#elderly elves
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Finished up Elder Othreloth! He received some nice new earrings, scars, a beard with custom beads (the details are too small to even see lol,) and some ceremonial ash-paint.
I even gave him a fancy robe (with gold embroidery that reflects light a little) with decorative Chaurus wing cape
So fancy.
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the lore on tolkien elf biology is very...
if you know, you know.
#but i'll ramble about it in tags anyway#uh so i was refreshing on bearded elves#AND! APPARENTLY!#ANY ELF CAN GROW A BEARD???#they just need to survive into their “third life cycle” apparently#unless you're mahtan (an elf of premature beard growth)#supposedly thingol [aged like a mortal] as he watched luthien “wither” [get old] as a human so#there's likely a version of thingol that has a beard#probs the same thingol who fathered daeron#BUT ANYWAY#i don't think christopher tolkien explicitly clarified that beard growth was restricted to [elderly] MALE elves#i kind of want to doodle third age indis with a dramatically long beard now??#the khazad grow out their beards for aesthetic: elves apparently grow them by being both Sad and Old As Heck#my mind is blown by this revelation#it changes my perception of third age maglor#he's still a depressing beach cryptid getting harassed by seagulls#he's just got a beard now#but this post was ACTUALLY inspired by#uh#just about everything else in tolkien gateway's page on tolkien elf biology#i knew about the victim blaming rhetoric RE: elven sexuality#i knew that the whole valarin years vs solar years thing isn't addressed (the stuff of displaced & unfinished drafts)#but i'd genuinely forgotten how genuinely (obliviously) offensive mid20th century men could be??#there was victim blaming & slutshaming & casual sexism & rigid comphet & little to no room left for difference#another example of why it's important to recognise where i mark Death Of The Author#how far am i willing to trust an author? how much can i excuse or justify?#how willing am i to do the work of “resolving” a setting's lore with itself?#do i care enough to write an author out of their own plot holes?#and at what point do i throw canon out entirely?#even a few years ago i would have struggled with these questions because of the pedestals i placed many of my favourite artists on
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I made a mod that gives Calcelmo a Dwemer robot arm and monocle
What is the stupidest mod you have installed in Skyrim? I'll go first.
A mod which makes snowberries 3D because I cannot stand that those damn things are like Paper Mario in 2D.
#someday i will finish and release elderly elves#i also made a mod that turns m'aiq into an alfiq but it's not active in my LO right now#skyrim
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I have never had a normal thought since I realised Aragorn/Estel would have been around 10 years old — more like 7/8 considering his heritage — when Thorin's Company passes through Rivendell, so here are some brainrot headcanons (continued under the cut):
Estel is obsessed with Thorin. Just completely obsessed. Follows him around everywhere like a cat, begs him to play with him, offers to run errands for him. Literally every elf in Rivendell is completely stunned at the behaviour because Estel is, normally, a card-carrying ankle-biter.
The Dwarves, on the other hand, are shocked by the fact that by a few days into the visit, Thorin seems to like Estel too. Gloin would have sworn that he expected Thorin to throw the child off the banisters the minute he made him hold his pet python. Thorin didn't just hold said snake, but played with him, let him do little odd jobs, even letting him sit up with him at the dining halls. On two evenings, he even takes Estel out with a wooden sword, to show him how to "fight like a Dwarf lord". All the Dwarves are just as shook as the elves, minus Kili and Fili, who knew Thorin as Uncle Thorin and are completely unsurprised that he is so wonderful with little Estel.
Lindir and Elrond find a content python snoozing in Elrond's study. Lindir and Elrond are both utterly and irrationally terrified of snakes. After much screaming and climbing on sofas, every member of staff swears Estel had been in his mother's quarters all day. Nobody thinks to mention that they saw Bilbo and Thorin hanging about outside the study, because what relevance could that possibly have?
When the company left Rivendell, Estel was understandably quite unhappy because he'd miss them, also they were going to see a dragon, and he begged to go with them. Thorin does what most parents do before going on a trip, and promises to bring him a present from the dragon's lair when they returned.
Bilbo returns without Thorin, but with the promised present for Estel. He visits the boy in his quarters and they hold each other and share their grief. Bilbo then shows him the present. He explains how Thorin wanted to give him something more substantial than a golden cup scraped off the floor of a dragon's lair — he had told Bilbo, the night before the battle, to give the boy Thorin's own solid gold wristband.
On the same return trip, Elrond expressed his condolences over Thorin's death, and enquired if there were other casualties. When he finds out that Kili and Fili had also died in the battle, a strange, terrible expression twisted across his face and he said, almost reflexively, both? both together? good. that's good. The remaining Dwarves and Bilbo were all stunned, thinking it was Elvish apathy at best, and deliberate disrespect at worst. After all, they had no reason to know that Elrond, like his immortal brethren, found it somewhat difficult to gauge the ages of mortal beings — and had thought the two late brothers were twins.
Decades later on the night before the Fellowship were set to depart, the elderly Bilbo Baggins found it hard to sleep from worry, and wandered onto the balcony, and saw a lone man practicing sword moves in the courtyard. He realises both man and combat style seem faintly familiar, like the heavy striding and swinging and slashing are the steps to an old dance he once used to know, which now lives in a deep, forgotten place within him, under layers of unravelling memories. He can't quite put his finger on it. But there is a strange comfort in the sight, so soothing Bilbo's eyes start to close, falling asleep curled up right there on the balcony. He slips off into a wonderful old dream, lulled by the rhythm of fallen leaves crunching in the courtyard — where Aragorn "fights like a dwarf", solid gold wristband twinkling under the light of the stars.
#I'm so sorry...#lord of the rings#the hobbit#bagginshield#thorin oakenshield#elrond peredhel#Aragorn#Lotr#Lotr headcanons
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a quick note on elven maturity
all right. time for another lore dump, brought to you by a big DnD fangirl.
so i see a lot of conversation around Astarion's age at the time of being turned (39 years old) and how, in DnD, that would make him a "child." this comes from rules and lore that state that elves can live to be about 750 years old (or older) and are considered adults at 100 years old. and i can absolutely see why that is confusing, but let me break it down a bit.
Elves reach physical maturity at the same age as humans, but after that point, their aging slows down tremendously. a 39 year old elf may be "considered a child" but has the physical maturity of a human in their 20s and mental maturity of a 39 year old human.
so let's talk about that "considered a child" business. this might be cleared up by adding the caveat "by other elves" at the end.
the distinction of "childhood" is cultural. because elves live so long, they see those under the age of 100 as youthful. think about it: if you had seen five hundred years of shit, you'd think an 80 year old was a sweet summer child, too. hell, i'm in my 30s and sometimes it's hard not to look at people in their early 20s as "kids" because we're just in such different places in our lives, even though they are legally adults.
even in the real world, maturity and adulthood are seen differently across cultures. different countries have different drinking ages, different ages for driving cars, different ages of consent. those standards may seem odd to an outsider, used to their own cultural norms, but every community is different.
elves don't just see other elves under age 100 as children. they see other races this way as well. high elves tend to view humans as immature - even in their old age - because 80 years to them is nothing.
i was a legal adult at 18, but 18 year old me didn't know half the shit 33 year old me does. and i'm sure 45 year old me will think 33 year old me was "young" by comparison.
now, i've seen some takes that Astarion might be lying about being a magistrate because he was "a child" and why would they make a child a magistrate? that argument might hold up in an elven dominated city, but Baldur's Gate is mostly human. by human standards, Astarion had the same mental capacity as any other 39 year old man.
Astarion, at age 39, may have been seen as a "child" by other high elves, but this isn't literal. it merely means he had yet to reach a major cultural milestone of a very, very long lived race. a milestone even the most elderly of humans likely will never reach.
would you call an 80 year old human a child? no. but a high elf very well might see them that way. not in the physical sense, but in a "oh to be young and naive and know less of the world than I do" sense. the way that we all inevitably look at those a decade younger than us, even though they are adults, and see their youth in comparison to our own.
it's 5am here and i'm babbling. the point is, the "child" bit of elven lore in DnD is confusing, i get it. but it's purely cultural. in Baldur's Gate, a city primarily run by humans, Astarion was not seen as a child by most. he was a grown man. he had the mental maturity of a 39 year old man. the only people who would have seen him as a child are other, older high elves (mostly those who grew up in a place like Evermeet) and maybe elders of other races - even humans - who were like "oh, to be 39 again!" (lol, me the day i turn 40 probably.)
tl;dr elves in dnd are not LITERALLY children until they turn 100. it's an elven culture thing, similar to how in real life different cultures have different standards for things like driving, drinking, joining the army, and age of consent.
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it's thematically significant that shadowheart is a half-elf actually. half-elves and their families live a life of loss. your human parent dies first. you will probably die before your elf parent, who has to see their partner and their children die. and YET they all still decide to live this life because it's worth it. like, shar probably HATES this.
in shadowheart's case... she has been with the sharrans for 40 years. it's still quite young for a half-elf. but for her mother? 40 years - imprisoned and tortured, no less - it's almost a LIFETIME. at best emmeline is in her mid-60s. but she could very well be ten years older. she's old. and traumatized and probably physically disabled after decades of sharran torture. it's a miracle she's still alive. one day you're young with a toddler, and the next day you're elderly and about to die. and she acknowledges it perfectly:
and yet:
emmeline hallowleaf IS a symbol of loss. she will leave this world, soon. and yet she's a beacon of light and teaches her family to NOT fear loss. to not fear HER, or her absence. she teaches them hope. arnell says it:
like, even without shar's influence, one could be very sad and angry at fate for being born a half-elf. one could fear dying before their elf partner. and in spite of everything emmeline and arnell married, and in spite of everything shadowheart wanted to see them again, even if it meant not seeing her mother for long. their family is not just a selûnite family - it's the opposite of everything shar stands for. this is why she needed a selûnite child to break.
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My Purpose || Aragorn
Summary: Request - Can you do a Aragorn x Female Reader where she’s from earth not middle earth? Like the modern reader in middle earth trope? Reader dies in an accident of some sort and wakes up in a field in Rivendell. It’s right before everyone is gathering for the Council of Elrond... Read Rest Here
A/N: LOVED writing this one. Aragorn is just... the best. This one got away from me, as usual. Thank you for the requests!! Hope you like this as much as I loved writing this :) Love a good modern girl in middle earth trope!
Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader
Word Count: 7.5k +
TW: swords, blades, training, homesickness
It still didn’t seem real. The vast valley with flowing waterfalls where the light seemed to hit perfectly. Standing out on the balcony of the room you were given for however long you were permitted to stay you watched as the city ebbed and flowed throughout the day. You had no idea how long you sat there watching from the mansion of the home of the elf-man that had found you for you had no idea how to tell time here. You’d either lost you phone or the elves had taken it from you. The thought of actual elves sent shivers down your spine. It had only been a few days since you’d woken up in this place that definitely wasn’t close to home. There wasn’t even electricity that you could tell, at least not in your room. It wasn’t that you weren’t given the opportunity to leave you just didn’t want to. These elves were terribly intimidating, so beautiful and even the children seemed to stand taller than you.
