fountain. It's not until after we've eaten that things deviate from the usual pattern.

"It's so nice out," Parmë says, stretching her arms behind her. "Want to go walk in the garden for a bit?"

"Sure." The city gardens are gorgeous at this time of year, with the roses and lilies in full bloom, and they won't be crowded, not this late at night. I offer her my hand and pull her up, waiting while she slips her shoes back on, and then wrap my arm around her shoulders. The gardens aren't far at all, and we walk in silence as we bask in the beauty of the flowers. That's one of the things I like about Parmë; she doesn't feel the need to chatter all the time. Like me, she knows how to appreciate quiet.

There are plenty of little nooks with benches and ivy-covered trellises scattered throughout, and she pulls me over to sit on one, resting her head on my shoulder. "I don't feel like going home yet," she says with a little laugh. "It's too beautiful out tonight."

"Yeah.” I pause. Swallow. Take her hand in mine, matching our fingertips together and studying her delicate bones. I love her so much, it's sometimes hard to find words, or at least words that don't sound ridiculous. I'm no poet, and I want to sit here with you forever is so overdramatic as to be worthy of Makalaurë.

“Will you marry me?“ I blurt out.

Parmë blinks, mouth open, and her shock is like a pre-dawn plunge into the ocean. "Y-yes,” she stammers. “Yes, I would. I will.”

Then my arms are around her, our lips meeting in a tentative kiss. It's a little sloppy, but that maybe isn’t surprising, since I don't think either of us have much experience. I sure don't. But it's nice – her lips are soft and warm and she smells like vanilla and old parchment, sweet and familiar.

I pull away suddenly when I realize something. "Rings,“ I say, feeling like a fool. "I can’t believe I just proposed without rings.”

“Did…you even talk to your parents?” Parmë squeaks.

“Er…” I cough. “Um. No. I should probably do that as well.”

She laughs shakily. "I love you, Carnistir. Even when you don’t think things through.“

"I don’t think they’ll object,” I protest. “It’s not like there’s something wrong with you— No, I don’t mean it like that!” I groan and drop my head into my hands. Why did this have to be so difficult? “I mean you're—” Basically perfect in every way. No, I couldn’t say that. “You’re you. And I love you. So there’s nothing for any reasonable person to object to. My parents are reasonable people, right?”

“I don’t know,” Parmë says. “Seeing as I’ve never actually met them.”

“Oh, hell. I have to introduce you to my family. I have to introduce you to my brothers. I have to introduce you to Tyelko.” I groan again. Tyelkormo is an immature idiot about girls. Why Irissë tolerates him, I will never know.

Parmë pats my arm. “It’s– It’s okay. They’re your parents; I’m sure they want you to be happy.”

My heart gives a funny sort of lurch. Stunned and nervous and wrong-footed as Parmë is, not even having met my oddball family yet, and she's still trying to comfort me.

“I love you,” I say, a little softer. “Let me walk you home? Just– don’t say anything to Amarië. Not yet.”

“I’m not saying a word to anyone, Carnistir. Not till you’ve talked to your parents. I won't be fodder for anybody's gossip unless I absolutely have to be.” She presses her lips together and crosses her arms, taut like a bowstring. "I won't be the woman who got rejected by the royal family for not being good enough."

She's scared, I realize, scared of what being engaged to me might mean. Scared of what people will say. "That won't happen," I insist. "I'm going to marry you, and I don't care what anybody else says about it. Except you, obviously."

This is turning out to be about as romantic as filing taxes. I feel like such an idiot.

"Look," I say, holding her close once more. "Let me walk you home. I'll talk to my parents in the morning, and then tomorrow I'll tell you what they say." I kiss her hair and feel her relax a little in my arms. "It'll be okay. I promise."

"I hope so," she murmurs. "I do love you."

"I know." I've known for years; I've just been waiting until we're both of age to say anything about it. But it turns out this romance thing is a lot harder than it looks. "And I love you. But let's get you home, okay?"

continue reading on AO3

[essenceofarda]

Haleth, sparring with Caranthir

[grey-gazania]

💖 💛 (Caranthir)

unusual headcanon ask game

💖 - Romantic relationships or ships. 💛 - Familial relationships.

