#cedweril

[elesianne]

So I did manage to finish a little fic (or a chapter of a fic, if inspiration keeps coming and I write more later) in 2023! Here it is for you guys on Tumblr.

About a version of Caranthir who married a Sindarin woman in Beleriand while lord of Thargelion; technically a sequel to these fics but can be read on its own, no problem. Rating G.

Caranthir steps out of his fortress as dusk gives way to night and walk to the ramparts, to the ones that face the frozen, snow-covered dark waters of Lake Helevorn. He walks very carefully on the icy stone on top of the wall, cradling close to him the precious bundle he carries.

It is midwinter, and his son is so swaddled up in warm clothes and furs that only his face is visible. All the guards Caranthir passes try peer at the child anyway, eager to catch of a glimpse of their lord's firstborn. Aramdir blinks up at the sky, sleepy, unaware of the interest in him.

In between greeting the guards, Caranthir takes deep breaths of the fresh, cold air that smells of coming snow as well as woodsmoke. He has not been outside since Aramdir was born a week ago. He has been supporting Cedweril and caring for Aramdir, and the past week has been perhaps the best time of his  life, but he has missed fresh air and seeing more of his realm than the bedchamber.

Cedweril is sleeping deeply now, and Caranthir decided to take Aramdir out with him to show him more of the world he was born into.

He stops by a brazier, close enough to warm him and Aramdir but not so close it'll be uncomfortable for the child, he hopes.

He lifts Aramdir a little, showing him the land. The lake, the woods beyond it, the mountains behind the fortress.

'All this is ours', he says to him. He speaks quietly enough for the closest guards not to hear. 'Ours to keep and protect.'

'It is a rather cold land, windy and snowy. Wolves from the mountains, ice in the lake for months of the year. But it is a fair land, even the dark lake. I will teach you to swim there, or your mother will. She is a better swimmer than I. We will ride and hunt in the forest, and climb the mountains, and I will take you to meet the dwarves near their mountain-cities.'

If he ever prayed, Caranthir would pray for peaceful times for his son to grow up in. Instead he makes a silent vow to do all he can to make the coming years peaceful, to fight as many battles as he has to, to slay all the monsters that creep close to the fortress.

His son's will not be a childhood like his was, with tree-light and six brothers and a society wholly unlike what Caranthir has built in Thargelion with his loyal Noldor and his brave Sindar, but it still can be a good one.

Caranthir has to believe so. He may be damned and oath-sworn, but his son isn't him and isn't doomed – surely he cannot be – his half-Noldorin, half-Sindarin son born many years after Mandos's doom. Little Aramdir is his own person, full of possibilities, full of light that Caranthir can see shine brighter than starlight even though his eyes don't shine with the light of the Trees like Caranthir's do.

As he stands there in the cold, clear, evening with his son, they watch the stars come out. The stars and their light, cool but beloved and reassuring, have ever been there even for the banished Noldor. After the trees were gone and before the sun and moon rose, the stars brought light and hope to the world. In spite of everything the Noldor had done, the stars lit their way as they travelled and fought and hunted to keep away evil and hunger and hopelessness alike.

The lord of Thargelion whispers to his child, 'May starlight always light your path, my son, whatever roads and hidden paths of the world you take.'

[we-were-legends]

List of series (still updated)

“We were legends” series -

In ages past, the Iathrim of Doriath chose Beleriand for their home and throughout centuries, they overcame harsh conditions on this land and raised an army to fight against the Darkness and protect their own. But when the calm before the storm has passed, the change of the world will try their strength, adaptability...and put to test their sense of morality, when they discover that everyone is capable of cruelty and betrayal. The Princes of Doriath actively participate in supporting the Kingdom of Doriath to function flawlessly. The four of them found themselves in different roles in the structure of the court, but the idea of powerful Doriath is the goal they aim for,  regardless of their duty. Many see their charisma, fury, powerful freedom and violence of action, but only few remember what it can turn into. A Saga following the deeds and choices of Oropher, the one who leads wolves, but is not one himself, and carves his way through every storm for others to follow.

Relationships: M/M; F/F; F/M

Warnings: Graphic description of violence, wounds and corpses. Foul language may appear. Intimate scenes between characters may occur.

Book I: “Champion’s dawn” -

Oropher, one of the Generals in the army of Doriath, now stands as first to lead the soldiers who march under his Banner. Among his most loyal warriors, his words mean more than law. With blistering fury, he stands his ground where others have no more courage to fight. Others follow him into the fire, a storm of arrows and ruthless battles. Always for victory and always behind him. When the tide changes, Oropher finds himself in a game he never knew even existed. Past decisions and actions come crumbling down on him when the play for power casts a dark shadow on reality, twisting it mercilessly. Oropher’s green eyes will burn with ardent fire, showing everyone that they were right to be afraid. He brings no forgiveness and for the wrongs against his family, the world will burn.

“Glory to us all” series -

“We were legends” universe. It’s not needed to read “Champion’s dawn”, but surely it will help in understanding the relations betwen certain elves.

Short stories about the soldiers of Oropher’s division. Who they were before they joined the army and where they came from. And most importantly, how they changed.

“All or nothing” -

A short story about Saida (OFC) who is a soldier in Oropher’s division. Where did she come from and how did she become Oropher’s soldier? How well Saida managed the trails that the old soldiers presented her? Every challenge she was faced with had a reason and in her time, Saida understood what she needed to do.

“A place where I belong” -

Nelledir (OMC), son of Laegon and Cedweril, decided to follow a different path that was meant for him. He quickly needed to stand on his own legs, if he wanted this or not, and sooner than later he needed to find a place for himself in this new reality.

Slight M/M may appear.

“Song of tomorrow” -

Life writes different scenarios, sometimes forcing to follow ways we never wanted to and Taranir learned this on his own skin. With decision he took, he had to stand right against the challenges that life thrown on him but will it be enough to get rid of a shade and sad memory that follows his every step?

[elesianne]

Fëanorian week: Caranthir

A Silmarillion fanfic

Summary: The lord of Thargelion has fallen into a pattern with one of his healers, and one day he realises he would like to change that pattern.

Length: ~2,700 words, Rating: Teenage audiences & up

Warnings: There are mentions of injuries and blood but nothing terribly graphic.

Some keywords: romance, tending to injuries and bantering while doing it

Fëanorian week prompts: lordship, marriage

A/N: I have an ongoing fic about Caranthir courting a maiden in his youth in Valinor, but I also wanted to write about what kind of a wife he might have found among the Sindar in his own realm of Thargelion. This takes place during the Long Peace and is not 'compliant' with any of my other fics. (AO3 link.)