Nobody had so much bothered you other than Elrond coming to check in on you a few times throughout each day with food in his hand each time. It wasn’t until the fourth day that he came without it.
“Miss Y/N.” He spoke at the open door leading to the balcony. He had tried knocking at the door a few times. He was more concerned than anything when you didn’t answer for it had become a sort of a routine at this point for him to greet you at your door. You never really wanted him to come in further, so you never invited him in.
You jumped slightly in your stupor being interrupted by your usual companion, “Lord Elrond. I’m sorry. I was just watching, didn’t hear you.”
He nodded before walking out to sit next to you on the bench you were already occupying, “Are you well? A friend of mine has told me you have been out here in a daze nearly all day.”
You turned your head to him with a small smile, “I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“What ever about?” He pressed. You had been fairly tight lipped about how you ended up here. It’s not like you wish you couldn’t tell him about how you got here you just didn’t know. You were… different. Your clothing was something he had never seen. You had called them jean pants and a polyester blouse. You might have been speaking an entirely different language. Regardless he had given you back you clothes plus some elven dress clothes that he had hemmed shorter fort you. He was pleasantly surprised that on the third day you were wearing the newly provided elven clothes to your strange human clothes.
“Home. The memories are starting to become harder to recall. It’s weird. It’s like they’re all fuzzy. I’m afraid…” You swallowed back a frightening wave of emotions as you spoke to the kind elderly elf, “I’m afraid I will forget it all. My mom and dad. My friends and family. What it was like… It was nothing like this.”
He grabbed for your fidgeting hand that was clearly in distress, “Tell me what you can recall. I will not forget. I will tell you of your own memories.” He bowed his head towards you letting you know his utmost sincerity at the request.
Giving him a sad smile, you gave into his request finally. It did you no good to hide it all away and seem to forget it completely. Then you may never make it home. Telling him was really you only option at this point, “I miss my mom the most. We never got along the best when I lived at home, but we’ve become close after I’ve left home for school. I was just hoping that if I never make it home that she had some sort of closure.” You sighed feeling the weight of reality setting in. You thought maybe you would just wake up int you bed one morning but that was certainly not happening.
He cocked his head to the side, “You went off for school? Tell me about your mother. What was she like?” He pressed knowing you would crave these memories should you forget them for some odd reason. You were a puzzle for Elrond. He couldn’t connect the dots.
“Only once you become an adult. Once you turn eighteen you can enter the workforce full time or go to advanced education called college or university.” You paused thinking further about his second question. Your mother. What was she like? She was remarkable, “My mom is an angel. She thinks of those she loves above all else. She taught me how to be a good human. How to be kind in the face of adversity. How to face challenges head on and with a smile on my face. She’s the reason I’m not sitting here crying every day. But the thoughts of not seeing her again… I knew it would happen one day just not so soon. Not before I got married and had kids and… I’m sorry I’m rambling.” You quieted down almost afraid to look into his eyes once more.
“You are lucky to have her. Do not give up. We have not talked to Gandalf. He has just arrived and wishes to speak to you. He’s been informed of your strange arrival.” Elrond spoke hoping it would be easy to persuade you to come with him outside your room in his home.
“Gandalf?” You asked. It sounded so familiar. His name so strange yet I come right to the forefront of your mind as if you’d heard it before when he spoke it.
Elrond nodded holding out his hand to you, “He is a wizard. If anybody should have answers it would be him.”
“A wizard?” You’d remembered Harry Potter, maybe he could whisk you home through some Floo powder or something of the sort.
Elrond nodded his head, “A very dear old friend of mine. He may have better knowledge than I on your situation. I have scoured all the libraries of Imladris and could find no such cases as yours.”
You took his hand letting him lead you through his home and out the back towards the gardens you’d come to know and love in your short stay thus far. You opened and closed your mouth a few times to continue the conversation between you and Elrond, but you could not find the words to ask the question you wanted. When you finally stopped you were greeted by exactly what you pictured a wizard to look like. He looked like Dumbledore. Your heart warmed in comfort as his eyes crinkled into a smile.
“Y/N, my dear. Elrond has told me so much about you. It’s lovely to meet you.” He walked over towards you making sure to greet the both of you. His eyes, however, never left you. He was all too curious of the mortal human girl not from middle earth Elrond had told him so little about.
You dipped your head in slight unease over the entire ordeal. You, indubitably, knew that you were the talk of the town but to hear it out loud sent your heart racing. Being the middle child growing up meant you spent your life hidden and out of the way. Overshadowed by your older siblings accomplishments and overlooked for your younger siblings needs. You kind of felt like you were just floating by until you had moved out and your relationship had grown drastically with your mom and siblings.
“Uhm, likewise. Sir wizard.” You gave him that shy smile where your head tilted to the side trying to read him.
A subtle chuckle emanated from the elderly man’s lips, “You may call me Gandalf, dear Y/N. Now, we don’t have too much time before the council joins this afternoon for a final decision to be made. Come sit, Lord Elrond will join us. Start from the beginning, do you remember the last time you were home?” He led you to the small table in the garden that was likely used for afternoon tea, not for conversations such of these.
You knew you’d have to tell your story all over again so you might as well get it over with, “It was cold. A really cold and miserable day in Indiana. Middle of winter. Lots of snow. Blizzard like conditions.” You sighed recounting your seemingly last minutes on earth. You’d concluded you had died but it was weird to say it out loud. To admit your defeat, “There was a really bad accident on the road home. Big pileup. I was able to stop my car in time but the people behind me were not able to. My car was pushed under a semi where I was trapped. I don’t remember much else other than panicking because I couldn’t get out… My car started making weird noises. I’m pretty sure my engine exploded from being crushed in a way it shouldn’t have. I’m pretty sure I died.” You frowned accepting your death. God, you hoped your family had closure. That they were okay.
Gandalf bobbed his head considering your story, “What is a car? A semi? An engine?” He needed help with your strange words he’d never heard of before. Surely this was proof enough that you were from nowhere near here.
You laughed more to yourself than at his lack of knowledge, “Cars are new in my world. We were using horses and carriages not even a hundred years ago. A car uses and engine to propel forward instead of a horse. It uses some sort of fuel and ignition to propel cranks and wheels forward making your car go forward. A car is just an enclosed carriage. And a truck is just a massive car to transport goods.”
He continued listening to you, “That sounds like an unpleasant death.”
You hummed in agreement, “For what it’s worth I don’t remember it hurting. Just waking up here in the middle of a field. I’m fortunate to have run into his sons and not something more sinister from the sounds of it.”
Gandalf ran his hands along his beard, “Fortunate or you were placed for a reason. Curious.” He paused giving you another once over before continuing, “Elrond speaks as if you know of this world even though you may not be from here?” The old wizard pressed as his eyes bore into yours even though you couldn’t quite meet his gaze completely.
You agreed with him, “Yes, some things seem familiar. Like I’ve seen things here before.”
Elrond finally spoke up, “Tell him what you told me the other night. When you first got here.”
You turned your head looking between the two males, “I asked if you were gathering to talk about the ring.”
“How do you know of the ring?” Gandalf looked between you and Elrond with a perplexed expression on his face.
You shook your head trying to recall but the memories were becoming fuzzy. The further your time away from home the harder it was becoming to recall memories from your time there, “I believe it was a story of some sort where I’m from. We have books as well and it was a book written for entertainment.”
Gandalf eyed you before turning his attention to Elrond, “You must keep Y/N in your home. If you are correct and the fellowship is formed later we may need your knowledge before we partake on the quest. Even after.” The wizard’s eyes flashed with a newfound hope having you show up the most opportune of time. The more he thought about it the less curious you become. You were becoming more and more so seemingly a gift from Eru Ilúvatar himself.
Elrond bowed his head in acceptance of Gandalf’s decree, “How are your quarters now Lady Y/N? You may have an extended stay. I can move you to a different spot in the house if you would like.”
“That’s not necessary. The room is great.” You gave him a genuine smile and thumbs up before turning back to Gandalf, “But what about home? Lord Elrond said you may be able to get me home?” You asked with the same hope you seemed to give him.
But his frown told you all that you needed to know, “My child. You had died on your home. You have been given another chance. Likely because we prayed for you and you passed on too early in your own life.” He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze from his seat next to you.
Your eyes drifted down in that sadness you had been holding back. You knew that was somehow going to be the answer, but it still didn’t sting any less actually hearing it from him, “So I’m stuck here?” The question came out closer
Elrond took the liberty of grabbing for your hand trying to provide any sort of comfort, “You get to live out the rest of your life here.” Gandalf nodded knowing that was exactly what you didn’t want to hear.
“Can you tell me if my family got closure? They know I’ve passed?” You asked feeling squeezing Elrond’s hand right back, thankful he had given you that small amount of comfort. It had been days since you’ve had physical contact with anyone or anything. You thought you hated it but man did you miss it. You craved it.
The wizard gave you solemn shake of his head, “For that I cannot be certain young one. But I can be certain that you have been put here for a reason. You have been given another chance. I would not waste it.” Gandalf rose giving you and Elrond a bow before walking away, “I must take to conversation with Boromir before this afternoon. I shall see you in due time.” He waved more towards Elrond than you leaving you that much more confused than when you had started.
Your eyes upturned to Lord Elrond still holding your hand from the seat next to yours. His kind brown eyes had turned sympathetic in the news Gandalf had given you. All he could do was offer his own kindness to the ever out of place human girl giving him a crushed look, “You are more than welcome to stay here in Rivendell. Most of the residents and my children have decided to set sail as the time has come.”
“Thank you.” Giving him a small smile that hardly reached your cheeks you let the news consume you. You were quiet as he led you back to your room. Your official room now that you had zero plans of getting out of here. At least it was easily the most beautiful place you had ever seen.
“Lunch will be soon. Shall I bring you a plate or would you care to join me in the halls this time?” He asked pressing his luck once he had dropped you back off in your room.
“A plate is fine. Thank you again Elrond. I’d like to think on my own for a bit if you do not mind.”
“As you wish.” He bowed before gliding off. He sent one more concerned look before you shut yourself out from the elven world. Damn. You were stuck in a place called middle earth. Who would’ve thought this could’ve been your life?
You found yourself in the same gardens later that night after your handmaiden had brought you dinner. Flush with emotions you found yourself crying and not being able to stop once you’d found a somewhat secluded spot hidden away.
“Excuse me miss? Are you all right?” A man had asked breaking you out of your own head full of thoughts and tears. Your sniffles must have drawn the dark-haired strangers attention to your quiet corner that nobody had seemed to bother you in, until now.
You turned seeing that handsome man you had spotted a few times since the Council of Elrond had begun. You were all too curious what they discussed for hours on end, but it had to have been critical so many seemingly important people to gather to discuss matters. Wiping away your tears with the sleeves of the elven dress all you could do was nod rapidly, “I am okay. Just terribly overwhelmed is all.”
