#ecthelion scenario

[doodle-pops]

Love Scenario

Ecthelion x reader

Request: Hey! Can I request a dating fic between reader and Ecthelion? How does he woo/court her? What about their engagement? Wedding plans? Especially if this is set in Valinor after the FoG, and he’s just come back to life, and like, omg, now I have this lady I want to check out when I’m fresh out of soul prison. He probably relies on Glorfindel a little bit because he’s been more established since the late Second Age and comes from a “house of princes.” - Anon

A/N: As mentioned, I absolutely enjoyed writing this piece for Thel.

Warnings: fluff, humour, Egalmoth and Glorfindel helping their dear best friend, a bit of a sentimental moment, indirect confession

Words: 2.5k

Synopsis: With his return to Valinor and the desperate call to take action, Ecthelion has made it his purpose, day and night, to construct the perfect future for you happily ever after.

“How long has he been like this?”

“Since he returned.”

“…That’s over five months, Laurë!”

A weary side-eye glance at Egalmoth from Glorfindel and the former folded his lip to refocus his attention to their dear friend who was fretting over the right colours to paint the interior of your future house. Ask him if he had plucked the courage to speak to you upon his return and he’d throw swears at his friends. But he was already envisioning his life with you as though the most important action was completed. Dream on.

“Cream, bone white or ivory cream?” Came the steady voice of Ecthelion. In his hands were strips of the colours he suggested and on his face was a panicked expression as though he was running out of time.

Frowning and ready to calm his dear friend, Glorfindel stretched his palms outwards and gently waved them up and down to soothe the madman or rather, elf. “Thel, don’t you think this is all too much? You haven’t even asked—”

“Yes, I just did. What colour should I choose?” Ecthelion enunciated and widened his eyes further to emphasise his point.

At this point, it was Egalmoth to the rescue as he placed the vat of wine down and exhaled, ready to appear as the saviour to most, since all was impossible, of his stress. “What is the purpose of the colours, Thel?”

“Balusters for the balcony,” Ecthelion responded calmly as though you and he were already living together—in his head, you were—and he was tasked with the décor, both interior and exterior.

The room fell into silence as all three Lords were left at one another, or rather both Glorfindel and Ecthelion were left gawking at Ecthelion’s seriousness. Not a stutter or flatter in the batting of his lashes did Ecthelion show any signs of uncertainty when it came to answering their questions. He was indeed picking out the colour of the balusters for the balcony, so when you wished to hang your baskets of flowers or sit in the evening and gaze at the setting sun, whatever you wore would be highlighted by the colour the balusters were.

Tongue in cheek, Glorfindel closed his mouth and flashed an awkward grimace before cutting the silence with an answer. “Bone white, especially if you’re choosing to paint your house in blue, it would mesh well with each other.”

Grateful for the say, Ecthelion wasted no time in returning to his colour scheming and designing of your future home with a small ‘thank you’. However, Egalmoth was beginning to find confusion in this entire dynamic since they were both against feeding into their dear friend’s delusions. The look of disgust plastered across the silver-haired male’s face as he scrutinised Glorfindel grew intensely as the second ticked by.

“Are you serious? No, no, no, don’t cut me off. I’m being serious here,” he protested at Glorfindel’s attempt to sway his mind. Dropping his voice and octave and inching his head closer to bridge the gap between him and the latter, he whisper-yelled, “Are you serious?! We were asked to help him finish his confession letter so he could serenade Y/N, not indulge in his delusionary fantasies that cannot exist until he confesses! Why are you helping him?!”

Amused at the sudden outburst from his comrade, he released small chuckles at his concern for their ‘puppy love’ friend. “But weren’t you—”

“No, no, no, no, no. Do not categorise me as an accomplice when I am not!” Pinching his brow, Egalmoth flung his back against the cushioned chair a little too hard, defeating the cushioning purpose. A quiet yelp slipped out before a series of exasperated sighs followed and a single eye roll. “I’m here to help lover boy get his lover, not keep him looking like a sick puppy.”

Unable to respond, Glorfindel watched with laughter as Egalmoth rose from his seat and trudged over to Ecthelion to pry the sheet of paper out of the ebony-haired elf’s hands which almost sparked an outburst.

“Alright, I’ve had enough. You summoned us to aid you with wooing Y/N and here we are aiding you with picking house colours. Well no more! Get me your best rendition of your confession Laurë helped you write. Get up!” With a wave of his hand, Egalmoth ushered Ecthelion to his feet to recite his poem. Unfortunately, Thel was able to cast a sheepish expression which spoke volumes and made both Lords groan.

Holding his palms upwards to surrender, he defended himself as best as he could. “In my adversity, I was overcome with excitement for our future each time I sat down to finish the poem, so I have an excuse.”

This time, it was Glorfindel who turned on the heat and cast his dear friend a look of disappointment. With his arms and legs crossed, he bore holes in Ecthelion’s head, creating possible solutions to help his helpless friend without launching his harp at his head. Needless to say, Glorfindel sighed heavily with the pressures of another person’s burden on his shoulders. “Where’s the parchment with the poem? Let’s see how well we can impersonate the great Elemmírë and create a masterpiece for you to profess your undying love for Y/N. Only this time you’re alive and not dead.”

Ending his joke with laughter, accompanied by Egalmoth, he rose from his chair to grip the parchment from Ecthelion’s hands as he produced it from inside his robes. With another disappointed shake of his head, he requested a charcoal and soon, all three were—rather two since Ecthelion kept interrupting to discuss your future—slaving away to create a poem worthy of your name. Nonetheless, after the first hour and a half passed, he managed to get into the flow of creating words from his mind and very soon the poem was halfway completed.

“Okay, so we have the first two stanzas down—thankfully!” sassed Egalmoth as he threw an unbiased glare at the ebony hair Lord who did not hesitate to return one with common courtesy. “I think one more stanza could be added; try fitting in a line that confesses his love?”

Sharply reading through what was already written, Ecthelion had found everything to be perfect, yet still missing something. Prying the parchment from Glorfindel’s fingers, Thel paced up and down the drawing room muttering to himself about the things he could include about you.