Sindarin words in the text:  Ai, rhaich! = Agh, curses!, golodh = a Noldo, plural gelydh, Edhil = the name the Sindarin elves use about themselves.

*

The way you touch me

'Of all the bad habits you have, my lord, the worst has to be getting so gravely injured in every single battle that we always meet like this afterwards, me tending to you and you swearing at me.'

Caranthir lets out more fierce profanities as the healer explores an arrow wound, feeling for damage in the surrounding tissue. She ignores his curses and continues her chiding as she works.

'How many times have I told you not to pull out an arrow until someone with at least an elementary understanding of anatomy has determined whether it is better in to fact leave it in until a healer can see to you? You would have avoided quite a substantial amount of blood loss if you hadn't tugged this one out before riding home.'

'I left the other one in, didn't I? You should be happy enough to get to torture me pulling that one out – Ai, rhaich!'

She has taken hold of the black orc-arrow embedded in his shoulder.

'Hold him still, Sadron', she instructs Caranthir's attendant who is assisting her while she tends to their lord in his chamber.

'Yes, Mistress Cedweril', answers the young man. He is wide-eyed but his grip on Caranthir's arm and other shoulder is steady enough that Cedweril is able to continue her work.

Caranthir curses at her again while she pulls the arrow out of his flesh. 'Damn you, woman, I swear you do that as slowly as possible just to punish me for imagined infractions.'

'I do it slowly, you foul-mouthed golodh, to avoid causing further harm to your battered body. You take care of that well enough yourself, charging madly into battle as you do every time.'

Cedweril is not trained in war and stays back at Thargelion, tending to the wounded when they are brought back, but she has heard of the battle fury that takes over their lord as soon as he sees his enemy. Yet in spite of his heedlessness in battle he always makes it back to his fortress on the shore of the Helevorn, as if by some strange grace of the gods he defied.

Every time he returns safely it is the cause of much relief among his people, both those who followed him here from the west and those, like Cedweril, who dwelt here before the gelydh arrived with their bright swords and tall shields that keep dark creatures at bay. Caranthir is a strict lord and a tempestuous one, but he rules justly most of the time and he keeps the land safe.

So Cedweril cares for him best as she can, making sure his injuries will trouble him for as short a time as possible, and she doesn't mind his curses, taking them in her stride and flinging sharp words back at him. She hadn't done so the first few times, had bitten her tongue rather than speak impertinently to a patient who is her lord as well, but she soon realised he prefers his healers' manner acrid rather than gentle.

There are many ways to deal with pain, Cedweril knows. For the lord of Thargelion, the agonising moments of staying still while he is hurt more in order to heal him seem to pass easiest when he gets to lash back at the healer.

Some of the other healers don't realise this, she thinks. Their attempts at a soothing and polite manner must be the reason Caranthir has taken to requesting that she be the one to see to the injuries he gathers at every battle.

Still trading barbs with him, Cedweril cleans the arrow-wounds, applies poultices and bandages his arm and shoulder. Satisfied that those wounds should heal well, she turns her attention to his other arm and the long, ragged slash that runs down from the elbow. She cleans it, very thoroughly since orc blades are often laced with vile poisons that can cause trouble even to elves, and then picks up her needle again.

Caranthir pulls his forearm away, cradling it in his lap. 'Surely you're not going to jab at me with that again? You must know that I have other things to do besides being poked and prodded. I need to organise a group to–'

'If you let me stitch this wound, it will heal faster and better and allow you to return to all of your duties sooner, and to pick up a sword yourself.'

He scowls at her but extends his arm again. 'Be quick about it.'

Cedweril knows better than to pay any heed to a patient's opinions even if that patient is her ruler, and takes her time closing the wound with care. During the day her hair has come partially undone from the braid she wound around her head, and she has to blow stray strands away from her face as she works. Caranthir is uncharacteristically quiet; Cedweril suspects that the furious energy brought on by facing death is finally fading.

She doesn't notice it, but Caranthir closes his eyes while the sharp needle pierces his skin again and again and she murmurs quiet words of prayer. For a moment he allows himself to be as tired and hurt as he is, but even then he tries to concentrate on the touch of Cedweril's fingers on his skin rather than the twinges of pain from the needle she wields in her other hand.

She has touched him many times, all over his body, her fingers always deft and competent, her manner brisk and practical. But even though he is always injured when she touches him, he sometimes has difficulty remembering that he should derive comfort at most from her touch, not pleasure and certainly not dashes of desire. Being brusque and tetchy with her helps a little with that, but he can't keep it up forever, and neither can he blame his reactions solely on being light-headed with blood loss.

He must smell of sweat and blood and orc-filth; Cedweril smells of healing herbs, the sharp but not unpleasant scent of them wafting from her hair that stubbornly keeps escaping her braid. He'd secure the curly strands behind her ears for her if he could, if he didn't have blood on his free hand.

He really should request a different healer next time, but he already knows he won't.

Cedweril finishes her stitching and glances at his face before spreading cleansing paste on the stitches, probably worried by his quietness.

'I am fine', Caranthir tells her. 'Just finish your work.'

She sees that the battle fury has indeed faded from his eyes, leaving them dark and deep but still lit by that near-unbearable light that all who came from the west carry within themselves.

For the hundredth time she wonders how much light there must have been in the land of the Valar that it still burns in everyone born there.

She couldn't ask him that, though, so she says, 'Yes, my lord', and returns her attention to his arm. Spreading the paste, bandaging the forearm – then there is little to do but to rub arnica ointment on the bruises on Caranthir's ribs so that they will heal faster. She expects him to protest this as a waste of time, but is glad when he tolerates it in silence.

'You shouldn't have ridden home through the night in this condition', she tells him and hopes her soft tone doesn't irritate him. 'You had warriors with you that have some skill in tending wounds. You should have made camp and let them help you.'

Caranthir shakes his head, a weary gesture of defiance. 'It wasn't safe to stay and rest. We were ambushed once and we could have been surprised again, this time in the dark while wounded and vulnerable. And besides, none of the others were as gravely wounded as me. It was better to ride home.'

'Your wounds are cause for concern as much as anyone else's, if not more', Cedweril says and turns away to gather her supplies back to her healer's satchel, leaving only one bottle on top of the ornate chest next to the bed.

Caranthir wonders if she avoids his gaze on purpose, and whether she only worries for him because he offers the best protection for the land that has always been her home.

(During the short northern summers he has seen her going swimming with the other Sindarin maidens in the lake; they dive fearlessly into the cold, dark water and float among the shadowed reflections of tall mountains and evergreen trees, and their chatter creates quiet echoes that ring across the still surface of the deep lake.