He cocked his head to the side looking you over, “You speak differently than any human woman I have talked to. You must be the mortal girl Elrond has spoken of?” You did not have the height nor the ears to be an elf he concluded. But, you certainly had the beauty to rival an elf. Aragorn was quite taken aback at your doe-eyed expression on his even though your eyes were blood-shot from the many tears you had spilt.
Letting out a laugh you could only agree with him, “If only you know how weird you sound to me too. But yes, I am.” You confirmed by meeting your eyes with his icy blue ones. You pushed back your rushing thoughts of just how stunning this stranger was. Everybody here in this middle earth seemed otherworldly. Beautiful beyond belief. A far cry from your home however far away it was.
His eyes roamed over you for the first time up close. He had seen you sitting on the balcony from Elrond’s residence a few times in the few days he’d arrived. But this was the first he’d seen the other worldly girl up close and personal. Elrond made no mention of your simple beauty. Your big, beautiful eyes laced in a red stain from the tears you’d been clearly crying made his heart twist unexpectantly.
He too was in the process of grieving a loss of his own. His Arwen, his first love, had taken to sailing away. Truly, he had no idea what she would choose in the end and chose the best for herself and her family. He could never blame her, no. He pushed her to go do exactly that. He would always have love in his heart for the ellith he could never have. How blissful were the few years he got to spend with her… they were everything and more. But she had to go. Elrond, her father, pushed her off a few months ago and that was that for him. He was no stranger to the sadness in your expression.
“Dare I ask why?” The man walked towards you stopping just shy. Closer than any of the other elves or man had dared to step to you. Other than Lord Elrond, your healer, and Ioanoa, your handmaiden, assigned to you by the lord for the time being.
His eyes looked innocent enough. Might as well tell him as you really didn’t have anything to lose anymore. You’ve already lost it all, “I am forgetting everything of my home. I barely remember my mom’s face now. I’m worried I’ll forget it all. I have to accept that this is my new life. I just… I never got to say goodbye. I can’t remember everyone anymore, but I know I had people I loved, I just feel it.”
He contemplated what to say for a moment as he had never come across a situation so complex as yours before. He did not know what to tell you. He could never fathom your situation. Essentially dying in your own reality to wake up in something so different only to forget where you came from? Aragorn shuddered at the thought. He might’ve even gone mad at the thought.
“Fear not. They will not forget you. They will always be looking for you or have thoughts of you. You may forget the fine details of them, but you will never forget of them and their love. Like you said, you can feel it.” He placed a hand over his heart praying his words offered you some sort of comfort.
You looked down wiping the fresh tears away, “What if they do forget me?”
He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder drawing your eyes back up to him, “From what I hear it sounds like your mother had much love for you. As long as she walks in her world she will have love for you. As long as you walk in middle earth you will have love for her.” Aragorn was nervous as he met your eyes once more. He felt relief wash over him as you kept his gaze and gave him a gentle smile. You weren’t mad, not in the slightest. You looked relieved at his words.
“Thank you, sir.” You had yet to get or catch his name. You’d learned of a few of the other members through Elrond’s stories, but he had yet to come up. He seemed to be human. You couldn’t spot anything that made him stand out as anything other than. But who new in this middle earth.
He returned your soft smile with one of his own, “Aragorn is my name.”
“Thank you, Aragorn. Mine is Y/N.” His eyes remained on yours as you couldn’t keep ahold of his gaze. He was daunting in the best way. Handsome beyond belief. Words of advice more than you can dream of. Smarter than any man on earth you’d had to converse with. You’d been talking to him for less than thirty minutes, yet you had deduced he was the entire package. The first man you’d met on this planet was far better than any man on your earth.
He nodded taking a seat at the bench you were previously occupying, “Would it be rude of me to say that I already knew of that? You have been quite the discussion amongst the fellowship and council.”
You continued to stand there unsure of if you should join him or not. Would it be weird if you just stood there? Would it be weird to sit on the already small bench with him? Thankfully he must have seen your dilemma as he patted the seat next to you, inviting you to sit next to him. Trying not to make things more awkward for yourself you obliged sitting down next to him before continuing the conversation, “You all talk about me?”
He broke out into a cheeky grin, “Aye. You are most of the conversation. We cannot figure you out.”
Oh, was that all this was? He was simply trying to figure you out? That deflated whatever hope you had right then and there, “There’s not much to figure out. I’m a girl not meant to be here.” The tone of your voice came out more bitterly than it had prior sending Aragorn on edge. Had he said something?
“Indeed. That’s the perplexing part. Why are you here?” He asked more to himself than to you. A question nobody could seem to answer for a sure fact.
You shrugged, “Has to be by mistake.”
He shook his head, “I do not believe so. Nothing happens by chance here. The Valar have placed you here for a reason. We may not know now but we will soon figure it out.”
You let out a soft laugh, “How different your world is than mine.” Failing to elaborate you just looked ahead longing for your home. It was lovely here, but it wasn’t home. Even though you forgot most of what made home, home. You still longed for something you couldn’t completely remember.
“What do you miss the most of your home?” He asked hoping that talking about it would help take your mind away from the sadness that seemed to be overcoming you. Talking to you was helping him immensely. He had no idea how heavy the council’s discussions had been plus the loss of his love was weighing heavily on him. But talking to you seemed to help even if he didn’t even realize it.
“I think it’s my family and friends. As boring and monotonous my life was my family and friends were just down the road or a drive away.” You frowned having a sinking feeling you’d never see you best friend or brother again. You’d never get to tell your mom and dad how much you loved them.
He nodded, “I live a very… nomadic life. I understand the heaviness your heart undergoes. My love, she left not too long ago. I have been wandering ever since she set sail.” Aragorn admitted to you. It came out all too easily. You had admitted what was making you sad it felt too natural to do the same. He wanted to be vulnerable with you. So different from how he felt with nearly everyone since Arwen had left.
You felt your heart pounding in your chest. You felt guilty for talking about you when his heart was hurting just as much as yours, “I’m so sorry. I have never truly been in love. I can’t imagine how that feels. I hope it gets easier for you.”
“Talking to you helps, my lady.” He smiled grabbing for your hand hesitantly. When you didn’t pull away he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “You are a great mystery, fascinating beyond belief, seemingly selfless and kinder than the day is long. As sad as you are I hope that you can find the beauty in middle earth too.”
“That’s very kind of you, thank you.” You looked away sure that there was a blush coating your cheeks, “I do find it beautiful here. Your world is not polluted like mine is. The air is fresh, the animals are plentiful, the water is safe. It is like an old version of a world that humans have not destroyed.”
He frowned, “Just humans?”
“Yep. There are no elves or dwarves or hobbits where I’m from. There are no evil monsters or magic or any kind, that I know of. Just humans and a polluted world.” You hummed missing your messy home.
He looked at your warily, “I will not lie, that sounds miserable miss Y/N.”
You laughed, your hand was still sitting in his comfortably, “We know no different. It is rather boring compared to all of this.”
He cracked a more genuine smile than you had seen from him yet, “You are honest. Be careful.”
You sighed, “Here too?”
“Bad people take advantage of good ones.” He nodded his head solemnly, “You are fine in Rivendell though. The elves will treat you well, as a novelty.”
You scrunched your eyes trying to figure out why, “Why? Because I’m a human?”
“Your entire lifetime is less time than it takes for them to mature to adulthood. There is nothing that anyone here could want from you other than to learn about mortality.”
You blinked at him, “Are elves immortal?”
He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Indeed.”
“Oh, wow.” You gulped at the knowledge.
“In fact, humans have the shortest span among sentient creatures in middle earth.” He said as if you weren’t already a little more than freaked out by the new revelation of the home you had been invited too earlier in the day.
Considering his words you continued along, “Makes you feel a little useless.”
He continued looking at you as you got vulnerable with him in turn, “On the positive side, nothing you can do can’t be undone. It cannot be messed up too severely.”
Your smile reached your eyes for the first time since you’d landed in middle-earth thanks to this handsome man, “I like your optimism Aragorn.”
He reached for your hand like Elrond had earlier giving it a soft squeeze, “I heard the news of your guidance from Gandalf. I am sorry your life on your earth was cut short to be here. But I am thankful for the gift we have been given. I am sure you have heard of the formation of the fellowship by now. It will be but a few fortnights before we depart as we prepare. I hope to see you soon before we are set to depart.” He spoke as he knew the journey to Mordor would be long and deadly.
“I am planning to attempt to pick up a sword here tomorrow with Elladan as a teacher here tomorrow at sunrise. If Elrond doesn’t have you busy then maybe you would care to join us?” You invited him taking any chance at the opportunity to spend time with him.
He bowed his head slowly at you, “I will see to it. Until then, lady Y/N it has been a pleasure talking with you this evening.” He stood pulling you up with him, “I trust that you can make it back to your chambers on your own?” He looked around hesitantly knowing it was perfectly safe here in Rivendell. Likely safer than anywhere on your home earth considering the elves were guarding it.
“I can. Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.” You waved as he walked away. As much as you tried you couldn’t erase the silly little smile that crossed your face as you walked back to your room.
Aragorn was not there when you and Elladan began to train. Nobody had informed you how downright exhausting it was to hold a sword, defend yourself and attack all at the same time. You’d never felt so damn weak before as you worked up a sweat within minutes of beginning the session ordered by Elrond. Lord Elrond was going to see through on his promise to Gandalf. He was going to keep you safe. Who knew how you fit into the puzzle of destroying the ring and saving middle earth? Keeping you safe meant making sure meant knowing how to wield a weapon.
“Not bad, keep your eyes moving though. Someone could sneak up right beside you and strike.” You heard that same voice from last night. He kept true to his word by placing a dull blade against your rib cage. One more move and he could slice into your side if he wasn’t careful. But you had the feeling he was being more than careful.
You took the opportunity to rest and lowered the heavy blade you’d been sparring Elladan with and turned to the taller human male next to you, “Spare me. This is the first time I’ve picked one of these up.” You motioned to the dull blade meant for sparring, “These are heavier than they look.”
“You are faring quite well for it being the first time you picked up a blade.” Elladan smiled taking a few steps back seeing the way Aragorn was watching you. It was the same way he had watched over his sister after they had professed a love for one another. A spark that had vanished after Arwen left nearly half a year ago. Yet here you were. A human girl not even born under the Valar, hand-picked by Eru Ilúvatar to be here, giving Aragorn a hope that he so desperately needed before this quest.
You laughed after catching your breath, “You are just being nice. I’m an out of shape mess.”
Elladan took a few more steps back while shrugging his shoulders, “You’re a natural then, my lady. Forgive me. I must go. I see my father calling. I see that Aragorn can continue your lessons?”
You being none the wiser simply shrugged looking between the two of them who had funny expressions written on their faces as you waited for his answer, “I do not see Lord Elrond summoning you.” Aragorn raised his eyebrows challenging the ellon as he knew what Elladan was playing at. For he might have been accused by the twins for harboring a liking towards you after the few interactions he actually had. Aragorn, naturally, refuted it as he hadn’t even properly talked to you until last night. But even he knew that sentiment was growing truer the more he spent time with you. The weird speaking mortal girl from a different world.