Your eyes? Your voice? Your beauty—no, that was already included. Perhaps…

And so, he began to recite the poem in hopes of conjuring the rest.

“In gardens fair, where roses bloom,

A beauty found, defying gloom.

Like you, fair one, a bloom so rare,

With an elegance that fills the air.

“Yet in this garden, one may find,

A soul as lovely, gentle, and kind.

Each delicate curve, each gentle hue,

Reflects the sweetness found in you.

“Oh, delicate rose of whispered sighs,

In your presence, the world complies,

For your grace outshines the floral art,

A masterpiece of tender heart.

“So let me liken you, my dear,

To roses blooming, ever near.

For in your grace, in every part,

You hold the essence of my heart.

“I lo—”

He froze as though the words were stuck in his throat. At the tip of his very tongue, he knew the next syllable to whisper to you whenever he got the chance. Yet, it refused to fall off his tongue as though something held it back. The trembling of his hands gave it away, though his slight stubbornness pushed his fear away and replaced it with confidence.

False confidence. He scoffed and stared at the ivory cream carpet.

What was he to be afraid of? He was the Great lord Ecthelion of the Fountain who slayed four Balrogs and great tales were sung of him. He stared death in its eye, confessing to you would be as easy as walking through the silvery streets of Gondolin once again. Yet something held him back.

The day he left you in the city of Tirion that day he departed, gnawed at his memory. It was easier to picture being with you than working up the courage to share his heart knowing that you might reject him. You had every right to since he floundered the opportunity ages ago. It didn’t matter how many forms of encouragement came his way; anxiety lurked overheard. His only wish was that he had confessed to you before departing to reduce this turmoil.

“Thel?” The soft whisper of Glorfindel’s voice woke him up and returned him to reality. “Is everything alright?”

There was a deafening silence before the crumpling of paper followed by a sigh. “Who am I fooling? I can’t bring myself to do this anymore.”

“Oi, mate! What are—What are you doing? We’ve come so far,” Egalmoth reasoned as he shot from his seat with his hands outwards. “You can’t back out now!”

“Well, I am!” Ecthelion responded curtly, whipping his head around to shoot a tired look at his friends. “All this…All of this I’m doing, and what if Y/N rejects me? I had the opportunity aeons ago and I didn’t—”

“And yet Y/N stayed without loving someone else. Isn’t that enough to let you know that they’re waiting for you to still try? Imagine if you didn’t have this chance, and they found someone else, you would blame yourself, right? Then don’t! Come on, Thel,” Egalmoth encouraged as he took steps closer to his friend, bending down to retrieve the balled-up parchment off the floor. “Don’t let all those months of designing your future home be for nothing! Picture me as Y/N; what would you say if you had the chance?”

The glare he threw at Egalmoth was enough to make anyone else scurry away. The temper and fury behind his eyes; water brimmed his lower lashes as a barbed wire found its way around his neck. The first inhale he took burned his lungs. It was better to be left in the fantasy world.

Parting his lips, his silver-grey eyes burnt with passion as his heart cried a symphony of love. “I would say that I’m sorry, and I love you.” he began with a feathered whisper, “I have loved you morning, noon and night, even in death. My soul yearns for the very essence of yours for I cannot exist without you; I do not think that I can. I wish to be at your side in this life, hereafter and the next; I never wish to be parted from you from this moment onwards. I only wish to cherish you…if you would forgive me and accept me as I am.”

The silence in the air was thick. A pin could fall to the carpet and a sound would ricochet. Both Lords were caught by the throat from the rawness of the confession, a stark contrast to what was originally discussed. Flowery words.

Heaving as though a burden was lifted from his chest, Ecthelion felt tears pooling his low lashes from the anxiety he suffered from his mistakes. He just wanted to be with you. Not go through this turmoil of overcoming his f—

Clap! Clap! Clap! “Oh, that was beautiful!”

The sound of three necks snapping simultaneously reverberated clearly in your eardrums as your sudden voice and clapping startled all three Lords. However, once all three pairs of eyes were locked on your figure standing gracefully as ever in the doorway, you froze mid-clapping and stood at attention, eye darting from left to right. You felt like you were unintentionally being scolded by your old buddies.

Shuffling on your feet, you offered a wolfy grin with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, the worker informed me that Lord Ecthelion was in the drawing room relaxing with familiar company and I was permitted to enter. If I’m obstructing, I’ll come back another time.���

“Oh no, no, no, no!” exclaimed Glorfindel with a beam brighter than the sun as the opportunity of a lifetime presented itself on a diamond platter. He wasted no time in flying out of his chair and grabbing Egalmoth by his scruff to head towards the exit, leaving Ecthelion standing confused in the centre of the room. “You can stay and chat with Ecthelion, we were just heading to the kitchen for condiments since he enjoys starving us. Farewell Y/N, we’ll catch up another time!”

You stood aside as both Lords brushed past your figure to rush down the hallway in the opposite direction of the kitchen as far as you could remember from your childhood. Pinching your brows with a whimsical expression, you remained standing in the doorway, not wanting to appear any more intruding than you had already proven to be. There was a curt nod from you in the ebony-haired elf’s direction, an awkward action which made no sense, yet proved to ease your nerves.

Tongue in cheek, you eyed the interior of the room before returning your focus to the statue of an elf at the centre. “I liked your words, the declaration of love, I meant. Is it for a play, not that I knew you to be the type of person to engage in those activities, or a song or poem?”

“Yes,” he curtly responded. The most unmanageable response to escape his silvery tongue slipped out. In Ecthelion’s head, he was screaming and attempting to drown himself for his foolish display. In his mind, his day was going from great to good to terrible to I-don’t-know-if-this-should-be-counted. Where and when did you spawn from?

Awkwardly nodding your head at his reply, you raised your brow. “Nice, um, I wanted to personally come here to give this to you,” you murmured and crossed the floor to stand a foot from the centre to hand him an envelope with his name written. “It’s a banquet and my family told me to invite a plus one, so—”

“You thought of me?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

Your face fell at the suddenness of his low confidence. The Ecthelion you knew from yesteryears would not have doubted anyone’s decision to have him as a first choice; this was not your Thel.