Cedweril's healer's robes and apron are rather shapeless, but Caranthir knows her to be beyond lovely beneath them because he has seen her emerge from the water, grinning with delight, her shapely limbs shining with waterdrops, the shift she strips down to swim in clinging to her graceful curves…)

Gruffly he says, 'I would have been fine if I had been in my mail rather than hunting leathers. Damned cowardly creatures ambushing us from the shadows.'

Cedweril's fingers sweep down Caranthir's arm once more, ostensibly checking that the bandages are securely tied off but her touch doesn't feel as purposeful as usually, and Caranthir hopes that she is doing it mainly to reassure herself that he is still here and well. He takes her next words as confirmation of his hopes.

'You will be fine as it is, and soon since you gelydh heal fast. But you really should rest now, to recover from losing so much blood; will you let me give you a sleeping draught, or at least promise to stay in bed?'

He hadn't intended to rest quite yet, but she speaks softly now and it doesn't enrage him, just makes him want to allay her worry. 'There are a few matters I need to attend to before I can rest, but I can do that from this room. If I take your foul-tasting concoction, I should still have enough time to speak with one or two people before it sends me to sleep, is that not right?'

'I can give you a dose that allows that', Cedweril nods. She takes the bottle she left on the chest and measures a small amount of the dark, treacly liquid into a cup of water. The pungent smell that arises when she stirs the mixture makes Caranthir grimace.

Before she passes the cup to him, Cedweril asks, sounding like she knows the answer already, whether he would come to recover at the infirmary with the other wounded, so that the healers could keep a close eye on his recovery.

'I know asking this is in vain, but I must do it because the senior healer told me to', she adds.

'You're right, it's no use asking. As always I will recuperate in my own room where I can attend to business without disturbing others who need rest, and without being disturbed myself. If I need you, I will have Sadron send for you.'

He nods at his attendant who is currently engaged in cleaning away the bloody cloths and towels Cedweril used, as well as the pieces of the tunic she cut off him. 'You can clean up the mess later, boy. Go fetch Aphador and Magolben.'

The young attendant bows smartly and leaves the room with swift steps to seek Caranthir's steward and guard-captain. Cedweril puts the bottle of sleeping draught in its own place in her satchel and rises from the stool she has been sitting on next to the bed. She tries to pass the prepared draught to Caranthir, but he waves it away.

'Not yet. There are things I need to tell you.'

'Oh.' She is confused. 'Do you want me to find you a shirt? Or to wet a cloth for you to wash some of the blood away?' She gestures at his face, which is covered in smears of black and crimson blood alike.

Caranthir raises a hand to touch his cheek, looking surprised to find the mess there. 'I'd forgotten about it.' He gives a grim chuckle. 'I must be a frightful sight.'

'A little odd at most, with a clean body and a dirty face.' Cedweril had washed most of the blood on his torso and arms away while she checked his wounds, as well as on his thigh where there had been a gash. He is wearing nothing but loose breeches now, and a blanket draped half-across his legs.

'If the way I look isn't very offensive to you, I'll leave the washing and dressing for later. Sit down for a while longer.'

Cedweril obeys but says, 'I do have other patients to see, my lord.' She looks him determinedly in the face, for the sight of his bare body, bruised as it is, and his arms bandaged, is causing some emotions in her that are very inappropriate for a healer to feel towards her patient. And it is odd to sit here like this, not doing anything.

'Just a moment', Caranthir says, and his eyes are on her face as well, dark and intense and bright in spite of the exhaustion and hurt he must be feeling. He never accepts any medicine that would give him relief from the pain.

I believe he hates feeling half-asleep and vulnerable, but it would be easier for me if he weren't so watchful right now, Cedweril thinks, and tries to push the shameful thought away while she waits for her lord to speak.

'Sometimes in moments like this, after you've stripped me of my clothes and put your hands all over my body to tend to my wounds, I find myself thinking that I'd quite like you to touch me in a different way.'

Cedweril stares at him in shock, though not in horror.

'I'm not asking you to do anything inappropriate', Caranthir assures her with a mild look of amusement. 'Just telling you that one day soon, I would like to spend some time with you when I am not bleeding in five different places.'

Cedweril straightens her shoulders. She can contend with him when he spits curses at her, so surely she can also hold her own when he speaks in this different, unexpected manner.

'Would you like to go swimming with me?' It is a challenge of sorts.

Caranthir is a little taken aback but also very pleased with her answer. 'You have noticed, then, that I sometimes watch you.'

'You don't stare as openly as the other gelydh.' She shrugs and sweeps rebel locks of hair behind her ears. 'It makes it all the more noticeable.'

'But you don't mind.'

'It is a compliment of sorts, isn't it? And we Edhil are not as prudish as your people.'

'No, you are not. I've found it fits me very well.' Caranthir smiles crookedly; he is very content with his eastern land in the shadow of the mountains and his people who, Sindar and Noldor alike, are fierce and loyal.

And there is yet more contentment to be found here, and more than just contentment, he believes.

'I would indeed like to go swimming with you', he says and watches Cedweril flush a little. No doubt he is red-faced himself beneath the blood and dirt, but that doesn't matter, not now.

'You should let yourself heal completely first', Cedweril answers, her eyes sparkling like rare sunlight on the Helevorn. 'If you wish to keep up with me in the water, that is.'

Caranthir smiles again, downs the sleeping draught and tells Cedweril he'll see her again when she comes to change his bandages and then, later, in the water.

Before Cedweril goes she presses a kiss, soft but bold, on his dirty forehead, touching him in a different way already.

*

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feedback is welcome, also on AO3.

[elesianne]

I was tagged a while ago by @arofili​, thank you!

how many works do you have on AO3?

71.

what’s your total AO3 word count?

332,004. wow.

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Only 2 - The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien &  The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien + as a teenager I wrote a couple of Harry Potter fics and, I think, a poem inspired by Star Wars episode III.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Your spirit calling out to mine (214 kudos)

Names of insight, foresight, love (160 kudos)

My sons are the best (151 kudos)

Your colours (119 kudos)

Mid-year's night (112 kudos)

Interestingly, they’re all different kinds of fics. They are, respectively, a novel-length romance fic about canon character/OC, a multi-chapter gen family (kid) fic, a very short humour family (kid) fic, an M-rated playful romance/mild smut fic about the fandom’s most popular ship, and an arranged marriage wedding night M-rated het fic that, it seems, had fandom blind appeal.