Elladan offered a soft chuckle, “He’s already retreated. Need not worry Aragorn. You’ll take it from here?” He asked this time before actually walking away.
“Aye, Elladan. I’ll take it from here.” He waved him off before turning to you, “Why don’t we start you with a blade more suitable to your size?” He asked before leading you off towards the equipment area.
“Are you calling me weak Mr. Aragorn?” You grinned feeling suddenly giddy you’d gotten him alone twice in such a short period of time. Your mood was rubbing off on your attitude. Even though you were already tired, sweaty, and felt gross you were thrilled for the sudden change of instructor.
He shook his head quickly while searching for something smaller for you, “Nay my lady. The blade you were yielding is far too big for you. We just need to find you something more in line with your arms. For a blade is but an extension of your arm.” You watched as he sorted through the different blades lining the walls before pulling one that hadn’t been used in some time down, “This will do quite nice for you.” He handed it to you for you to get a feel for.
It was far lighter in your hands as you held it and swished the air quietly in front of you, “You were right. This is very nice.”
He grinned seeing you able to hold the blade far easier than you had the man-made sword that was far heavier than an elf-made on you were holding, “Keep that with you. Elrond will want to see that later. I think he’ll get a laugh at who used to own that particular sword.”
“Used to?” You questioned placing the lighter blade in a sheath at your hip.
His eyes crossed with an unfamiliar emotion as he nodded his head, “Indeed. Elves take nothing with them when they sail to the Undying Lands.”
You just looked at him with confusion in your eyes, “I’m going to need you to elaborate on this Undying Lands place.”
He sighed knowing you were clueless when it came to middle earth and its customs, but it didn’t make the thought of where Arwen was off living any less painful. Not that it was your fault for asking, “It is where most immortals go when they are called. After their lives on middle earth are complete. Most elves go. My Arwen was called not too long ago.” He added knowing he didn’t need to. But he wanted to. Something about you made him feel comfortable enough to delve deeper with you.
“I’m sorry she could not stay with you.”
“I am too.” He smiled to you knowing just talking about it with you was healing for him as well, “But it is for the best. She does not fit into this world any longer.”
You walked with him back out to the training fields that were slowly getting busier with random groups of different elves alike training and practicing, “Can I tell you my thoughts?” You asked him after a long while of comfortable silence between the two of you.
“Always, my lady.” He pulled his own training sword out of its own sheath waiting for your next words carefully.
You mimicked his actions, “That sounds like a miserably long life. At least where I’m from. That would be so tiring.”
He held his sword up waiting for you to mimic him, “I must agree. It makes sense why they take yearlong breaks then, no?” Aragorn laughed as he watched you more easily following along to his stances and postures.
“I’d still like to take a yearlong break.” You admitted earning another beautiful laugh from the handsome man that was becoming more of a friend than a stranger. The rest of the morning went as such. Aragorn showing you a few moves before he had your try it out in practice on him. Elladan wasn’t lying, you had a natural skill with the blade. A few of your maneuvers caught him off guard for you being so new, nothing he couldn’t deflect. But your potential was there.
As he walked you back to Lord Elrond’s residence he decided to break the growing comfortable silence that seemed to occur more often than not in your presence, “You did well today, Lady Y/N. You are very much a natural with the blade.” He complimented you as you got closer to the residences front doors where he knew he would have drop you off. Surely your handmaiden would be there waiting to take you off to your next venture. He’d watched as you started as a cooped up and frightened girl who opted to stay in your chambers rather than show her face but in the week he had been here he had seen you slowly open up to the outside world after you’d seen it could cause you no harm.
Your heart rate sped up at his words. You spun on your heals once you made it to the door, “Thank you Aragorn. I had a wonderful instructor who showed me the way.” You giggled seeing a small blush rise to his cheeks at your kind words.
Aragorn was right that he would have to give you at the doorway, but he wasn’t expecting a usually busy Lord Elrond to be waiting, “There you are. You said you’d be back before lunch. It is nearly dinner.” He knew you were in perfectly capable hands being with Aragorn. He asked more to tease his friend more so than scold you. For it was not only his sons who had noticed his growing affections towards you, but Elrond had noticed as well. He’d missed nearly an entire day’s worth of meetings to train you. But Elrond also had the utmost faith in the future king to be making the right decisions. If that meant spending the day with the beautiful mortal girl then that’s what he was going to do.
You looked down in embarrassment for being called out on your tardiness so forthright, “Ah, my apologies. We got carried away with the lessons.” You patted your side letting him know you had quite literally been training for the last ten hours.
Lord Elrond smiled at the both of you, “I am sure Aragorn had his reasons. Now come, we are already late for dinner.” He pulled you inside where you only could wave to him before Elrond had closed the door after bidding his own goodbye. Elrond gave you a wicked smirk as he led you down to the dining room on the other side of his residence.
“What’s that look for?” You asked trying to play off your absence as training and nothing more, that’s all it was, right?
“No reason. None at all. Nothing to do with Master Aragorn.” He grinned letting you through the door before him.
“It was training!” You tried to defend yourself before the twins barged in on your conversation.
Elladan scoffed at the table, “Hardly. You couldn’t wait to push e
You gave him an exasperated look, “You were the one who ran away!”
“I could no longer stand the longing looks between the two humans.” Elladan smiled knowing he was changing the story to fit his narrative better.
“Oh whatever.” You grumbled grabbing for the salad that sat in the middle of the table earning a round of laughs from all the elves who had happily taken you into their home.
You walked into the hall that contained the sword that eliminated Sauron the first time, Isildur’s blade. And there he was, the man that you had been looking for sitting there staring at the blade that clearly haunted him. He must have lost track of time thinking as he promised to continue training the next day, the day before leaving on the quest.
“Elrohir said I could find you here.” You spoke quietly hoping not to startle him.
He jumped slightly. His head turned to you giving you a bow, “I have been spending quite a bit of time in here.”
“Why’s that?” You asked, pressing.
He sighed, “Thinking. About the ring. The quest. The danger. The hobbits. All of it.” He admitted letting the weight of it crash, “My susceptibility to the ring.” He added as you stepped closer to him.
“But you are not him, Isildur. Lord Elrond told me all about him, he knew him! You are nothing like him Aragorn.” You gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before he shook you off gently.
That haunted look was still superimposed on his face, “It is his blood running through my veins as his did! Weak!” He sounded more upset than you had grown to see him in the few weeks you had gotten to know him.
“That’s untrue. You may have the same blood as him, but you are far from weak. You simply admitting that you are susceptible to its evils proves you to be anything but weak Aragorn. You are stronger than any man on my earth and any middle earth man I’ve come to know, although it’s not too many.” You laughed off the last bit hoping he would see his strength that had helped you grow further than you could’ve imagined in your short time here.
He looked at you with a new look as he heard your words. A look filled with adoration and love, “How do you know exactly what to say?” His eyes frantically searched your face as he realized your purpose being here was to help him as well. You were doing a flawless job at it. First with Arwen and now his insecurities surrounding the ring. How did you do it?
You smiled taking his hands in yours. Carefully, one by one, you snaked your fingers in between his before locking them down in your grip. You prayed it gave him some of the comfort he had given you over the last few weeks, “It’s easy with you.” It came out as more of whisper. You knew he had lingering feelings for the ellith he could no longer have. Why couldn’t you take her place?
You watched as he gulped. His eyes moved from your hands laced in between his, “Are you still searching for your purpose, my lady?” He asked as he took a daring step forward towards you. He heard as you breath got caught in your throat at his overly bold action.
You shook your head slowly, “I am not. I have found it.”
He nodded his head. Slowly he broke his hand away from yours. In place he brushed away the stray hairs that had been coated to your cheeks. The wind had displaced the stray hairs that blocked your view unknowingly. He relished in his touch on your warm, soft skin. He noticed the way your skin erupted in goosebumps under his touch, a physical reaction letting him know you felt the same way as he had. It had amazed him how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you over the short time he had known you. With Arwen it was slow and took years only to crush him in the end. But with you it was fast but steady. Quicker than he anticipated but it made sense to him.
“May I ask what it is, my lady?” He brushed his hand along your cheek enjoying the way you seemed to squirm under his touch.
You closed your eyes knowing you wouldn’t be able to take it back but what did you have to lose? He was leaving with most of your new friends anyway. Might as well lay it out on the line, “Helping the fellowship, trying to guide Gandalf, you. Many such purposes.”
He cracked that smile that you’d grown to find a great comfort in, “I was hoping you may say that.” He didn’t dare drop his hand as he let his large hand cup your face. Your eyes fluttered closed as his pointer finger rubbed back and forth underneath your ear. It was like a form of kryptonite you did not know you had, “You know I must guide Frodo on this quest. But I can promise you that I will come back as soon as I can to you. For you are my purpose too, Lady Y/N.” He grinned loving the way that you seemed to melt right into his touch. As heartbroken as he felt from the loss of Arwen it did feel like you were sent here to mend his wounds right on up. He was not kidding. He found a purpose in you. His purpose.
Your eyes opened up looking into his once more, fully letting yourself fall into his touch, “My purpose.” You nuzzled your head into his calloused hand that had seen more battles than you could ever even imagine. For as difficult as your transition was into an entirely different world he had made it that much easier. You’d found it. He was it. Your purpose.
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now that this fic is all published, I can ramble about the things that happen afterward in the timeline! Feel SO free to ask about anything you want more details of.
First off, all three posts about Dave the Balrog are 100% canon to this au, except for where they sometimes contradict the fic's worldbuilding or plot bc I hadn't settled on every detail yet. Also, Dave’s name is probably more like “Drav”, from the Sindarin “drava-”, “to hew.”
That happens much later, though - about 1980 TA. FIRST, immediately, as Celebrimbor says: it's time to save the orcs!
That is, wildly self-indulgent crossover with @ceescedasticity's fic(verse) elves, once, which isn't 100% my headcanon for orcs but it's essentially canon for this au because it makes everything VERY FUNNY in a tragic irony way. I've thought about this so much that it really deserves its own bullet-point post, but highlights include:
- Annatar attempts to conceal the fact that Curufin and Celegorm are orcs, and, y'know, have been since they died. This works until Celebrimbor identifies a bunch of the orc army's weapons as made by his father, even if the style is strange and fell, and the two of the have a HUGE fight in front of representatives of every Elvish kingdom in Middle Earth and most of an army of orcs.
- Bellow/Turgon is having the single strangest, most uncomfortable road trip of his life, and he counts the crossing of the Helcaraxë in that total.
- Turgon tries to convince Galadriel to take Celebrían and Elrond and get out of here, because inevitably this must be a cruel trick and all the orcs will be forced to turn on all the Elves. Galadriel is like, "Honestly, I've been watching Celebrimbor's slow corruption and Sauron's slower un-corruption for about 2,000 years now, and I think we actually have a shot at this. Also, bold of you to assume you can beat me in a fight."