“You don’t wish to attend? My apologies, I’ll just take back the invite then.” Your hands made a grab to pry the envelope from his fingers, but he was quicker to move it out of your grasp. Deflating at his actions, you huffed. “Do you want to attend the banquet or not?”

“Yes! But why?”

“W-…Why?! Thel, I haven’t seen you in ages,” you angrily laughed and felt a wave of emotion welling in your throat making it difficult to meet his eyes. “I missed you and I did miss your return because I was busy preparing for the banquet hoping that I could spend the night with you. Chatting, drinking, dancing, or finding a secluded spot away from everyone. I miss you, and I know you miss me too. So come, please.”

You missed him. You missed him. You wanted to spend time with him alone. No better words were spoken from your lips to convince him to stay away. A moment the doors of opportunity opened; this time he was not ignoring it.

Clutching the envelope firmly between his fingers, he smiled. Gingerly nodding his head before breaking into it vigorously, he gave you a look of affection he could not resist. “I’ll be there in my finest wear.”

“Lovely!” you beamed and stared into his eyes. The tears were still brimming your lashes, only in smaller quantities which was less of an issue now that the problem was resolved. “And perhaps you can recite the confession you gave to Egalmoth earlier at the banquet, I’d love to hear it once more, in private.”

Understanding the meaning behind your words, he gave a gentle, yet stiff nod. “Of course,” he breathed with a look of anxiety. “Of course, a confession for you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @involuntaryspasms @mcwentfandomtraveling @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster

[dfwbwfbbwfbwf]

Tolkien - My Takes 1

A Bro from Spite AU

A Guide to My Boys and Girls

A Handy Device

A king is he that can hold his own, or else his title is vain.

A Real Conversation, Circa FA 438

Aman to Beleriand Travel Time

Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth - Marriage in War

Aragorn and Arwen's Relationship

"Art" of the House of Finwë

Avoiding the Kingship at all Cost

Beards and Fëanáro

Beren and Lúthien are Worse than Fëanáro

Beren and Lúthien Didn't Take Down a Dark Lord

Beren and Lúthien = Moringoþo

Best Way to Start A Silm Movie/TV Show

Better Than Ingwë

Birds of a Feather - Dior, Elwing, and the Fëanárions

Bitten by a Smith

Burning the Ships was Best Case Scenario

Cáno⁵

Casaremírë

Celegorm and Curufin Didn't Intend for Finrod to Die

Celegorm the Fair

Celegorm the Horse Girl

Cormahto

Crablor: Hobo Hermit Crab

Crablor: The Molt

Crabs and Spiders are Related

Crack AU: Mahtan the Dwarf

Crack Au: The Teleri are Bad Shipwrights

Crack Theory: Finrod Doesn't Exist

Curvo Makes Bombs

Dagor Dagorath - Fortunate Son

Darkness or Just Trauma?

Deneþor

Disposable Shields

Doriath Character Rating - Thingollo, Melian, Lúthien, Dior, Eluréd, Elurín, Elwing

Doriath is the British Museum

Dramborleg

Ecthelion and Lindir AU

Elrond, Elros, and Their Parent

Elven Aging

Elwë and Finwë (ft. Olwë)

Elwing Forgave Maeðros and Maglor. Eventually. (Bonus Eärendil.)

Eöl and the Poisoned Spear

Eöl Haunts Middle Earth

"Earning" Silmarils

Exploding Elwë

Everlasting Darkness is a Nameless Thing

Everlasting Darkness is a Yeti Crab

Fanboy Gandalf

Favorite Quenyan Words

Fëanárion Glorfindel

Fëanárion Mourning Traditions

Fëanáro and Names (Sons)

Fëanáro and the Atani

Fëanárions Aren't Greedy

Fëanáro in the Silmarilli

Fëanáro is an Elf Mary Tudor

Fëanáro is NOT a Creep

Fëanáro isn't in Mandos

Fëanáro Made Ringil

Fëanáro, Maeglin, and Darkness

Fëanáro Punched a Hole in a Wall

Fëanáro vs Nolofinwë: Best Grandchild

Fëanáro's Adoption Scheme

Fëanáro's Colors

Fingolfin's Corpse

Fíriel

FMA and Tolkien

For a Better Poetic Narrative

"For the Greater Good"

Give Galadriel a Decent Character Arc

Give Maeðros a Crossbow

"Give me a hand."

Hide and Seek- Námo and Náro Edition

Hot Eöl Take

House of Finwë's Chomping Children

House of Finwë Timeline

I found Maglor and Daeron

I Refuse to Believe the Valar Wouldn't Have Gotten Involved Without the Silmaril

If They Were Dead First

If Tyelco Had Been There

Imladris is the Best

Imladris Learned

It's Always What You Can't Have

Kit Preferences - Fëanárions

Kit Preferences - Nolofinwions

Like Father, Like Son

Lúthien the Powerful

Masterlist

[gondolinweek]

HEAR YE! HEAR YE!

Note: This will be the last early details revealed before we unveil the individual scenarios for our daily prompts.

May 14th Feast of Summer Turgon, Idril, Eärendil

May 15th Ceremony of Silence Aredhel, Maeglin, Rog

May 16th Songs of Sunrise Ecthelion, Salgant

May 17th Dance of Daylight Duilin, Egalmoth, Penlod

May 18th Tales of Triumph Galdor, Glorfindel, Pengolodh

May 19th Parade of Passage Tuor, Voronwë

May 20th Freedom of Summer FREE

While we cannot stop you from using this information to begin creating your works (and, in fact, encourage you to), we would ask that you consider using tumblr's scheduling feature to post your works. Regarding works posted in the AO3 archive, the collection will be moderated throughout the event, and works will be revealed once Gondolin Week begins on May 14th.

[tiutale]

"Galdor hand me that-no the-woukd you let me finish and stop grabbing random objects!" Glorfindel's amused voice barely made it through the din of the hall. Galdor laughed holsing his hands up in defeat.

The Main Hall was bustling with elves of every House Lord to cook to chamber elf helping get things ready for mid winter.