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I reply every time. Usually the day after, sometimes later if I’m busy/not well, but I want to reply every time because I appreciate every commenter so much, whether the comment is short or long, and I want to show my appreciation by replying and thanking for comments. I appreciate hits, likes and kudos too, but comments make me feel like I’m not writing into a void.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmm. Probably Burning out. It is more or less angsty throughout.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

No, I haven’t written any.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Hmm. Not really. I’ve had some commenters (mainly on fanfiction.net) who have misunderstood the point or the style of the fic, but not really hate. A comment that I hated was a review whose entire content was ‘update sooner’ – left about 20 minutes after I had posted the final chapter of a fic. That’s not nice, and doesn’t make any sense either.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Not real smut? I have written some loving&humorous or loving&angsty M-rated sexytimes. I don’t seem to be capable of writing explicit stuff.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know.

have you ever had a fic translated?

A few times (3? 4?) into Russian, and I think I had one translation request into Chinese but I don’t know if the person ever did it.

have you ever co-written a fic before?

I don’t think I’m capable of it.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

I honestly don’t have one. I’m an inveterate multishipper!

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ugh, so many. Merelaineth’s story, for one, and Caranthir and Cedweril’s.

what are your writing strengths?

Writing romance, dialogue, emotions, describing inner lives, perhaps character development? Definitely developing OCs – I’ve had to learn to do that to write women in Tolkien’s woefully male-dominated world.

what are your writing weaknesses?

So many, including any proper plotting or action scenes. I’m not focused on getting better as a writer, only on enjoying writing, so I write the kind of fics that I can write.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I have a lot of opinions on this, all of which can be summed up in ‘whatever you do, make it easy and pleasant for the reader to follow your story’. I’m not going to say more than that because I don’t want to shit on anyone’s fun.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Lord of the Rings, heh. In Finnish, as a 12-year-old.

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Your spirit calling out to mine.

I was so late with this that I won’t tag anyone.

[elesianne]

OH THIS GOT EXCITING :D 👀

For you, I again chose as randomly as I could, and happened on the sequel to the The way you... stories, the ones about Caranthir and Sindarin healer Cedweril. To quote any longer bit of the fic would be to spoil its premise, so here is a very short quote from it :)

'I have for long years fought against Fate. Now I have one more great reason to do so.'

[elesianne]

My Caranthir-centric fics

Gen fics

Gen: kid fic, family – General audiences – 2,900 words – AO3 link – Tumblr link

As a child Caranthir loves quiet mornings and Celegorm loves getting up early, so of course they fight at the breakfast table. Sometimes there are casualties but luckily they can be fixed with a little help from brothers and a few stolen tools.

Gen: kid fic, family – General audiences – 1,000 words – On AO3 in English – on Tumblr in English – On AO3 in Finnish – On AO3 in English

Young Caranthir is visiting his grandparents and sends a letter to his mother.

Gen: family, humour – General audiences – 4,000 words – AO3 link – Tumblr link

Somehow Fëanor and Nerdanel are trusting enough to let Celegorm take care of purchasing Caranthir's begetting day gift on behalf of the whole family, and Celegorm totally doesn't abuse their trust by buying his brother the worst-tempered horse in all of Valinor.

Gen – General audiences – 500 words – AO3 link – Tumblr link

Caranthir reflects on the the arms and armour that pass through his hands from the dwarves to the other lords of the Noldor, and the role of this trade in the war against Morgoth.

Gen – General audiences – 420 words – AO3 link – Tumblr link

Caranthir has received visitors despite winter storms.

Caranthir/Cedweril series

Romance – Teen and up audiences – 2,600 words – AO3 link – Tumblr link

The lord of Thargelion has fallen into a pattern with one of his healers, and one day he realises he would like to change that pattern.

Romance, implied sex – Teen and up audiences – 3,200 words – AO3 link – Tumblr link

After a few months of stolen moments, Caranthir and Cedweril go on another of their playful swimming trips and find themselves wanting more.

Caranthir/Tuilindien fics

Have their own masterpost. These fics include the novel-length romance fic Your spirit calling out to mine and its sequels.

[elesianne]

@aylin-sherill​ asked:

Hi!!! I liked the post about WIP's 😁 Im gonna ask for 4,8 and 18, if it is too much  please choose the one with Elenwe 😁

4 FLW WIP - A serious love

This is the one about Elenwë and Turgon courting, from Elenwë’s POV. I’ll try to think of a better title before I actually post it.

Hmm, I’ve actually posted one snipped from this already, here’s another:

Four weeks and a flurry of introductions later, and there is a small yet irrepressibly vocal part of Elenwë's heart that says that yes, actually, she would quite like a prince of her own: one who is tall and serious except when he is not, small smiles often fighting that seriousness at the corners of his mouth.

One who tries and succeeds at being so very proper but also holds his baby brother's sticky hand whenever Arakáno need the comfort, and has a talent for raising his dark brows ever so infinitesimally when he disapproves of something, and has offered to introduce some of the best bits of Tirion to Elenwë. He came to her the day they met, at the end of that midday meal he had with his grandmother and her ladies.

I need to get a move on or I’ll end up posting all of this fic as snippets by the time I finish it 😅 Since it’s not going to be a very long fic.

8 MARRIAGES - A distance too far to bridge - C/T

(@alkarinqque​ this might be of interest to you too ;)

Ok, this is the long-ish (maybe 15-25k words if I ever finish it?) fic about Carnistir and Tuilindien + their daughters during the unrest of the Noldor, the Darkening, and the flight of the Noldor. Its full working title is A distance too far for love to bridge which I think is not even proper English but that’s fine, it’s a working title.

I wrote the first bits of it when I had only a few chapters of Your spirit calling out to mine written, and it is not likely to be finished in a long time, but I really want to finish it! There’s going to be tragic romance and angst and fluff and family stuff and overall a very different kind of experience of a marriage straining than in Burning out which is about Curufinwë and Netyarë during the same period.

Most coherent paragraphs are too spoilery but here’s a little one that has nothing very surprising but touches on the themes of the fic:

Somehow, without Tuilindien noticing, Carnistir’s distrust in the Valar has become as deep as her trust in them that lives in her bones, in the marrow of her being, and feels unassailable and unconquerable; he must never have had that, for his trust to have faltered and failed.

18 The way you III WIP

As the name indicates, this is the sequel to The way you touch me and The way you hold me. Possible full titles are ‘The way you fade from me’ and ‘The way you let go of me’.

It is about Caranthir and Cedweril having a baby, and Cedweril gaining foresight of dark things to come, and how she is powerless to stop them. It is frankly a bit of a bummer (angsty) which is part of the reason I haven’t finished it.