- Curufin and Celegorm had BOOKED IT when Annatar's summoning-compulsion snapped, on the reasonable assumption that any plan the Dark Lord had for them + Celebrimbor could only be cruel to the extreme...so Celebrimbor and Annatar go on a bonus road trip to retrieve them.
- Everyone meets up by the Sea again, but instead of taking (or, obeying) the offer of escape into Ulmo's hands, Turgon and probably a bunch of other orcs volunteer to come help break the Crucible. They Deserve This.
- In the end, as usual, the day is ultimately saved - as are the souls of thousands of trapped elves - by the power of love and overwhelming violence.
AND THEN...
Celebrimbor & Annatar don't actually rebuild Ost-in-Edhil and Eregion as they were. Those days are over, and also the surviving Númenoreans kinda...regard Annatar as Absolute Evil, for some mysterious reason. And those who knew about the whole or even partial conspiracy - namely Tar-Miriel herself - aren't too keen on Celebrimbor, either.
They leave whoever wants to stay and rebuild in Eregion, leadership tbd based on the traditional system of craft-based meritocracy, and take a few decades off to lay low from geopolitics, work on their marriage, and for Celebrimbor to learn a little bit of necromancy so he can manipulate his own fëa and hröa, thank you very much.
They stay with the Witch-Queen of Calador for a while, discreetly because officially that kingdom is also not on good terms with its “former” evil-ish overlord. (The Witch-Queen of Calador and her not really sane, almost certainly unsafe, but arguably consensual relationship with Annatar really deserves her own post, too. She’s my favorite OC of this au. She really loves bats.)
Elrond & Celebrían get married! Elrond always knew his wedding would have to involve stopping drunken brawls from erupting between people who love him but hate each other, but he’d assumed it’d be Iathrim and Fëanorians, not an elderly Queen Miriel going for Annatar’s eyes with a butter knife.
Annatar regards the birth of Elrohir and Elladan with some concern, this alarming lineage now augmented by the blood of Arafinwë (cut off Melkor’s foot) and Galadriel (Melian’s pupil, hates him). But that’s nothing to how freaked out he is by Arwen, who is such an obvious Reprise of Lúthien that it’s now CLEAR that this was all a Melian scheme to assault him, personally.
He can’t just kill her now—Elrond and Galadriel and both right here, not to mention Celebrimbor. And then she’d absolutely be his enemy when she Returned… No, the only solution is to stay in Imladris for a while and become her most beloved uncle whom she would not dream of assaulting, whom she could not bring herself to injure even if circumstance and conscience forced her hand. Love has ever been the undoing of Melian’s line. The Reprise is obvious, but not so established that he cannot twist it into irony, Lúthien’s heir as his devoted student and companion rather than foe.
[smash cut to late 3rd Age Annatar watching the Music settle into place as Arwen interacts with the newest, currently toddling scion of the House of Elendil and nearly killing the child right then because no, no, thats not how this was supposed to Reprise—that’s his jewel of an elf-queen, Singer and trade-manipulator and niece, and he’s going to lose her forever? Killing the brat won’t even work, that would only make her follow him sooner, one way or another—]
Celebrimbor doesn’t want to build a city (and have his heart broken by the loss of the city) again, but he very much does want to ImproveThe World, and also to Make Things With His Hands. So he and Annatar, and whoever of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain wish to join them, set about… “Traveling” is too loose a term; just because they’re not city-building doesn’t mean anyone here wants to live on the road. They need workshops, forges, and ideally a maia-sized cat tree tall tower from which to survey their domain. They are a highly skilled work crew/technical, artistic & management consultants who change cities every 5-200 years, throughout Middle Earth and perhaps even other continents.
This what Celebrimbor and Annatar do, for most of the rest of their time in Middle Earth. A few of the Mírdain travel with them all the time. Others strike out on their own, or in similar small groups. Others stay in rebuilt Ost-in-Edhil, or Rivendell or the Havens or another Elvish kingdom, and come lend a hand when their particular talents are called for. Everyone who “died” in Númenor and was “resuscitated” by Annatar walked away with a strengthened, basically permanent osanwë connection to the simulated workshop group chat, which they’re aware of, and a location tracker and fëa-stamp saying “PROPERTY OF MAIRON, FUCK AROUND AND YOU WILL FIND OUT” which only an Ainu could detect.
They're the mysterious stranger(s) who accept an offer of hospitality on a stormy night and reward you with a magic ring that blesses your farm with fecundity. They arrive in a city in the middle of a cholera outbreak and inform the local rulers that they're here to overhaul the whole wells & sewers system in exchange for room and board; no, the local rulers do not get a choice in this. One time they do oust an evil ruling dynasty and just kinda take over the kingdom for a few centuries, but then Celebrimbor starts to get paranoid of his own growing attachment so Annatar reluctantly agrees to find and raise some honorable candidate for kingship [gender-neutral]. One of the Mírdain with them says, what about the choice of the people? And then after a lot of discussion, partly in collaboration with their local Men, they write up and seal with Power a Constitution that establishes an oversight body of political, economic, craft and etc. experts to oversee and have veto power over popular elections to kingship from a slate of candidates chosen by the current/soon-to-be previous king, on a strict thirty-year schedule. There, that should stabilize the whole messy business of mortal succession!
Also, 1300 years or so into the Third Age when this version of Gondor hits its equivalent of the Kin-Strife, Annatar takes advantage of its weakness to initiate a plan he's been contemplating for a while, especially while gaining local insight into a variety of nation-states and their management, and returns to Oroduin to forge what may he his last Great Work...a new standard of currency.
It’s called, in the common tongue developing from Adúnaic and Sindarin, the “mira”, pl. “miran”, from Quenya “mírë” (“jewel, precious thing). Where pettier currencies are based in gold or silver or the might of some particular empire, these hold value Because a Great Maia Said So—indeed, Sang So, Sang a new line into the Great Music that these coins would always have a value of…whatever he said so, if he updated a petty lyric or two of their Song. Those who use the coins don’t need to know this; they simply intuit, with coins in hand, what they are worth.
(You can lead even the mightiest empire by the nose if you control the price of grain alone, much less other commodities, or one currency relative to another. Each minute adjustment takes Power, especially to shift the natural balance of multiple interlocking goods…but Annatar is a master of the perfectly placed lever with which to shift the world.)
Maybe at some point the Valar are like, “okay, I think they don’t irrationally hate us anymore, I think this could work” and send a small group of Maiar to openly, humbly approach Annatar and Celebrimbor and ask if they might be apprentices in the craft of…whatever the fuck is happening here. Or maybe something adjacent, because Pallandro and Alatar would really like to fuck off into those excellent looking woods and hunt the remnants of Ungoliant’s spawn, and Radagast actually wandered away 5 minutes ago to talk to a bird. He’s gonna be a while. But Curumo and Olórin are listening politely!
…Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just the Jewelsmiths, slowly becoming folklore, bettering the world (and manipulating wide-scale economics) one stone at a time. (They’d still be the “Jewelsmiths” anyway, even if they included those who, in another universe, were called “The Wise.”)
As stated in the third Dave the Balrog post, they do Sail eventually, several centuries after Arwen’s death. Celebrimbor just gets tired, and Annatar can’t fix it. Ossë spends the whole voyage backstroking next to their ship and sarcastically quoting Annatar back at himself, Years of the Trees insults about being made weak and pathetic by love, until Annatar nearly lunges over the side as a wolf to tear his throat out.
#ride and fall#celebrimbor#annatar#sauron#silvergifting#my fic#second age shenaniganry#except technically it’s third age now
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waterdeep & the city's wards: castle ward - part 2
"The splendors that await you in Waterdeep are legendary. Each of the city’s wards is detailed in this work, telling you what to expect depending on where you are, as well as what thrilling things you might see and do."
[from: volo's waterdeep enchiridion]
waterdeep is divided into a system of wards and civic districts. the six recognized wards are:
dock ward
castle ward
north ward
sea ward
southern ward
trades ward
notable parts of the city that aren't considered wards are the city of the dead and deepwater harbour and its surrounding isles (deepwater isle and stormhaven island).
in this meta, i'd like to first focus on the castle ward of waterdeep. the ward contains blackstaff academy, the yawning portal, the undermountain as well as other important landmarks and locations.
castle ward
castle ward heraldry with a golden griffon
castle ward map made by reddit user ravenxalmasy
i'll include an ambience video to listen to while reading:
youtube
rainy streets of waterdeep by dungeon crawler audio
general information
in his waterdeep echiridion, volo introduces the castle ward as follows:
"The Castle Ward is the heart and mind of Waterdeep, if not its soul. It houses the city’s military forces, courts, government, and the Market — the largest market square of any city in the North. It encompasses the City Navy’s docks in the Great Harbor and all of Mount Waterdeep, and it is home to six walking statues, numerous temples, and many other landmarks."
i already wrote a meta including the walking statues of waterdeep in my the splendours of waterdeep meta.
the important landmarks volo further highlights are the following:
"Castle Waterdeep stands above the city on a great bluff that extends out from the mountain, its towers soaring hundreds of feet into the sky. It surprises many to learn that this isn’t where Waterdeep’s rulers reside, nor from where the city is governed. The castle was and is a redoubt of last defense should the city be attacked, but for well over a century, the ruler of Waterdeep has occupied the Palace of Waterdeep — also known as Piergeiron’s Palace, and still called that by elderly and long-lived citizens (including many elves). Though not quite as large as the castle, the palace is far more comfortable and lavishly decorated, with many halls used by government officials, guildmasters, and nobles for meetings and court proceedings. If you have reason to be invited (not compelled, I should hope!) to meet with the Masked Lords or the Open Lord of Waterdeep, it will likely take place in the audience chamber of the palace. There, you can witness the ancient and humble throne that Ahghairon first sat upon so long ago.
Many other buildings in the ward are given over to city business, including several courts for magisters and the barracks of the City Guard. So many of the ward’s structures are offices and meeting halls for business owners, solicitors, publishers, and the like that the Castle Ward has the smallest resident population of all the wards. Many landmarks of interest are found in this ward aside from the six walking statues (discussed later in this chapbook). You could hardly see them all in a day, but the following are highly recommended.
Blackstaff Tower is a squat black blot in the otherwise pretty ward. Humble though the edifice might be, looking at the place for too long can give you a queasy feeling and the sense that you are being watched — almost as if the tower itself has turned an unseen and wrathful eye upon you. Perhaps you think this fanciful. Well, go and try it yourself!
On the opposite end of the mountain, close to the Naval Harbor, stands Mirt’s Mansion. Once a fortress-like and glowering tower, it has been upgraded with more delicate fashions of architecture since the return of its long-absent owner. Mirt has quite a history with Durnan, the proprietor of the Yawning Portal. Together they descended into “the Well,” as the entrance to Undermountain was known in olden days. Waterdeep used to throw criminals in the Well, leaving them to die horribly in Undermountain’s dungeons. Durnan and Mirt entered the dungeons of their own free will — and not only that, but returned laden with treasures. Both used magic to extend their lives, but they eventually parted ways. Mirt kept on with a life of adventure, while Durnan built the tavern called the Yawning Portal over the Well and now, almost two centuries later, charges coin to descend into it. Not a bad way to part fools from their money!