I'm going to do these both at once, because the answers tie into each other.

Of his brothers, Caranthir is closest to Maedhros and least close to Curufin. He was already married and living with his wife in Tirion by the time Curufin was born, and thus really only saw Curufin when he went to visit his parents; he wasn't a particularly involved older brother. It wasn't until Fëanor was banished to Formenos that the two of them began living under the same roof, and Caranthir quickly came to the conclusion that Curufin was a little tit, with an ego that matched their father's but without the same level of achievement to back it up. But the thing that really solidified the wedge between them (or as Caranthir would put it, "I love my brother, but I often don't like him very much.") was Fëanor's treatment of their wives.

Curufin's wife, Nyellë, was pregnant with Celebrimbor when Fëanor was banished, and she went into exile with Curufin. Fëanor approves of this, and sees it as an act of loyalty not only to Curufin her husband, but also to him as the true heir to the Noldorin throne. He dotes on Nyellë as a loyal daughter-in-law and the mother of his only grandchild.

But Caranthir's wife, Parmacundë, did not accompany her husband to Formenos. Fëanor sees this as a deep betrayal, and he can't understand why Caranthir does not. But Caranthir didn't expect Parmë to come with him -- not because of any strife in their marriage, but because he knew she would be miserable in Formenos, away from her friends and her work and the city that she loves. I think Caranthir has the healthiest love life in his immediate family, and he wants Parmë to be happy more than anything. He knew he couldn't stay in Tirion, because that would be tantamount to declaring loyalty to Fingolfin, but he also didn't want his wife to give up her life for him. For Caranthir and Parmë, this is a temporary separation. They're doing this because it's the best way to meet both their needs. Neither of them holds any ill will towards the other over it, and the love between them remains as warm and deep as ever.

Fëanor, obviously, does not agree, and when Parmë makes her yearly visits to Formenos to see Caranthir, he treats Parmë very poorly. Curufin being Curufin, he follows his father's lead and also treats Parmë with disdain. This has led to some pretty explosive arguments between Caranthir and Fëanor that not even Finwë has been able to smooth over, with Curufin loudly taking Fëanor's side, Maglor quietly taking Caranthir's side, and Maedhros and the twins just trying to stay out of it.

[silmkinkmeme]

Day 3 - Caranthir/Haleth/Caranthir's Wife - anything

Prompt: Haleth/Caranthir but also including Caranthir's wife to make a beautiful Haleth/elves sandwich... you see the vision. Fill can be super brief or longer. No dnws, trans hcs etc welcome!

I'm also thrilled with creative takes on this eg. Caranthir's wife seducing Haleth without Caranthir knowing or present, transfem Caranthir as the "wife," or something else along those lines--it doesn't have to be strictly F/F/M threesome, but Caranthir's wife (concept or reality) should figure some way or another. Preference for dark-haired, kind of butch Haleth but anything will do!

Ao3 link | dreamwidth link

This prompt has a fill:

Consummation by @pacificgasandelectric

[sexiestfinweanpoll]

[elronds-library]

Listen, oh, I know it’s been a long, long year [WIP]

by steadfastalysanne2022 (@last-capy-hupping)

Part 3 of AWY Verse

It’s been a little over two years since Maedhros got out of an abusive relationship. Sure, he’s still got some lingering trauma and some unresolved issues with his dad, but at least now he has support from his family, his therapist, an actual circle of queer friends, and an amazing boyfriend. Really, he can’t believe how lucky he is to have found Fingon. All that he has to is make it through a family wedding, survive his comprehensive exams, and deal with the sudden return of his sex drive and all the kinks that he thought he’d left behind. But with Fingon at his side, he’s sure that he can manage all of that. And Fingon? Well, he’s never backed down from a challenge before, and he survived coming out to himself and Maedhros after spending twenty-three years convinced that he was straight. He’s sure that he can handle coming out to almost everyone he knows as long as it means that he gets to love Maedhros publicly and proudly. Really, with Maedhros’ support and guidance, he can’t imagine anything going wrong.

Explicit, No Archive Warnings

Words: 49,319