A snippet:

'You're not allowed to go', she says, fierce. 'You are not allowed to go where I will not follow you. Not like this, not now.'

He looks at her like she is some strange thing. 'You have always known that my oath will likely drive me to a death that you may not share. You accepted that risk.'

[we-were-legends]

“Champion’s dawn”

Chapter 49 - “The hunt”

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Celeborn and Arvellon left in the beginning of spring when bits of snow where still visible here and there places of the forest. Now, all the frost was gone and awaited middle-spring had come. It was a time awaited by many, while by some not so much.

As the Royal Family annouced before, a great hunt was being held at the time. A feast in the gardens will be recalled in next centuries with its richness and wealth. Many artists gathered to share their music and song with others, on their head was Daeron, of course, with his diamond voice and wonderful lute in hand.

Many esteemed nobles already gathered in the gardens and enjoyed their time by sharing pleasant conversations and hold amazement for wonderful music that sounded around. The ones who stayed in the gardens were those who didn't wish to take part in a hunt and preferred to wait for the main feast in the peaceful surrounding of the court. However, those who longed to feel a bit of adrenaline rushing through their veins headed off for a hunt.

Oropher was one of those who joined the group for a hunt, but he kept himself a bit on the end and he was not so fast to rush his horse to chase after the hunting dogs that cought a trail of a stag or a boar. He left this great activity for others, such as young and handsome Hadhon who promised to grant his chosen a trophy of a mighty bull, but there were also others, very eager elves who were ready to show what they were made of.

In the meantime, Oropher found himself occupied with more or less interesting conversations. Many of those were a simple act of courtesy and since he was a Prince he had to behave like one and endure whatever was granted him.

In those moments Oropher felt glad that his temper was so well known and many elves didn't keep him occupied for long. He was a complete opposite to Galathil who was a heart and soul of this event and he gathered many elves around himself, enjoying time in pleasant conversation. But it didn't mean that Oropher was completly alone during the ride. Right now he rode side to side with no one other but one of his cousins and surprisingly, Oropher enjoying greatly his company.

Mirdan, and his brother Brass, were his distant cousins, many times removed. Their mother was second cousin to the wife of Lord Talagan who in turn was a first cousin to Morianel, Faineth's mother...it was a bit complicated and for Oropher it matter the most that Mirdan was in a way his cousin and family, and he enjoyed his presence. Which he couldn't say about Brass, his other cousin.

Mirdan was a collected, very tactful and bright elf with a great sense of humour. He joined the hunt with his two young daughters who not long ago turned into grown up elleths. Both of them were misfits seeking curiosity in the world and Mirdan had eyes around head to have them in check. Oropher enjoyed hearing anecdots from Mirdan and short stories from the times when his daughters were still small.

Brass had no such stories to tell. Though he was the older brother to Mirdan, he was this reckless and impulsive one, and he acted without a thought. Supposedly, he was known for being a heartbreaker and he felt no shame of admitting that. He was also known to take both elleth and ellons as lovers, but still he was cheeky enough to spit out innocent comments towards Oropher and truth be told, he spitted out comments towards anyone he could.

Just at the moment hounds springed up to run after the trail they cought and few elves followed the dogs immediately. Since the beginning, quite many animals had been hunted and brought back to the city where the meat would be prepared for the feast.

Somewhere at the beginning, Oropher noticed his aunt, Arradis with her niece Cennan on side. Cennan was very similar to Arradis with her looks, but her eyes lacked such intensity and black hair were not formed in such waves. Some were glad about it, though Oropher didn't know exactly the reason. He knew that Arradis with her lilac eyes as storm waves was unique elf in Doriath. Not as much as Egnaspen, but Arradis was an easy elf to remember. Oropher knew that Lord Laegon, who was Arradis's uncle, for some reason never fully acknowledged her into the family, even though she was the oldest daugher of his brother.

In turn, Arradis cut out from her family and House Laegon, often treating Lord Laegon and Lady Cedweril even with hostility. She was a gentle soul and never seeked conflict, but it seemed that Lord Laegon did something that provoked Arradis to such stance towards them. Knowing his aunt enough, Oropher was convienced that the Lord deserved it like nothing else, but he didn't know much about the conflict between Arradis and Laegon, and he never asked about it.

Edwethon was not at his wife's side and instead he rode beside his brothers, a bit on side as it seemed that they wanted to have a bit of time on their own. In the end, beside Edwethon and Erthor, Galadhon also decided to join the hunt, though not without a bit of of conviencing from Galathil and Oropher.

As they both knew, Galadhon quite often had a hard time with enduring the pain of his old wound. During everyday life it could be easily gentled with herbs and smudges given by the healers, but horse riding most often proved to be a challange to Galadhon, since in the saddle his knee had to be bended for much too long.

Knowing this, it was Galathil who came to Oropher with proposal that they will make Galadhon a surprise and make him a saddle in which he will feel comfortable and stable enough to ride as much as he would want to. And Oropher didn't need much conviencing and he agreed immediately, soon getting to work.

They approached the leathermaster in the stable about the matter and after they explained what kind of saddle they wanted, the elf seemed even more excited than them to get to work. He stated that he never had occasion to do something like this and it will be a perfect training and experience for future reference. Faster than either Galathil or Oropher expected, the first prototype of the saddle was ready.

Since the saddle was measured for Galahon's black horse, they brought the stallion and tried it out immediately. Oropher bandaged his left knee tightly, to mirror the stiffness that Galadhon felt in his leg, and then he scrambled on the horse, which was harder than he expected with so damaged leg and it was even harder to fight the uncomfortable tightness he felt with each passing moment.

In the end they had to do many changes to the saddle, lenghten here, shorten there, change material here, only to find out that after all the changes the saddle didn't fit the horse anymore. And in the meantime, when the leatherworker worked on the saddle, Galathil and Oropher trained the horse so it will get used to the fact that the rider mounted from the right side instead of the left side.

But both Galathil and Oropher knew that neither of them truly knew how Galadhon was feeling with his injury and they won't ever know it for sure. So when they finally decided to present the saddle to Galadhon they were probably more nervous than they should be.

The saddle was a bit more compacted and seemed bigger than the average one, also it seemed more heavy, but the leatherworked made sure that the materials will make it as light as it should be since the stallion was not made to carry so heavy one. And to relief of Galathil and Oropher, not only the horse felt perfect in new saddle, but Galadhon as well and from there on, he was able to enjoy time on the back of the horse as he aused to do before his horrible injury.