The glorious Spires of the Morning, dedicated to Lathander, is one of Waterdeep’s most beautiful temples. But it is rivaled in this ward by the Temple of the Seldarine, dedicated to all the elf gods. The journey through Mount Melody Walk, a tunnel cut through Mount Waterdeep, to New Olamn’s academy of music and other arts is a wondrous daytime excursion. The Market offers a wild array of sights, smells, and sounds in which folk might lose themselves for a tenday. The Font of Knowledge is a temple to Oghma, yes, but also the city’s largest public library. Titles written throughout the ages can be viewed here — under the watchful eyes of the temple’s priests. In short (if I can claim this section of the enchiridion to be such), the Castle Ward offers far too many splendors to list them all here.
The Castle Ward’s colors are blue and purple, and its mascot is a griffon, typically depicted in gold. These borrow colors from the city’s flag and reference the Griffon Cavalry, of course. Champions for the ward often come from among the ranks of the Guard, the Navy, or the Cavalry. Although such competitors have often have the advantage in races and competitions, their crowds of rabidly cheering fans are naturally much smaller than those of other wards."
[from: volo's waterdeep enchiridion]
the description of the castle ward from waterdeep dragon heist reads as follows, echoing the stateliness of this ward in particular, with its many temples and sights of commerce:
"In terms of both geography and power, Castle Ward is the city's center. Most, if not all, of the city's administrative buildings are within the ward boundaries, from the lofty spires of Piergeiron's Palace to the low-slung crenelations of the guard smithy. While money and social standing are the prevalent benchmarks of might in the City of Splendors, Waterdeep's true power and what keeps it running are the Lords and Magisters here. If you like the taste of power and authority mixed with the usual commerce of the city, Castle Ward is the place to go. The city guard maintains a strong presence in Castle Ward due to the concentration of city officials and areas of importance in need of heavier security. Even so, the watch maintains much of the order, especially around the Market, the Palace, and the Castle Ward docks. Like the guard, the watch makes a show of force in Castle. Ward, traveling in larger patrols of six and brandishing short swords in addition to their normal rods and clubs. The ward boundaries are the southern side of Julthoon Street over to Shield Street and down to Trader's Way on the north, meeting up with the High Road and Snail Street for the eastern perimeter. Lackpurse Lane, Belnimbra's Street, Gut Alley, and Shesstra's Street combine in an uneven boundary to the south, whereas the mountain and the coastline form the western edges of the ward. While Castle Ward covers the most territory, Mount Waterdeep makes up a lot of empty land and the ward is effectively a little larger than Sea or North Ward."
"It is hard to pin down a "typical" architectural detail for Castle Ward, as there are so many different structures here that dominate the skyline. The city buildings, temples, and wizards towers are impressive stone structures, with the Palace and Castle in leagues of their own. Folk who quest for power but lack the funds to rise above the merchant class often dwell in the environs north of Waterdeep Way, their homes either well-kept row houses of three to four stories or individual homes of one or two stories. In either case, structures tend to be timber and wattle-and-daub with stone foundations nestled among the shops. The southern leg of the ward is primarily made up of barracks and warehouses attached to the castle and to various wealthier merchants and noble houses. The only discernible difference between Castle Ward's docks and Dock Ward are the heavier watch patrols. In terms of roads and byways, Castle Ward is by far the easiest ward to traverse due to the paving on many of its larger, primary roads. Even with heavy cart traffic on the roads, it is possible to travel from the Field of Triumph to Castle Waterdeep in the same time it takes to cover one-third of Dock Ward's docks. The paving is primarily for access by dignitaries and officials of the city and other foreign powers (and use during holidays for parades)."
[source: waterdeep dragon heist]
neighbourhoods of the castle ward
the neighbourhoods of the castle ward with notable landmarks and buildings are listed as follows:
The Market
Upmarket: Amberpaths, Cascades, The Cliffride, Elvarren's Lane, Head Lane, Highdrake, Melshar's Ride, Spireshadows, Tanthruil, Tchozal's Race, Toalar's Path
East Midcastle: The Buckle, The Catwind, Duir's Trod, Eldath's Alley, Elsambul's Lane, Goldstar Path, The Houndtwist, Lamp Courts, Lhestyn's Turn, Lhoril's Alley, Manyspells Court, Solemnar's Trod, Summerkeep, Sweetglade, The Waverise, Zeldan's Alley
West Midcastle: Alnether's Prowl, Asmach's Wind, Autumngleam, Blackstave, Cage Street, Cymbril's Trod, Dozenalley, Hippogriff Maze, Jester's Court, Marlar's Lane, Mulgomir's Way, North Swords, Siren Lane, Threeshields, Turnback Court
Piergeiron's Palace: Aghairon's Plaza, Fetlock Court, Piergeiron's Palace
Downcastle: Barracks Court, Castlefoot, Court of Gems, Glittergleam, Mountroot, Old Temple, Owlroost, Portal Lane, the Reach, Tarnished Silver
while the living conditions range from the very wretched to those wealthy and aristocratic.
landmarks and notable locations in the castle ward
there are many landmarks worth exploring in the castle ward. in this post, as well as the posts centered around the wards, i'll mainly focus on those important to gale's story:
blackstaff tower/academy
the yawning portal
promenade of the dark maiden (my own oc purposes and all those who have a drow tav or a tav that follows the dark maiden eilistraee)
i will still touch on other landsmarks and locations, but not as in depth.
blackstaff tower / academy
Gale: “A misadventure from my days as an apprentice at Blackstaff Academy. I was but a child, only a few months into my studies, but already I knew I was destined for greatness. No one believed me, of course, so I decided to prove it. To cast a spell with the Blackstaff itself. From one perspective, I succeeded. I opened a portal. However, instead of pointing it at the first year dormitory, I found myself pulled into limbo, facing a very irritated Death Slaad. Fortunately the Blackstaff himself came to the rescue, hauling me backwards from the brink, and straight into several months of writing lines. Or rather, finessing my autograph.”
[source: gale's dialogue after visiting the abandoned wizard tower in the underdark]
blackstaff tower concept art
the tower is described as a foreboding structure, made out of smooth black stone, with no apparent way to enter it, seemingly having no windows or doors. its main entrance was on swords street, while apprentices could gain access by touching the gate with a left palm. the tower itself was surrounded by a great wall (20 foot / 6 meters). [source: forgottenrealmswiki].
most notably, the tower also has the ability to magically repair itself, a process supported by laeral silverhand, one of the seven sisters and chosen of mystra.
more views of the interior of the tower, including the great staircase which connects the different levels of the tower, a reading room, an apothecary, the library and other interior structures:
the interior of blackstaff tower is also described as follows:
"From the inside, windows appeared to show what was going on outside, but these were illusions. The interior (but not the exterior) of the tower was warded against magical intrusion. The tower was protected against scrying magic. Rooms were connected to the central stairwell and entry hall, which was full of floating doors and arches. Many alcoves and shelves covered the walls of the stairwell, displaying magical items and artifacts, and although they seemed unprotected, a command word was needed to remove any of them. The items changed on a regular basis, so returning to the same stairwell on another day might result in seeing different items. Leaving the dormitories without issuing a command word would lead to the second level's stairwell. Saying the command word nhurlaen in the stairwell took one to the study. On the top floor of the tower was a study and a scrying chamber. There was also a parlor where Khelben displayed his art. In the library was one-way dimensional door to Candlekeep (the other side of the door led to Jester's Court nearby). As of 1374 DR, the tower's entry chamber contained a wardrobe that Khelben was able to use to access almost any closet in the tower. In the tower's kitchen, Khelben liked to serve cups of roasted chicory. Tunnels linked the tower's basement to Piergeiron's Palace and other locations in Waterdeep, which could be accessed by uttering the command word vhuarm. One such tunnel could be accessed at Northspur Rock on Northspur Landing on the Talltumble Stairs in Mountainside. [...] From the mid-to-late 14th century DR onward, the Tower was home not only to the Blackstaff, but to the Blackstaff's apprentices, which numbered fifty or so at any time. These apprentices, and their apprentices in turn, formed the Blackstaff Academy, an elite yet informal school for the training of wizards.
[source: forgottenrealmswiki]
the yawning portal
Gale: Believe it or not, but I witnessed a similar standoff back at the Yawning Portal. Of course, an establishment like that invites all sorts of outlandish entertainments. Player: What’s the Yawning Portal Gale: An inn in Waterdeep. Never a dull moment there. Adventurers come from all over Faerûn to try their luck down the well: Leads into the Undermountain, you see - full of death, danger, and vast amounts of treasure. Hard to resist. Player: What was the standoff about? Gale: Oh, a drow, a dragonborn, and a cleric of Cyric walk into a bar. Your standard fare. Maybe someone was cheating at cards, maybe it was some weird lovers’ quarrel. In any case, out came the crossbow, and a hush fell over the entire room.devnote Player: What happened next? Gale: I stood up and yelled: ‘Shadowdark ale for everyone!’ The crowd cheered, the tension drained into five dozen tankards, and soon all was well again. Gale: In a place like the Yawning Portal, the most powerful magic is calling for a round of drinks. Gale: Mind you, all I did was call for ale, but you went and stood in front of that crossbow. I’d drink to that.
[source: gale's dialogue after saving sazza the goblin]
concept art of the yawning portal [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
the yawning portal, which we know gale references once in the main game and once in the epilogue, implying that he's quite a frequent patron, is an infamous landmark in waterdeep:
The Yawning Portal was an inn and tavern in the city of Waterdeep that was renowned for being the primary open route into Undermountain. A well within its walls led down into the first level of the vast dungeon complex. It was owned and run by the famous adventurer Durnan the Wanderer. The name "Yawning Portal" referred to the deep well and also alluded to the habit of its patrons to tell wild stories. Naturally, the inn was a popular attraction among visitors to Waterdeep and a common point of departure as well as a refuge for expeditions into the extensive dungeons. [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
A well-known inn and tavern whose main feature is a massive well on the ground floor of the tavern, some 40 feet across, that descends 140 feet into the first level of Undermountain. There is a rope hoist that can be used to lower or raise those foolhardy enough to venture into Undermountain, at a cost of 1 gp per person. [source: waterdeep dragon heist]
layout and menu of the yawning portral [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
location of the yawning portral
The Yawning Portal was located on Rainrun Street in the upper part of Waterdeep's Castle Ward between Waterdeep Castle and Snail Street[ and close to Mount Waterdeep's eastern slope. Fronting onto the north side of the road, it stood next door to Mother Salinka's House of Pleasure, and beyond that, The Empty Keg tavern, on the west side, and next door Lankathla Dree's Bakery on the east side. Nearby also stood the magician Sobrey's Magic Shoppe and the smithy of Argali Smith. The inn's relative proximity to the city's docks helped it do good business. Its site was exactly that of the former Halaster's Hold, the demolished tower of the mad mage Halaster Blackcloak, the builder of Undermountain, and the inn was constructed over the well to Undermountain, which had previously been a place of execution, simply known as "the Well". [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
its exterior was made up out of mismatched fieldstone and a roof of "a steep-angled roof of unpainted dark-gray and black slate", giving it a rather drab appearance from the outside. the building had no windows on the ground floor, only on the upper floors, but it boasted several chimneys.
an old wooden sign, which was recovered and reused each time the inn was rebuilt, read simply "the yawning portal".
volo during a visit to the yawning portal [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
the yawning portal also boasts a host of rumours and legends, most recently, however, this:
Circa 1492 DR, a band of doppelgangers were rumored to operate out of the Yawning Portal. The Harpers and Emerald Enclave even sought people to investigate this.
the promenade of the dark maiden
"Eilistraee teaches us that we are not bound by the circumstances of our birth. We all may find beauty and light, if we have the courage to seek them." — Trelasarra Zuind
trelassara zuind, informal leader of the promenade since 1491 dr
the promenade of the dark maiden is located in the undermountain of waterdeep.