Egalmoth walked passed the two shaking his head. Arms laden with strings of flowering plants. Rog's booming voice cut through the laughing cries of Ecthelion as his ladder once more was bumped by a rushing elf. An elf who colored at Rog's admonsihment to be careful and apologized in deep bows to Ecthelion.

Turgon grinned at Idril as they both set up the tables near the east wall. Where the prizes for later games would be held.

"Galdor! Are you going to hand me that or simply play with it?!"

Galdor grinned and tossed it up to the menacing vanya. "One would think over the years we would find a way to decorate with less chaos." Setting his hands on another string and bracket he glanced up and moved to steady the ladder Glorfindel was on. "There now. Do not overstretch or you will spill yourself into my boxes here."

Glorfindel grinned down at him. "I have never fallen from-"

A shout and crash across the Hall cut off his words. Laughter errupted soon after and chaos of a less organised scene began to ensue. Rog's vouce cut through the din as both Glorfindel and Galdor watched with worry and amusement.

Ecthelion dangled from the wall he had been decorating holding to a sconce that thankfully held no torch. The ladder he had been on was lying several feet away with an elf half beneath it. Fabric was wrapped about both and two others were trying to figure out where the elf, ladder, and fabric could be seperated.

Rog was shaking his head. His smile was wide enough to tell no one had been injured. Egalmoth stood just to the right of Echthelion calling up to him what he said the two Lords could not hear.

Turgon and Idril were laughing off near another table.

"Should we assist?" Glorfindel asked a little worried that no one had tried to help their friend down just yet. "Ee do have a usable ladder."

Galdor pretended to think over the scenario. "Do we wish to endanger our ladder? They have proven untrustworthy of such a tool. "

Glorfindel laughed climbing down from his perch. "Then we shall have to surpervise them as one should do with errant elflings playing with tools they ate not grown enough to use."

Togethe they carried their ladder over to the other Lords and made short work of rescuing the dangling Ecthelion. A break had been called until the chaos had settled once more.

Midwinter in Gondolin alwaya proved to be something to remember. This year was proving to be one above all tha would remain in their minds for some time.

[bretwalda-lamnguin]

Denethor and Saruman are implied to have interacted multiple times by Tolkien, and I think there are some very interesting possibilities here. In ROTK Denethor says Saruman has visited Minas Tirith to use the archives, in the Palantiri essay Tolkien says the two likely had contact through their palantiri (with profit to Denethor!) In the appendices it says that Denethor and Thorongil (Aragorn) disagreed on only one thing, Thorongil encouraged Ecthelion to listen to Gandalf rather than Saruman (but does not say whether Denethor was advocating for Saruman or against wizards generally).

It's a fascinating scenario. Saruman who is known for his compelling voice, and Denethor who is known for being stubborn and difficult to deceive. Were they ever friends? Did Saruman attempt to exert influence over Denethor? Was he successful or was he rejected?

The thought of Denethor being Saruman's pupil is very intriguing. Not only for the betrayal of Saruman coming to support Sauron, who Denethor would rather die than bow to, feeding Denethor's feelings of isolation, but also for how it relates to Faramir and his relationship to Gandalf. The master betraying the cause the pupil stays loyal to is also an interesting idea.

And the first time they encountered each other through the palantir? Saruman must know he has been caught doing something he shouldn't. If it is before Saruman is ensnared by Sauron I can imagine Denethor scolding Saruman, warning him of the danger, Denethor has the right and the strength, Saruman does not.

If after, it may well be a stinging betrayal. There would be some catharsis though, Denethor has proved stronger and more determined than a wizard. Not just any wizard either, but the head of the Istari! But there is no joy in this. If Saruman is in league with Sauron he will act against Rohan, turning a war where the Gondorians have little chance and one ally to one where they are completely isolated and have no chance.

[magpiecaranthir]

Olwe as king of the Teleri being forced to welcome each ship of elves that sailed, and then one day that very last ship. And then it's just one very drunk king and one very drunk kinslayer. Elves probably also have a rule about harming/judging drunk people, so they can literally do nothing about Tinwe. Worst case scenario: Elrond is also there and ready to fake cry.

Scenario: they get SUPER FUCKING sloshed. Like cant even bother to know if its day or night sloshed.

Boat docks some late afternoon after days on sea. Quite a few people there bc who tf comes that late?? Ecthelion, obv. There, bc he's been quite hopeful tinwe would come to Aman at some point. Thranduil's wife and Legolas are there, too, bc if anyone were to come around that late it would be their husband/dad.

Everyone waits for someone to get off the boat. Nothing happens.

Awkward throat clearing. Nothing happens.

Ecthelion is Over It and marches on the boat to see Tinwe and Thranduil mumble about some random shit while nursing a huge flagon of wine. He picks her up and throws her over his shoulder. She never vomits so fuck it that will do.

Confused looks when thranduil's wife hauls him off the boat in much the same manner kings being manhandled yummy

"Wait wait," slurs Thranduil. Hands tinwe the flagon. She takes a huge gulp and gives back the bottle.

[deadqueernoldor]

Honestly just craving 4th age fluff with Tinwe and everyone right now.

We've one scenario we want for 4th age fic in any case, and its not a reunion thing so here's a little fluff scenario we've already planned but not properly written under the cut! (No problem spoilering that bc it doesnt really connect to anything else lol)

So, at some point tinwe goes to whatever city turgon and Finrod built together bc that's where ecthelion lives, still Lord of the Fountain.

Anyway, in our AU glorfindel already hs a son, right? But we're saying he's having another baby (which is hilarious given there's an age gap of like 7000 years between the siblings now).

Tinwe cant bring herself to live in the city permanently (yet) so she's just visiting and usually stays around Ecthelion's house and closeby areas.

One evening shes painting and glorfindel's baby escapes their minder while everyone is at some celebration or whatnot, and bc the house of the golden flower and house of the fountain are next to each other, the baby and its stuffie end up with tinwe.