When an elf rode up close to Oropher, he focused up from his musings and turned to look at him, precisely knowing who he will see. Esgar enjoyed the ride more than even he would have expected himself and his first nervousness was quickly lost when Galathil drawed him into conversation with his closer friends. Galathil also said something that Oropher may be lost as it went to social gatherings, but he will make sure that Esgar won't end up like this. Oropher decided to not react to his cousins snarky comment and so, Esgar was quickly taken away by Galathil.

'How do you find the elves of esteemed Houses of Doriath?' Oropher asked with delicate smile when he reached out and held Esgar's hand in his own.

'Very well to be honest.' Esgar said. 'Great majority of them is no different from the elves I befriend everyday.'

'I suspect that it's because Galathil chooses such friends for himself.' Oropher laughed delicately. 'But I'm glad you enjoy your time.'

He quickly noticed that Esgar fall a bit behind, so Oropher slowed down his horse as well and soon enough they started to get a distance behind the main group and they were not the first pair to do so on purpose.

'Beside your uncles and aunt, I didn't really have a pleasure to meet any other Lords or Ladies.' Esgar said and Oropher leaned in the saddle to kiss him.

'You don't have to get to know any of them now. It's not a banquet of this sort.' Oropher said and when they were enough distance behind, he turned his horse to ride into the woods and leave behind the wide path. Esgar followed him and soon cought up to him again.

Some trees looked down at them and took away branches so they can pass freely beneath them. Other trees were a bit asleep, reaching high towards the sky to catch warm sun beams. Oropher and Esgar passed between the trunks from time to time brushing the bark with fingers and answering greetings they were graced with.

Spring bloomed fully in the woods, forest flowers rose in the clearings in many colours and trees granted shadow to bypassers. Soft wind in their green leaves was a known music of Doriath and Oropher preferred it far more than Dearon's llute pinging.

Soon enough, Oropher noticed a small pond a bit overgrown with the nature around. Tall grasses covered it, making it hard to notice and surely all around the pond was a deep mud and Oropher was not so fast to get close to it. Instead, he stopped his horse near the tall chestnut tree and he dismounted, hearing that Esgar followed his steps.

Oropher turned to look at him and Esgar was fast to get close to him and embrace him around upper waist, resting hands on lower back, and Oropher in turn kissed him lightly on lips.

'I'm glad you get to know my closest family.' he said. 'Beside my cousins, I really wanted you to meet them.'

'And it was a great honour to me.' Esgar said in turn. 'You uncle Galadhon is such a figure and to this day he is often recalled by the soldiers. And your uncle Edwethon has such hearing in the court and he is known to speak out harsh words if he doesn't like something.' he paused for a moment. 'Truth be told I was more anxious to meet him than Lord Galadhon.'

'I don't blame you.' Oropher said. 'My uncle is known to have a bit...strict opinions on some matters and at the beginning I thought he won't accept my relationship with another ellon.'

'Actually, I was a bit surprised about his reaction.' Esgar admitted with a smile. 'He just nodded and said 'finally'.'

'Ah, you see, my dear Esgar, my uncle believes that it takes me and Celeborn too long to find our loved one.' Oropher said as he embraced his lover in turn. 'He was always saying that it not befit a Princes to be alone for so long...and he never approved that we brought lovers to our apartments.'

'Is that so?' Esgar smiled suspiciously. 'Then how many of them you brought to your room that your uncle looked at it with scornful eye?'

'All it took was single Alagos.' Oropher said with a smile, then he became a bit more serious. 'After some time I realised that uncle Edwethon will accept anyone for partner as long as either me or Celeborn will decide to form a stable relationship, so I stopped worrying. And I even start to suspect that my uncle is forming an aura of harshness around himself just to have peace and quiet, and so no one will undermine his words.' he looked cleverly at Esgar. 'You know, deep inside he has a soul of an artist. He especially enjoys painting, but he is also skilled with many intruments.'

'You speak about him in such way and yet, I feel that you are...not so very close with him.' Esgar said and he was looking at Oropher carefully.

Oropher was not truly surprised that Esgar noticed it. His lover knew him enough to recognise change in his words and moods, also in his movements. And Oropher was sure that he behaved differently while being around Edwethon and Esgar noticed it with ease.

'No, I am not...we grew apart.' Oropher said quietly and he sighted, shaking his head. 'There are unsaid matters between us...he was against the idea of me and Amdir joining the army and he never acknowledged it. He got used to it, what else he could do? But he never fully accepted it.' he paused for a moment. 'When Amdir left, I think that this was a moment when we broke apart. Since then we never truly talked like I do with my father, or with uncle Galadhon. He never said it...but I think he blames me for Amdir's leave.' he shook his head. 'Then Arvellon followed my steps and joined the army against Edwethon's wishes. This was one more time when I crossed his path.'

'But you can't know what he thinks if you won't ask him.' Esgar said as he took a bit of hair off Oropher's face. 'I truly doubt that he blames you for anything.'

'It's not that simple.' Oropher sighted deeply. 'I did many things against him in the past, just out of spite. When Amdir left I knew that he felt scorn against me. I was angry enough at Amdir and it easily backfired at my uncle, so I did everything that this scorn between us will get only deeper. That he would know that everything what I was doing against him was on purpose and I made sure that he would know it.' he paused there. 'I never made it easy for him to feel anything more than exasperation towards me.'

'He is you uncle and he loves you.' Esgar said softly with ease belief. 'You should try to approach him when you will be ready.'

Arvellon used to say the same. Oropher even suspected that his young cousin blamed himself that Oropher's relation's with Edwethon got worse because he joined the army. It was not true, Oropher's own problems with Edwethon started long before Arvellon was even born, but his young cousin even offered once that he could speak with Edwethon on Oropher's behalf to which he didn't agree.

This ease confidence of Esgar was kind of the same as Arvelon's one. But conflict between him and Edwethon could be only resolved by them and no one else.

'Don't worry yourself with it.' Oropher said as he caressed Esgar's cheek. 'I am glad he accepted you and I believe that he would like to know you, just as uncle Galadhon. And aunt Arradis simply loved you.'

'So I noticed.' Esgar smiled. 'Now I can easily see Arvellon's spirit in her. No wonder that he unites so many allies around himself with his charisma and this gentle strength that allows him to lead most fierce warriors.'

'He will be a perfect commander, won't he? I can already see him on Mablung's side or even taking his place. I wish to see it with my own eyes, I want him to exceed me.' Oropher said as he straightened up a bit and placed his hands on Esgar's shoulders, then he looked around suspiciously to make sure no one was truly around. 'Do you want to hear a secret?'

'Is it a very secret secret?'

'It's the most secret secret you will hear in a while.' Oropher said as he pulled Esgar to walk.