"The Promenade of the Dark Maiden was the most sacred temple to Eilistraee. It lay beneath Waterdeep, northeast of Skullport in Undermountain. The temple was composed of four major caverns. One cavern contained multiple buildings that were used as living quarters for the faithful. Another cavern named the Cavern of Song served as an open amphitheater used for songs and celebrations dedicated to Eilistraee. The third cavern consisted of living quarters for the priestesses. The fourth cavern was mostly occupied by the temple guards, storehouses, and armories. A large side cavern connected the Cavern of Song with Eilistraee's Mound. Within stood a large statue portraying the Dark Maiden (but actually modeled on Qilué Veladorn's appearance) and sculpted from a mound of rock. Next to the main temple was the Hall of Healing (a former temple of Moander that had been destroyed by worshipers of Tyr). This section was used as a place to shelter and tend to the temple's wounded and all those who were rescued by the Dark Ladies (including adventurers lost in the Undermountain). North of the Hall of Healing was a small cavern that was the destination of a one-way portal connecting to the sixth level of the Undermountain used to deliver wounded adventurers to the temple. Priestesses of the Promenade healed and welcomed any who came to the Hall, and were known to offer their friendship to (non-ill-intentioned) individuals of races who were more frequently than not met with prejudice and hostility." [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
the promenade held some influence in skullport and they had made it their mission to free slaves and adventurers that ran afoul the more powerful groups and bands within skullport. this earned them the nickname "slave shelterers" and they were regarded with animosity by those groups. other enemies were also worshippers of ghaunadaur (greater god of abominations, oozes and outcasts believed to be touched by the dark realms, and a part of the dark seldarine) as well as worshippers of lolth (most influential drow goddess, mother to eilistraee and vhaeraun) and vhaeraun (eilistraee's elder twin brother and part of the dark seldarine).
the dark promenade's history is defined by those friends and enemies:
the founder of the promenade qilué veladron, youngest of the seven sisters and chosen of mystra, was guided by eilistraee to extinguish the presence of ghanaudar. qilué was helped to victory by the dark maiden and mystra against ghanaudar. the battle took place within the undermountain (third-level). after her victory, eilistraee spoke to her:
"You must make a stand here close to the surface world, and you must be ever vigilant against the return of Ghaunadar. For a mighty city of humans shall rise above this place, and if you are to make peace with humankind and your elven kin of the surface world, this place is best suited for you."
qilué obeyed the words of her goddess, and she and other chosen of eilistraee patrolled these dark corridors (mockingly called promenades). during that time, the temple was being constructed, becoming habitable by 1357 dr.
the promenade had 392 habitants by 1375 dr.
the population of the promenade was severely diminished in 1370s, after an attack by followers of ghanaudar, nightshadows, followers of vhaeraun:
"In the 1370s DR, the Promenade was attacked by a new cult of Ghaunadaur. Nightshadows, former followers of Vhaeraun and later followers of the "Masked Lady" (following the death of Vhaeraun at Eilistraee's hand, and her taking on his portfolio), were sent to infiltrate various drow houses who worshiped Ghaunadaur, but this allowed the cultists to locate some portals leading to the temple. Taking advantage of this, the followers of the Elder Eye proceeded to attack, hoping to release the trapped avatar of their god. However, the glyph of insanity that Qilué had placed on the prison made many cultists go insane. Despite this, the assailants were supported by an army of slimes and decimated the population of the Promenade. In the fierce battle, almost all the Protectors of the Song and Darksong Knights were killed, along with many of the priestesses and of the followers who lived there or were visiting. The battle also caused the seals on Ghaunadaur's prison to break and his avatar to escape, even though it would be soon tricked into attaching itself to a fleeing Nightshadow. He sacrificed himself, going through a portal that led to "a plane of endless mazes" and dying in the process, to trap the avatar there." [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
after the second sundering, eilistraee returned and with that, she also breathed new life into the promenade:
"After returning, Eilistraee personally appeared under the walls of Waterdeep, leading many of her followers to travel to the city. Some of them found the support of Remallia Haventree and started creating a forest-temple, named The Dancing Haven, within Waterdeep itself. While originally meant to be created in the Field Ward of Waterdeep, due to the chaotic developments of that area, the Dancing Haven was temporarily moved to the North Ward. The Eilistraeens planted and grew a small grove of trees within an abandoned, roofless building, and then used it as a temple and base of operations. From there, the moondancers led a series of expeditions to cleanse, rebuild and resupply the Promenade. In the 1490s DR, a dozen priestesses, four novices, and nine lay guardians populated the temple; Trelasarra Zuind was their (informal) leader. Few knew of the restored Promenade (aside from followers of Eilistraee), but rumors regarding it restoration spread in Skullport." [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
by 1491 dr, the promenade would have around 25 inhabitants again, including trelassara zuind:
"After the restoration of the temple, Trelasarra, a dozen clerics of the Dark Maiden, four novices, and nine lay warriors moved there. They established a new base of operations, linked to the Dancing Haven in Waterdeep. The followers of Eilistraee tried to keep their presence a secret but, as rumors started spreading in the near and dangerous Skullport, Trelasarra opted to garrison the temple as if at war." [source: forgottenrealmswiki]
of course, the castle ward has many more locations of note to offer. the following list is taken from waterdeep dragon heist:
Rentals
Banderly Rooming House: A four-story boarding house kept by the Banderlys, two married women who pride themselves on providing good, clean, safe accommodations.
Fair Winds: Rental Villa
Heroes' Rest: Rental Villa, owned by House Melshimber
Marblehearth: Rental Villa
Sablehearth: Rental Townhouse (Northern Swords Street)
Sapphire House: Inn, Rooming House
Stormwatch: Rental Villa
Businesses
Baltorr's Rare & Wondrous Treasures: Shop (Curios) and Warehouse. A curio and coin shop owned by an expert on coins and military markings.
Crommor's Warehouse: Warehouse
The Curious Past: Shop (Historical Curios & Books)
Danimar Fine Wines: Shop (Wine) The Danimar family are one of the oldest holders of licenses by House Melshimber to sell its wines in the city of Waterdeep. They do a brisk business in both the imported and domestic Melshimber vintages.
Dathchant Engravings: Shop (Engraving services)
Diloontier's Apothecary: Shop (Apothecary)
The Golden Key: Shop (Locks) Ansilver the Locksmith (Southern Street of the Sword)
Halambar Lute & Harps: Shop (Stringed Musical Instruments) The premiere place to find any stringed instrument of the Realms. It is also host to a magical harp that sings by itself and is rumored to have connections to the Harpers in some capacity. (Southern Street of the Sword)
Halls of Hilmer: Shop (Armor). Master Armorer Hilmer's shop is hard to miss due to its front of polished plate armor. He sells custom-made armor that is without parallel on the Sword Coast. The shop features practice rooms for trying out his armor. (Southern Street of the Sword)
Hilmer Warehouse: Warehouse (Halls of Hilmer) (Southern Street of the Sword)
Kreis' Fine Wine and Spirits: Import/Export (Spirits) An import business run by Tyrannus Adarbrent.
Mother Tamra's House of Graces: School (Grace, Etiquette, Comportment)
The Market: The largest open area of the city that plays host to hundreds of stalls and camped vendors able to sell nearly anything in the Realms, and many thieves to relieve one of same.
Nureene's Marvelous Masks: Shop (Masks)
Old Knot Shop: Shop (Sailing Gear)
Olmhazan's Jewels: Shop (Jewelry)
Paethier's Pipeweed: Shop (Tobacco)
Phalantar's Philtres & Components: Shop (Herbs and Medicines) (4c). A small shop for medicinal herbs and ingredients for oils, perfumes and potions. It is said that Phalantar allegedly supports adventuring companies in exchange for the rare substances he sells here.
Rebeleigh's Elegant Headware: Shop (Hats)
Sorynth's Silverware: Shop (Silver Goods)
"Sharkroar" Horth Sharlark's Broadsheets: Printer (Broadsheets)
Velstrode the Venturer's: Shop: (Adventuring Goods)
Inns
The Jade Jug: Waterdeep's plushest inn with luxury in every detail, and well worth the expensive price.
Lazy Dragon: A newly-established inn (Old Temple)
The Pampered Traveler
Sapphire House: An expensive rooming five-story house across Swords Street from Blackstaff Tower that has provided room and board for more than one of the Blackstaff's apprentices who found the Tower to be a little too confining (Northern Swords Street)
Wyrmbones Inn
The Yawning Portal: A well-known inn and tavern whose main feature is a massive well on the ground floor of the tavern, some 40 feet across, that descends 140 feet into the first level of Undermountain. There is a rope hoist that can be used to lower or raise those foolhardy enough to venture into Undermountain, at a cost of 1 gp per person. (Southern Castle Ward)
Taverns
The Asp's Strike
The Blue Jack
The Crawling Spider: A tavern for subterraneans that pine for their homes (as well as regulars who like the thrilling atmosphere), decorated as if underground with serving folk dressed as drow elves. Well known for its subterranean dancing floor, and the many small "caverns" that lead off of it whose dark recesses are best left alone by the curious. (Southern Street of the Sword)
The Crow's Nest: A modest but comfortable tavern; a favorite among the clerks, bureaucrats, and visitors of nearby Castle Waterdeep. (Southern Castle Ward)
The Dragon's Head
The Elfstone: An old earthy tavern, with live trees in the walls and the bar, that caters to elves and half-elves, and is a rare source of such delicacies as elverquisst, guldathen nectar and maerlathen blue wine. (Southern Street of the Sword)
The Empty Keg: A rough-and-tumble beer-hall. Later in the eve, it often sees visits from some of the unattached ladies from Mother Salinka's next door, looking to lure some of the drinkers back to their boudoirs. (Southern Castle Ward)
The Flagon Dragon: A modest neighborhood pub renowned for its zzar (Waterdhavian mulled wine) and talyths (a palm-sized cracker with a thin slice of sausage on top, and a mixture of cheese, herbs, mashed root vegetables and other ingredients whose recipe is a house secret) (Northern Swords Street)
The Mighty Manticore: An older friendly tavern with ample ale and light evening fare at affordable prices that attracts a loyal clientele of merchants at the close of day.