It's late, she waited like an hour and nobody is coming to pick up the child (the minder is going apeshit but is confining only to house of Golden flower bc this is also the first time baby is climbing down stairs and they didnt know)

Anyway, tinwe knows its glorfindel's baby, so she just picks up the baby and brings them to ectheljon's house and makes them dinner and helps them wash their feet and hands (dirty baby running all barefoot heeh)

They end up in the same bed, and they quietly play with their respective stuffies like those are friends on an adventure

By the time glorfindel is back from the celebration with everyone else, the minder has combed the entire HoGF top to bottom twice, they figure maybe they found a way down the stairs.

They search the HoF and find tinwe and the baby asleep, both clutching their stuffies and leftover dinner still in the kitchen and a hand-written message on the table abt how "baby found tinwe and-" stopped by a smudge in child hand form hehe

[redbean-nom]

assuming both of them are just dropped into fight mode (so feanor doesn't have time to invent guns 10000 years early) within reasonable distance of each other - i'd say this depends on the specifics of the combatants. is it Random CT vs Random Sinda? Generic Trooper vs Generic Noldo Soldier? Cody vs Ecthelion? A-17 vs Maedhros?

the thing is, the average noldorin soldier is essentially a somewhat sturdier 13th-14th century knight and is generally very vulnerable to blaster fire. but then the power curve gets insanely steep once you hit the transition point in Background Extra -> Unnamed but Mentioned -> Named And Titled. so in short, in a battle between a Generic Background trooper vs Background Extra noldo, the guy with the plasma bolts probably wins. in a battle between a clone and a Named Elf, the elf in question has probably killed 20000 orcs and a share of balrogs and does not really care how heavily armed this random guy is.

average CT (phase 1 armor, dc-15) vs. average noldorin soldier (iron helm, hauberk, spear, sword, shield):

the clone wins. standard blasters should be able to get through durasteel-equivalent armor, since they can punch through entire droids. from there it's a simple matter of staying out of spearing range while shooting.

cody (phase 2 armor, dc-15) vs ecthelion (noldorin steel/mithril plate armor, spiked helm, shield, orcrist, silver flute):

definitely ecthelion. the range is less of a factor here since cody is decidedly more melee-inclined than the average clone, and additionally ecthelion's armor is essentially full beskar plate with a bonus shield, so not much that blasters can do there. cody's main non-blaster attacks are Knife and Kick, which is easily countered by ecthelion's Sword, Helmet Stab, and Grapple Kick. the main issue here is if cody happens to have detonators on hand; however, even gothmog couldn't do enough fire damage to stop ecthelion, and on top of that ecthelion can move/dodge a great deal faster than the droids the detonators were designed for. cody is getting stabbed, sorry.

17 (alpha arc armor, giant blaster, post-ventress but pre-grievous) vs Mae (noldorin steel/mithril plate armor, sword, post-thangorodrim pre-nirnaeth):

they whack each other to the point where any reasonable person should have been thoroughly dead an hour ago and decide to call it off because honestly i don't think either of these guys can be killed by anything but their own bad decisions.

Bonus round! Jango (beskar alloy armor, westar-34 x2, jetpack, jetpack rocket, flamethrower, a hundred different mini rockets, way too many belt pouches) vs Feanor (noldorin steel/mithril armor, sword, shield, anger)

they both die. sure, feanor has better armor but he is prone to making absolutely horrible decisions than get him nearly-to-entirely killed. he also cannot fly and is not immune to Jetpack Rocket. however, he does possess the unique ability to completely ignore the fact that by all rights, he should be dead immediately after getting whackamoled by every balrog in existence. most likely scenario here is jango flies up and gets feanor to the point where he should definitely be dead via blasters and rockets. feanor in turn does not realize this and manages to defy every law of life, death, and physics in order to decapitate jango. he then finally notices that he Should Be Dead and promptly bursts into flames with a dramatic speech.

Do you think a clone (star wars) could defeat a first age elf (silm)? Me and my girlfriend have an argument about that right now....

Well... the clone has a gun...

As far as I know the silm elves are not immune to blaster fire XD. Even though Feanaro might be able to develop armor with is and then the clone would be in trouble. Hm...

@redbean-nom as the expert, what do you think?

[awkwardkindatries]

D, F, and K for Ecthelion

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Whenever he masturbates he has a penitence for letting his mind wander off to many different individuals and scenarios, even if he’d never seriously consider them.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Kind of like a straight sitting doggy? Both of you up right on your knees, your back flush against his as he pushes and pulls you back and forth by the bend of your elbows.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I feel like he’d have an immense skill fucking kink, the idea of power that encompasses having his partner on their knees and he pistons his cock down their gullet, taking an uncomfortable amount of pride as he listens to them choke. His favorite part is the end, after he’s forced his seed down their throat and pulls himself free it’s followed by thick strings of saliva and cum that dribble down your chin having been blended together by his mistranslations.

[doodle-pops]

Us Against All Odds

Ecthelion x female! reader | Part 2

Request: A continuation of “Us Against All Odds” - Anon.

A/N: So, I wrote this second part as a continuation to complete the request with the theme of immortality and having children. I also know you sent a separate request to follow up on the first part but the topics deviated too much from the original request, so I could not include them. I chose to stick to what the original request was based on and continue. Apologies since it isn’t what you want as the second part, but I also hope you and others can enjoy what I’ve written.

Warnings: female (immortal) reader, pregnancy, childbirth (not described), a slice of domestic life, Thel panicking every five seconds, childish banter, humour, fluff

Words: 2.3k

Synopsis: As a new chapter of your life begins, Ecthelion finds it troubling to be on the same page as you when fear of complications looms in his mind. Luckily, you are always there to reassure him that you two can overcome anything life throws at you.

I recommend reading the first part as a refresher to understand the purpose of the second part: Part 1 | Part 2

He paced to the right of the room, then to the left, back to the right, and then to the left again. Looking like the walking dead, yet still, there was an air of beauty to his ethereality, he appeared like a madman. Mumbling and muttering in tongues unknown to man, and elves, in pitches and tones that gave the impression of an incantation being sited, Ecthelion dragged in solitude. His feet were fastened to the floor like a ball and chain attached to his ankle, languidly pacing and digging a trench only he alone was destined to patrol day and night. The one time he paused was when a long heave reverberated across the room, causing him to wonder if he should spiral into further madness or break out of his frenzy.