They made way towards the willow tree that provided pleasant shadow and hide them from sight with long braches that fell down towards the ground. When they were beneath it Esgar cought him around arms and pulled down, and though Oropher tried to fight it, he lost his balance and they both landed on soft grass. Esgar still hold on to him, but Oropher didn't mind that he lied down on him.

'Why you always insist to make us fall to the ground?' Oropher said when he rised up a bit to look at his lover.

'It's funny to see you struggle against it.' he laughed then he rised up a bit and leaned his back on a trunk, and Oropher made himself comfortable and it turn leaned on Esgar's chest. 'Better tell me your most secret secret.'

'It's still long before it will happen.' Oropher said as he played with strands of Esgar's black hair. 'But when Arvellon will be ready...I will step down from my rank. He will become a General in my place.'

He looked up at Esgar to see his reaction. He was curious what it will be as he had never shared this with anyone, not even with his father and not even with Taranir. But long ago Oropher decided that this will happen as soon as Arvellon will be ready for it and probably nothing will lead him away from this idea.

'It would mean that you would have much more free time.' he said with his typical smile. 'Are you sure Arvellon is not ready for it yet?'

'Esgar!' Oropher chastened him and Esgar it turn kissed him shortly on lips.

'Surely it's something that won't be expected by many elves.' he said as he held Oropher close. 'And you should think if it's what you truly want.'

'Arvellon's future is what concerns me the most.' Oropher said. 'He is a born commander. And I am a born warrior. My place is on the field...or maybe I will become a training officer?'

'You want to teach others?' Esgar said with disbelief and laughed. 'Don't sentence young soldiers for such a cruel thing! They will resign from the army during the first day!'

'I am a good teacher, I never said I was a nice one.' Oropher said with fake offence. 'But you just dig out a deep hole for yourself. Do something so it won't become a grave.'

He barely finished what he was saying when Esgar kissed him deeply and in an answer Oropher embraced him, one hand around chest and other on his neck, returning the kiss as much as he was given one. At this moment there was nothing but Esgar and their pieces of soul softly touching each other, only deepening the feeling of love and familiarity between them. But minds and hearts seeked more simple pleasure and vivid images slowly woke up their desire.

Oropher pulled away to look at Esgar, at his delicately flushed cheeks and bright eyes that were now in colour of honey with blue sparks.

'That will do, my love.' he said. 'You managed to cover your misdeeds.'

'I can do far more than this to cover my misdeeds.' Esgar said and Oropher didn't wait for long to kiss him again. Esgar moaned into the kiss when Oropher brought hand under his shirt, but in a moment when Esgar did the same thing to him, there were distant sounds of hooves in the forest and snorting of horses.

Esgar rolled closer towards the trunk to be sure that no one will see them and he pulled Oropher with himself, and Oropher coudn't prevent a laugh at Esgar's tries. They stayed a bit in silence, laying in tall grass, listening to the riders passing somewhere around but far enough to not see them.

'It seems we are not the only ones seeking a solitary place for ourselves.' Oropher said as by now he identified that those were two riders strolling through the woods.

'Well, it's boring to only ride and ride through the forest, while lovemaking in the woods is something many hope for.' Esgar said and he moaned softly when Oropher got his both hands under his shirt and caressed his warm body. 'I thought we don't want them to see or hear us?'

'If they do they will leave faster.' Oropher said. 'And it's you who said something about lovemaking.'

'Did I?' Esgar asked innocently, but Oropher closed his mouth with yet another kiss. Voices of riders became more distant with each passing moment and in this time Oropher managed to unbutton Esgar's upper shirt to kiss his neck.

But after one pair arrived another one. Still, the riders were far enough so they won't be seen anyhow and Oropher preceed with what he planned to do to Esgar. Beside focusing on getting more and more sound of pleasure from Esgar, Oroher could hear clearly elleth's laugh, surely at something that her chosen had said to her ear, only for her to hear.

'Damn it, all of them had to come here?' Oropher cursed as he fought with more buttons on Esgar's shirt and he kissed his lover even more, sometimes nipping skin and enjoying muffled moans of Esgar who often covering his mouth with hand so his voice won't be heard all over the forest.

'It's a good place for rendezvous, you know...ah! Damn it, Oropher!' Esgar cursed and he bit his lip a moment later when Oropher kissed his collarbone and his hand slipped down from waist and got under Esgar's breeches, teasing him mercilessly.

For a moment Oropher wondered if the elves nearby heard them, but this thought was quickly lost. Although what they were doing was far less than wise, it was something new and it was exciting – having each other is such place with possibility to be discovered.

Esgar seemed to have enough teasing on his part. He straightened up a bit and grabbed Oropher's hips with both hands pulling him closer to himself, so Oropher almost landed on his laps. Then Esgar leaned forward and send them both on the wood moss, and Oropher groaned when his back met the hard ground. Esgar fell on him and covered Oropher with his body, and Oropher was embracing him by arms, bringing closer.

As quickly as expected Oropher's breeches were removed, though not with usual carefulness. Both of them were fast to get what they wanted and Oropher's breechers still remained on his one leg. In this situation none of them cared – they wanted each other here and now, fast, as soon as they could and as soon as they were both ready.

Oropher was kissing Esgar ferociously, something that was perfectly mirrored in this moment as their need to have one another was equal. It was clear to Oropher what Esgar wanted from him and how he wanted him, and it was easy for Oropher to accept it. He untied Esgar's own breechers and took his member in hand, caressing it and teasing the tip with fingers. He could almost feel Esgar's muscles tightening, and Oropher felt how ready his lover was - Esgar's moans spoke for themselves, after all, and he had to pull away and breathe heavily from their heated kiss to calm himself.

'S-stop this teasing, you bastard!' Esgar managed to say as he sunk down do kiss Oropher's neck and he tilted head to have more of it.

'Then do something so I will stop.' Oropher managed to say in turn and he closed his eyes at the feeling of Esgar's warm lips dropping from his neck to collarbone. He barely managed to finish when Esgar grabbed him again and shifter lower beneath himself. Knowing what Esgar wanted to do Oropher gave himself freely and in a moment Oropher held tight to Esgar when he carefully started to prepare him, sensing with intuition when he was ready to have more.

All the thoughts about his family, about the hunt and being discovered were soon lost to unbelievable pleasure. There was only Esgar kissing him, making love to him almost roughly, but this is what they both wanted this time. Except Oropher's breeches that were partly taken off, they were both dressed and it turned them on more that anything they cared to think about now. Esgar held him tightly, his fast, powerful thrusts pinned Oropher harder to the ground with every move. When they were not kissing, they had to muffle their moans and sounds of pleasure by covering their mouths.

They were spend much faster than they wanted, but they knew that with the tempo they put on themselves they won't endure a moment more. All of it was fast and rough – just what they wanted. And they knew that it was probably their time to head back and join the group unless they wanted to make their disappearance much more noticable.

'Now my back hurts.' Oropher complained when they both calmed themselves enough and lied next to each other. 'Next time it's you laying on hard ground.'

Esgar rised up and got above him to kiss Orophe gently on lips, something that was gladly returned.

'I will gladly do that on the next occasion.' he said and winked at Oropher. 'Don't worry, I will take care of you once we will be back in the city.'

'You will bring me cold drinks during the feast.'

'At any moment you want, love.' Esgar said and Oropher kissed him shortly on lips, before they scrambled from the ground and made themselves look more representable by buttoning their shirts and brushing off dirt from their breeches and coats. When they were ready they called their horses and went back on the road to join the large hunting group they left before.

It took them quite a time to finally regroup and along the way Oropher shot down a large pheasant. Roasted pheasant was very popular in Menegroth and with right spices it could be easily counted as one of the favourite dishes. But beside the purpose of eating the bird, Oropher wanted some kind of excuse of why they previously disappeared with Esgar.

When the tail of the riders was visible, Oropher and Esgar bid their horses to gallop to catch up to them. Oropher easily recognised that they were on the way back to the city after making a round way though the woods. So, the time of the feast was getting closer and soon everyone would enjoy it with a goblet of good wine in hand.

'Here you are, cousin!'

Oropher noticed Galathil riding close to him and soon their horses rode shoulder to shoulder.

'I will tell you a secret.' Galathil said conspirationally and he winked to Oropher. 'Such rendevous are good for youngsters, but the elves of your age?'

'Is that so?' Oropher crossed arms on chest, but then he tilted head at the pheasant he binded to his own saddle. 'I don't know what you are trying to say, but we went to track down a boar. But we lost the trail, so we brought a pheasant instead.'

'Oh, really, cousin? And I wonder why you lost this trail, hmm?' Galathil said with a smile. 'Don't worry, I was young once as well.'

'We are the same age, genius.'

'Young with my love to someone.' Galathil precised and he smiled again at Oropher. 'At least I hope you had a good time.'

'Let's say that the ground was a bit hard.' Oropher said and Esgar on the other side of him laughed a bit, then reached out to him and brought his closer for a kiss.

Their way back passed by in plasant company of Galathil and later on Cennan joined them. Along the way Oropher noticed many pairs riding from the forest and joining the group as if nothing happened, though Oropher precisely knew what they were doing in the woods. And most likely not only Oropher was sure about that, but great majority of the elves chose to not see it.

As the Gates of Menegroth became visible, they passed by the friendly trees at the edge of the forest that always send their pleasant words in shake of leaves. But now, they were strangely quiet as if contemplating something. Oropher glanced at the trees on one side, then at the ones on the other side, but all of them were strangely still and only wind moved their branches.

Soon, they left the trees behind and passed by the Gate that was opened wide and awaited their return. The worse part of the event was about to begin, but Oropher hoped that together with Esgar they will manage to leave the feast earlier, without anyone noticing.

But truly, he should have known better. The only consolation was that Esgar was bringing him drinks wherever he wanted it.

[elesianne]

Fëanorian week stories 2017

I managed to write something for every day. Here are teasers and links to all the fics.

All of these work as standalone stories, though characters from my other fics make some appearances.

Maedhros – 2,200 words – Gen, family, fluff, angst – Prompts: childhood, adjusting/coping – AO3 link / Tumblr link

Maedhros stares at the fire while he sings, and if he sees in the flames the faces of those long-ago children he has lost, it is surely just because the song reminds him of them and not because the burden of their deaths is heavier to bear each day.

Maglor – 650 words – Romance, angst – Prompts: none – AO3 link / Tumblr link

‘I promised you that I would always follow you’, his wife says, trailing her hand in the warm water of the sun-kissed lake by whose shore tonight’s dream takes place. The waves lapping at Maglor’s feet feel as real as anything ever has.

Celegorm – 1,600 words – Gen – Prompts: hunting, Oromë & Huan, childhood – AO3 link / Tumblr link

There is something about being surrounded by wild, growing things that makes him feel less restless than the white walls and marble houses of the city where he has lived all his life.

Caranthir – 2,700 words – Romance – Prompts: marriage, lordship – AO3 link / Tumblr link

Cedweril’s fingers sweep down Caranthir’s arm once more, ostensibly checking that the bandages are securely tied off but her touch doesn’t feel as purposeful as usually, and Caranthir hopes that she is doing it mainly to reassure herself that he is still here and well.

Curufin & Celebrimbor – 1,300 words + second chapter added later– Gen, family, humour – Prompt: Celebrimbor – AO3 link / Tumblr link

Curufinwë sniffs the air close to Tyelpë’s face, a look of suspicion spreading on his own, then sniffs again. 'Did you treat his cuts with horse liniment?!’

'I might have’, Tyelkormo says, a feeling of dread taking over him.

Curufin – 2,100 words – Gen (almost), slash (almost) – Prompts: manipulation, ruling of Nargothrond, Celebrimbor – AO3 link / Tumblr link

'Few things are beautiful without any hard or dangerous edges’, Finrod replies, and Curufin cannot help but agree. After all, it seems that even Finrod is not without them.

Amrod & Amras – 2,400 words – Gen, family, angst – Prompts: childhood, twin, regrets – AO3 link / Tumblr link

Pityafinwë lays his bloody gauntlet on Telufinwë’s cheek and Telvo does the same to him, and they lean their foreheads together for a moment. When their father calls to them a short while later Telvo follows his twin to the ship and doesn’t look back, not like he did when they rode away from Tirion.

Fëanor & Nerdanel – 3,200 words – Romance – Prompts: travelling, marriage – AO3 link / Tumblr link

A small smile, like one hiding a secret, curves Nerdanel’s lips. For once Fëanáro isn’t in a hurry to learn a secret; he thinks he will discover it eventually, and that slowly searching will be a delight even greater than discovering new places.

[elesianne]

leeshajd replied to your post: Fëanorian week: Caranthir                

I really enjoyed this! Do you intend to write any more on Caranthir and Cedweril? 😊

Glad to hear you liked this :) I might write more about them? I do have some ideas for their eventual swimming excursion. It might take me a while to get around to writing that, though, because I have many other ongoing stories that I’ve been neglecting to write these Fëanorian week fics, and I should write new chapters for them first.