“If you keep up the theatrics but add tempo, you will soon dig yourself a trench or six feet under.” The sound of your laborious voice echoing across the distance he placed himself, resonated within a millisecond of his accurate hearing and almost goaded him into launching across the gap. Fortunately, your tired expression undermined by a look of disappointment prevented his figure from tumbling into your bedside. Instead, he remained at the foot of the bed with a single bead of sweat running down his temple.

The evident clicking of your tongue against the roof of your mouth, sunk him into further guilt. “Look at your appearance, Thel. You’re a mess!” you faintly laughed. “What happened to always looking your best no matter what comes your way? I remember the other Lords stating that even in the heat of battle your appearance was impeccable…”

As much as your statements were humorous, the underlying situation made it difficult for him to squeeze laughter out, even a single forced one. His best response was a pained expression as his fingers curled into the sheets. Conversely, it was you who was growing annoyed with each passing second at his lack of faith and confidence and his small dosage of pessimism.

“Thel, is it so hard to relax and have some confidence that everything will be fine? You’re on the verge of turning yourself into a living dead!” you amusedly laughed and still he had not found your joke funny. “Can you at least laugh at my sense of humour? You always told me that I was the funniest.”

“It’s not that easy having faith in a situation like this. I still cannot comprehend how you’re…nonchalant about all this!” he exasperatedly cried out, pushing himself away from the bed to stroll over to the window.

Ecthelion was fortunate to have missed the stare you cast at him from your side of the room. It slowly turned from disbelief and morphed into disappointment at how easily he was ready to give up at the begging and praying he spent a good portion of his yesteryears doing. Never mind all that, you were sure he could feel the heat pouring out your eyes the longer you stared at the back of his ebony head.

It was agonising watching your husband crumble away month by month as your life changed for the better. From exhilarating smiles to tight-lip smiles to concerning looks the more you changed before his eyes. You saw pride occasionally peeking out, but he was also questioning if the gift granted was truly there. You two hadn’t waited to see for yourselves if ageing had an effect on your body; you jumped right into the reason for desiring immortality, hence the reason for his fretting.

The entire twelve months were too perfect for him to believe it was granted that he despised the idea of desiring the truth during a crucial moment in both your lives.

Was he a horrible husband for thinking like that?

Pushing the air out your lips, it caught his attention in time to turn and observe as you wiggled on the bed into a somewhat comfortable position for the annoyance the giant bump was causing. Still within his right mind despite his turmoil and fear, he rushed over with a gentle smile to place another pillow under your back to alleviate you against the bed. Once he was finished, his hand lingered on your back before travelling to meet your bump and giving it a tender touch. At the same time, you reached your hand out to grip his wrist in a vacuum-sealed grip as a sudden strong wave of contract smacked you.

“I really thought I was built for this, but I’m being humbled by this pain left, right and centre,” you wheezed out.

Unfortunately, your loving husband, in all his might and glory kept misinterpreting your obvious signs. “Maybe having a baby was a bad idea if you were going to suffer all these pains your mortal body can’t handle—”

“Oh for Eru’s sake Thel, will you cut that out! I’m pregnant and in labour! Pain, pain and guess what, more pain! I’m birthing a baby!” you quipped and squeezed his hand tighter. “Any woman giving birth can tell you that’s all we’re experiencing. I just want this baby out of me as quickly as possible, I can’t stand this level of humility.”

“Were you not the one who begged to have children which led to me beseeching the Valar day and night to grant you immortality?”

Silence.

“Even though you’re immortal now, your body remains mortal with minor adjustments.”

Silence.

“Perhaps your mortal bod—”

“Thel please, if you mention anything about my body not being able to handle childbirth, I will fight you,” you cautioned with a point of your finger at his nose. “For the last time we agreed, I’m immortal. Eӧnwё showed up at our door bringing the message and you chose to celebrate in a manner that put me in this position. So, if you keep whining, I’ll have to hop out of this bed and show you how good a woman in labour can throw a fist at her seven-foot giant husband and not miss.”

This was one moment he could not resist providing a hearty laughter at. Boisterous and infectious indeed, as he clutched his stomach and shook his head at your fiery persona peeking out. “I must say, I do find that scenario rather preposterous given your small fists and their terrifying abilities to land a hit, vanimelda.”

“Laugh all you want; you’ll be amazed at how quick I am on my feet. Blink and you’ll miss me,” you muttered through closed eyes and tried timed breathing as the contractions were becoming ungodly and unnecessarily overbearing. It was becoming difficult to keep up with your breathing pattern the way the contractions were knocking you out of orbit.

Growing concerned at your tone, his laughter ceased as he leaned into your side, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Melda, speak to me. Where are you right now?”

Finding the effort to squeeze out wheezing laughter, with your eyes shut tightly as you grimaced against the rising pain, you to the opportunity to continue the humour. “Do you want honesty or a metaphor? Because I feel like my legs are no longer attached to my body  and I’m buried under a pile of rocks.”

“I’ll go get the midwife then. Just stay here, don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

“Where do you expect me to go, Thel? On a walk?”

Rushing out of the room and almost stumbling into a stool near the door, he was surprised when he stuck his head out the door and saw the gathering of his servants standing outside. They were anxious just like him for the birth of the newest member of the household and their Lady. Alongside his servants, he noticed the familiar garments of the ladies who were to assist with his wife’s birth and waved his hand frantically at them to call the midwife and gather in the room.

Within seconds, your chamber was bustling with bodies roaming up and down, carrying towels and basins of hot water. You were situated at the centre of the room while Ecthelion found himself braced between a table and wardrobe while he looked on at how everyone swamped your petite body. He didn’t want to admit it, but as time drew nearer to delivery, his anxiety flared, leading him to straightforwardly watch. His mind screamed at him to bridge the gap, yet his body remained frozen in time.

Had it not been for the midwife who gave him a gentle touch to his arm, he would have remained in the corner the entire time.

“Come, My Lord, your Lady needs the support of her husband in such life-changing moments,” she cooed with compassion as she led him over to your bedside. “Be her anchor.”

The external touch of guidance and the sweaty look of relief from you were all it took before he grasped your hands to walk through the pain with you. To Ecthelion, what felt like hours was only half an hour of your stomach-dropping cries, screams, and for the first time ever, bone-crushing squeezes he barely managed to survive. He swore he was in the middle of war all over again. But alas, his fear was overcome the moment a loud cry rippled through the air, silencing your screams and turning them into coos.

Ecthelion watched in astonishment as the product of his undying love for you was placed on your chest and began cooing the moment of recognition seeped in.

His son. Your son. Your little bundle of joy.

All he could do was stare as you cooed at your little one, speaking to him while he already displayed signs of hearing his mother. The voice he hadn’t heard since he came out of the womb, was the mighty voice of his father he spent the last twelve months becoming familiar with.

“Well aren’t you going to say ‘hello’ to your son?” you questioned while beads of perspiration continued to roll down your face. To Ecthelion, you were the most beautiful.

Feeling the build-up of tears as his throat ceased up, his first reaction was to throw himself at you and bury his face into your neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you for staying alive and surviving! I don’t know what I would do without you! Y–…You…” His sobs easily raked throughout his body as he clung to your figure, pouring out his fear and replacing it with gratitude, acceptance and admiration. You fought the battle courageously and won while also defeating his nervousness.

“Thel,” you called sweetly, “I know you were terrified and I sympathised with you, but it’s over now. You can look to a bluer sky now and share it with us.”

“Us,” he replied muffled before lifting his head out your neck to look at you lovingly before meeting the curled-up baby on your chest. His hand trembled as it reached out to swipe the matted hair and he marvelled at the small grunts produced. He dipped his finger into his son’s balled-up fist and fumbled when his entire hand was wrapped around his finger. “Us. Just the three of us. Thank you for blessing my life with your entire presence, melda. Thank you and I am sorry for being doubtful.”

“I would love to take all the credit because I know I am that good, but eh, you did your part. So be proud of yourself as well.” Leaning your head closer to his, he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours.

“I would. I mean, just look at our son; he’s full of vitality already!” he expressed and held the finger that still had his son’s hand attached to it. “And he’s handsome like his father.”

“Alright, I think that’s enough compliments for today,” you muttered while casting a side eye and prying your little one’s hand away from his father’s finger so you could hand him to the ladies to be cleaned off.

Scoffing with an eye roll, Ecthelion drew his head back and counteracted. “Jealous already that he took after me instead of you?”

“Ha, ha. You’re jester all of a sudden?” you mocked. “Why don’t you make yourself useful by making something to eat. I’m hungry.”

At the end of your words, there was a dreadful silence as all the jokes came to a halt. No snide comments or snarky remarks, not even a raspy intake of breath. It was as though no one was at your side anymore. Without wasting an ounce of your anger, you channelled disappointment once more. “You disappoint me, Thel. You genuinely disappoint me.”

“Melda, please. You must understand—”

“You mean to tell me that I wasted my mortal lifespan, unsure of whether I would become immortal, teaching you how to make my favourite dishes just for you to forget the moment I become immortal?!” Baffled by the absurdity, you could barely stand to look him in the eye.

“Okay, now you are overreacting,” he stated without fuss.

“Then make me fried chicken without burning it,” you retaliated.

Pausing at the relentless behaviour, he squinted his eyes before whispering, “Now you’re being complicated.”

Without missing a beat, you countered with a whisper of, “Then make me an elven husband who doesn’t forget my lessons when I was a mortal.”

Dramatically freezing to glare at you through his unnecessarily long lashes, he rose off his knees, accepting defeat. “Well played. I shall be in the kitchen making you a meal if you ever need me, my love. I take my leave.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster

[tolkien-feels]

Ahhh for the character ask game, Glorfindel or Ecthelion? Or Turgon? Honesty anyone from Gondolin that you have Thoughts™️ about

I was emoting about Turgon on my own a few days ago so I'll go with him. (I also...... Just generally love him a lot......)

one aspect about them i love: It's almost unfair to say this because I know it's a byproduct of how much we know about him, but I really enjoy his complexity! So many Silm characters have one-note personalities that require extensive scholarship, but Turgon has like, a symphony personality, if I can invent this phrase lol

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: There's literally no scenario in which Turgon can be both High King of the Noldor and King of Gondolin successfully. He has to prioritize one of these things, almost by definition. While I (admittedly having no head for politics) find all the discussions about this fascinating, I think they should be done with the understanding that Turgon was in a very difficult position where every decision is always going to be the lesser of two evils, not the greater of two goods or a only-one-right-choice situation

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: When he was younger, he was every bit as stubborn as his siblings. But after losing his wife, he's developed a tendency to value loved ones even above his own wisdom. This means that he learns to compromise (good!) but also that sometimes he goes along with plans he knows are unlikely to end well (bad!) so who's to say if that's a character upgrade or downgrade

one character i love seeing them interact with: Aredhel. I know they don't share a lot of screentime (so to speak) but the little we see is just great! It has both conflict and love and that's catnip for me

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: Fingon. I feel like we don't know nearly as much about them as you'd think given their importance! Fanon for them is great, but I do wish we had more canon to work with

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: I don't know how this isn't a running gag in the fandom: Turgon and Finrod's beloved baby sisters are born on the same year. Plot twist, Turgon and Finrod don't get along because they're wise, it's because they share a bond forged by gushing about sisters who are growing up so fast and are so perfect and fair and bold and and and and

[welcomingdisaster]

@nelyoslegalteam >:3

this is such a fun question and such a fun scenario and i'm delighted by it. the way i was planning it out right, this did not happen until fairly late in the story -- turgon leaves immediately, basically just "ecthelion's in charge, give the crown to my daughter, bye guys." he cannot lose one more person and if there's any change at all he can save his brother he's taking it

meanwhile maedhros is both farther away, distance-wise, and trying to account for his own brothers post battle (we know that all the feanorians that had fought had been injured!). i also think he does not get the news and details of what happened as quickly.

soo he is going on the rescue mission (and, most likely, maglor is coming with him, because maglor is not letting his brother leave to go to the enemy alone again), but it's going to take him a fair while longer than it takes turgon.

actually, one of the few scenes i picture super vividly is the scene where they do meet up. i'm super into the idea of these two, both terrifying in their own right, kicking an insane amount of ass together. what's scarier than one extremely tall elven swordsman with the light of valinor in his eyes and nothing to lose? two extremely tall elven swordsmen with the light of valinor in their eyes and nothing to lose!

only barely related but i have also. had the temptation to somehow involve morwen in this, because hurin is captured also, but tbh i haven't found a way to justify it, so that stays in the "well, it would be fun but it is entirely unrealistic" realm

Tell us about 'self indulgent nirnaeth au planning'? so what if it's never actually written... those thoughts deserve to be heard!

ahh thank you for asking about this! <3 it's self indulgent passion projects hours!! the basic premise is "fingon gets captured alongside hurin instead of being killed at the nirnaeth." it straddles the line between "fix it" and "break it" in a way that is very fun to me.

the main problem is that my brain is swiss cheese and i'm very very bad at keeping track of timelines and my concept here involves things going majorly off the rails extremely quickly, with turgon immediately going to save his brother gwindor-and-gelmir style, leaving idril as high regent of the noldor (arguably things for gondolin end up playing out a lot better!), intense feanorian drama about loyalty, debts, and common sense, etc etc

i think to write it properly i need to re-read the source material, take a ton of notes, and make a visual storyline for the project on my corkboard like some kind of psycho in a movie (this is how i handle large plots). but i have not had the brain energy for this, yet, so the project is mostly a lot of cool scenes that vaguely string together with many many canon mistakes and an uncertain resolution.

maybe someday!! i have fun with it, at least.

[rarepairnation]

5, 8, 12, 15, 33, and 34! <3333

YAYY thank u jamie for all of these <333

5. quote one of your fics out of context

A memory, to an architect, is a prison, a haunting, a noose.

from two shadows burning out a glory day, my bizarre inception/bond crossover fic. its very close to my heart it was kind of my first. idk if i can say non-conventional fic but it kind of is. like conceptually and narratively Weird. something that messes with the reader's head.

8. share the last line that you wrote

oh BOY. im trying to ease back into writing after the wackass week i've had but something seized me and i AM up at 3am picking away at umbar fic. but its time for bed because i have work and also i just thesaurused "retreat." when i start looking up synonyms of VERY simple words its a sign the night is over.

[his father] would give him every honour, and would that not mean he would accord him every accompanying sin?

hehehehe the thorongil-ecthelion-denethor dynamic IS absolutely in the air. its funny because right before this denethor basically curses thorongil out for daring to bring up His Damn Father when they're making out. yeah its pretty insensitive. but it leads him here and from MY perspective the introspection is yummy. don't think of elephants or whatever.

12. what fandom do you want to write for most often

hmm i feel like. my answer is just whatever im? hyperfixating on at the moment? when i get in there i REALLY get in there. but maybe pacific rim. it just lives at a low simmer in the back of my mind at all times but it's also the hardest to bang something quick out for because it is one of, if not THE most emotionally fraught for me to deal with. its just. well its a lot of grief. and also a lot of times my style becomes very um. Particular. because of my personal headcanons about how drifting fucks with your head and how that kind of comes across in the prose. and i gotta be in the right headspace for All That.

15. what fic of yours would you most like to rewrite

honestly i'm not sure if? any of them? i saw a quotation once about only having been able to write certain things at certain points in your life and i really believe that. current me could not produce a lot of my old stuff at all. there's small parts of many things i might change but not complete rewrites, and i also want to preserve them in their posted form for posterity. e.g. there's parts of dreamlike, and yet no dream that i would want to tweak to match my current Denethor And Faramir complexities (it's missing a Little of the nuance. and the terrible pity that i think faramir ends up feeling for his father) but i would NOT want to completely rewrite it. i'm scrolling through my ao3 and like. yeah. and i do think that after maybe 2020 it really begins to stand the test of time and most of my prior stuff i don't have a strong enough attachment to really want to rework. i leave it up entirely for archival purposes.

33. which of your fic titles is your favourite?

i really like five year plan for the afternoon. i honestly really like most of my titles i’ve probably mentioned i think really hard when im choosing them and i hope it shows in the match between the title and the energy/themes of the fic. but i DID create this one from my own mind (rare) and i feel like it really gave the energy of like. having the future you never thought you would have because you've spent your whole life fighting an impossible fight thinking you would die trying...and getting to not have to have a plan for the future not because you think you won't have one but because you just have all the time in the world.......wow.

35. have you ever written a fic because you were inspired by a title?

hmm. not really. i do have some inspired-by-songs ones (talked about those here) that eventually ended up with corresponding lyric titles but it doesn't really work the reverse way. i mostly will hear a lyric and create a Scenario rather than a title

fic writer asks

[goldenglorfindel]

If it came to that, could you kill Ecthelion for a greater cause?

“What a horrible question! What in the world would make anyone ask such a thing?” 

He frowned, genuinely puzzled as to why anyone would think to approach him with that, although he soon sighed deeply, knowing after so many years of seeing every kind of person under the sun that some were simply the type to enjoy needling others.

“I can’t think of a possible scenario which would warrant me killing anyone, including Ecthelion, unless they were aiming to kill other innocents themselves and there were no other option. even with orcs and such I don’t kill just for the sake of it.”

[lordofthegoldenflower]

😉💦

😉 What are my muse’s fetishes/kinks? : Fin absolutely loves to be restrained (tied up, handcuffed, etc), and for his partner to have complete control. Even the mere thought of it makes him hard.

💦 At what age did my muse lose their virginity? : In the modern verse he lost his virginity at 18. In the main verse it was after he had reached majority. (Fun fact: I’ve never pinned down exactly when in the main verse because I’ve never been asked before. The mun’s favorite scenario is that he pines after Ecthelion for years until they finally have sex as lords of Gondolin)

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

Two names- Erestor and Ecthelion!

Erestor. Please I Uh, let us just go with Ecthelion, because there are less chances for heartbreak me to be yelled at and hit by wayward objects in that scenario.