The Quaffing Quaggoth:A dwarf-owned tavern and a growing favorite among the city's sailors, merchants and young nobles. The tavern is well-known for the house specialty: a thick-brewed stout mixed with an unknown liquor that is called the Quaggoth for its rumored ability to cure every hair on a quaggoth and then some.
The Red-Eyed Owl: A comfortable, unimpressive local ale-house that is a favorite of the average Waterdhavian locals, well-loved for its cheap ale and heavily spiced coast chowder. (Southern Castle Ward)
Sailor's Own: A crowded, dark, and dirty sailor's dive bar.
The Singing Sword
The Sleepy Sylph: A popular tavern for visitors to Waterdeep, featuring driftglobe lights and scantily clad waitstaff dressed as fairies. (Southern Castle Ward)
Festhalls
Blushing Nymph: An upscale brothel known for its exotic pleasures. (Southern Castle Ward)
The Crawling Spider: A tavern for subterraneans that pine for their homes (as well as regulars who like the thrilling atmosphere), decorated as if underground with serving folk dressed as drow elves. Well known for its subterranean dancing floor, and the many small "caverns" that lead off of it whose dark recesses are best left alone by the curious. (Southern Street of the Sword)
Genmura's Stage: A bawdy burlesque palace with two floors of small, cheap, stinking rooms above its taphall, Genmura's sees plenty of seedy sorts, criminals, dock hands, and sailors just come a'shore. (Old Temple).
Jhural's Dance: Nowhere near as raucous as many festhalls, Jhrual prides himself on the seductive, intimate environment he fosters in his hall. Plenty of alcoves and nooks to hide in with someone in close company, all surrounding a stage where his festhall workers dance to advertise their wares. His festhall is also notable for its equal proportion of men and women performers. (Northern Swords Street)
Lightsinger Theater
Mother Salinka's House of Pleasure: A shabby, low-coin festhall. (Southern Castle Ward)
Mother Tathlorn's House of Pleasure & Healing
The Smiling Siren: A festhall that specializes in small plays and the hosting of traveling troupes (burlesque and otherwise). (Northern Street of Silver)
Temples
The Font of Knowledge: Temple to Oghma.
The Halls of Justice: Temple to Tyr.
The House of Two Hands: Monastery to Tyr.
The Pantheon Temple of the Seldarine: Temple to the Seldarine (Elven Gods). When elven clergy of the Seldarine approached the Masked Lords to ask for permission to establish a Pantheon temple to their gods, it was considered a coup for relations between Waterdeep and the elven peoples. Waterdeep has always had an extensive elven population and is indeed the site where the Grey Ships of Evermeet come at Midsummer to carry away those elves who tire of Faerûn and seek to return to elven lands. When that permission was quickly given, the elves asked for an allotment of property right in the middle of a busy and crowded Castle Ward neighborhood, shocking the Lords. Even when pressed, the elves would not explain their choice; so without further ado, the grant was given. The Pantheon Temple is a tall, dour structure of gleaming white stone flecked with silver, but has within it a garden and long walking galleries between the shrines to the elven deities.
The Spires of Morning: Temple to Lathander. A walled garden compound with eight beautiful gilded towers that reflect Lathander's dawn. (Northern Swords Street)
City Buildings
Peaktop Aerie :Headquarters for griffon mounts of City Guard. Rorden Rialter Obyrdar is currently on duty at the Peaktop Aerie where the griffons are kept.
Guard Barracks: City Guard Barracks (Southern Castle Ward)
Guard Smithy: Smithy for City Guard
Bell Tower: A simple bell tower used to signal fires, attacks and calls for assembly at the Palace. (15 Guard at all times)
Palace Storage: Warehouses for Piergeiron's Palace
Palace Stables: Stables for Piergeiron's Palace
Palace Paddocks: Paddocks for Piergeiron's Palace
Walking Statue: One of the eight known 90-foot-tall stone golems created by Khelben Arunsun to defend any gaps in Waterdeep's defenses, this regal figure stands at the Gull Leap cliff at the end of Julthoon Street.
Watching Towers: Sentry Towers
Piergeiron's Palace: The center of Waterdeep's government with various courts, embassies and city offices therein, as well as the living chambers of the Open Lord Piergeiron the Paladinson.
Castle Waterdeep: Castle for the Masked Lords of Waterdeep and the Magistrates' Courts.
Ahghairon's Tower: The slim stone tower of the original First Lord of the city that is surrounded by invisible magical barriers that suspend the skeletal remains of a wizard that tried to get into the tower.
Guildhalls
The House of Gems: Jeweller's Guild
The Map House: Surveyors', Map and Chart-Makers Guild
Fellowship Hall: Fellowship of Innkeepers. The headquarters of the Fellowship of Innkeepers that operates as a member-only inn one night a tenday.
The Master Baker's Hall: Bakers' Guild (Southern Street of the Sword)
Tower of the Order: Watchful Order of Magists & Protectors. A three-story stone tower surrounded by a fence of sparkling green lights that coalesce into Azuth's and Mystra's symbols, with the hand of Azuth over the tower door rumored to watch the tower and fire magic at any intruders.
Guildhall of the Order: Solemn Order of Recognized Furriers & Woolmen
Pewterer's Guildhall: Pewterers & Casters Guild
House of Fine Carvers: Fine Carvers Guild. The slate-roofed wooden base of the Fine Carvers Guild, easily found on the High Road with its frieze of carved animals and people, including Ahghairon and other First Lords.
The Market Hall: Farmers and Grocers Guild
Alleys & Courts
Cat Alley: this narrow twisting, turning passage was frequented years ago by a masked, rapier-wielding man of wealth who scared young women and cut away their garments but was never arrested.
Elsambul's Lane: named for a long-dead priest of Mask and now one of the few areas with graffiti on its walls (they say Elsambul himself still leaves enigmatic messages and clues to hidden treasures on the walls!), it attracts many folk beyond simple curiosity seekers.
Jesters' Court: a courtyard frequented now by hard-currency girls and minstrels that has also been a performance stage for jugglers and comics as well as a meeting place for eloping lovers.
Sevenlamps Cut: named for seven fancy magical lamps placed here long ago by Ahghairon himself, this safe alley is the place to hire spellcasters (apprentice wizards and poor underpriests) for quick healing, curse removals, or some magical firepower for your latest excursion into Undermountain.
Turnback Court: a lamplit, shallow alley at the end of Selduth Street that is used as a rallying point for watch and guard patrols both day and night.
this concludes my collection of information about waterdeep's castle ward for now. it's a sprawling topic, each and every ward, and i'm sure there are things i missed or forgot!
still, i hope this was of use to someone other than myself!
tag list: @evenstar-crescentmoon, @criticalgale, @ofthedirewolves
if you want to be added (or taken off) the tag list, please let me know! 🖤
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#waterdeep#baldur's gate 3#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 meta#ch: gale dekarios#ch: altonaufein#vg: baldur's gate 3#series: baldur's gate#meta: mybg3#series: waterdeepwards#long post for ts#i am very sorry this got so long#i tried to cut & edit it down as much as possible
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Elvish Ear Binding
(Image description: a sketchbook page showing elf ears in various shapes as a result of ear binding. At the top is a normal elf ear, below it is a narrower ear that looks rather folded inward due to ear binding. The next ear down is fully folded inward like a tube of ear, the result of over binding. The final ear has collapsed into a flopped over shape like a dog ear. On the side of the page there is a simple sketch of an elf wearing bindings on their ears, tied with a bow and having the strands hang down. End description.)
The written notes on the page will be described below:
Ear binding is a common practice amongst the wealthy and noble families in several elf cultures worldwide. It is believed that the narrower ear shape is more beautiful and more "pure" in some cases, distinguishing them further from the lower classes and other sylvanids like drow and stroi who have wider ears.
It is achieved by tying very tight bandages, often alongside bits of metal or wood for shaping, around each ear. It typically begins from infancy and continues into young adulthood. Much like real world body modifications, such as foot binding, extra tight laced corsetry, earlobe stretching, and many forms of plastic surgery, it comes with health risks.
Ear binding always causes permanent damage to the ear cartilage. It cannot be put back into a normal ear shape after the binding has done its work. Other less certain risks include impeded hearing, chronic ear aches and infections, and skin problems on or around the ear, such as an increase of acne or cysts, skin flaking, and built up dead skin that can smell quite bad. It also becomes more difficult to remove earwax, which can lead to its own set of problems.
Over binding can also cause enough damage to the cartilage that the ear shape collapses and it hangs down in a floppy way. But this also happens with age, as the ear cartilage of any sylvanid will eventually degrade the older they get. It is not uncommon to see an elderly drow with bent ears, for example. But the effect is much more severe for those who have had their ears bound.
Not every elf culture does this, but it also isn't limited to a specific region of the world. Ear binding has been around for a long time in many different cultures, coming and going according to current trends wherever it crops up. Lower class elves and even other sylvanids have also practiced it, just to keep up with the trends and emulate famous or powerful figures who have had their ears bound.
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A somewhat fresh face for the Arch-Mage of Winterhold: I'm actually really enjoying working with the original presets as a base.
For Savos I went with the "middle age" texture over the elderly, because he doesn't strike me as old as some of the elves I've covered so far. I wanted his appearance to reflect his heritage a bit more, so he has a special complexion with scars from Scarified Dunmer, gave him a new beard and hair combo, plus some chunky earrings (all of which feel very Dunmer to me.)
While it doesn't look like it in the before/after, I simply darkened and saturated his original skintone, something about Tempered Skins seems to add a lot of redness that makes dark elves look purple almost.
I actually didn't even realize his original design actually had white warpaint, so I gave him a new design to make him stand out a little more from the common warriors and bandits.
Previous Elderly Elves posts: Nurelion, Neloth, Runil, Calcelmo, Elynea, Body Textures, Elynea Final, Body Textures Variant WIP, Dravynea the Stoneweaver, Wylandriah, Nelacar
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Despite the conservative sides of his viewpoints that have been written about time and again, we really must give Tolkien some credit for the unique embrace of diversity that he does provide at the heart of LOTR.
Three times across history (four if the legend of the ancestors of Dol Amroth’s princes is true), a Man and an Elf fall in love and break the rules of Elven culture to be together.
Four Hobbits, two Men, an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Maia - a total of five different races - come together from completely different walks of life, form a Fellowship, and become a family. They each share pieces of their own culture with the others, and the others embrace those pieces.
When a Dwarf is treated with discrimination by Elves, the rest of the Fellowship stand up for him and insist on being treated the same way he is (i.e. blindfolded), and he and the Elf of the Fellowship break through the barriers of cultural prejudice and build an unbreakable friendship.
A Man sacrifices his life to save two Hobbits.
A Man, an Elf, and a Dwarf forsake all other possible tasks and run on foot for hundreds and hundreds of miles on a rescue mission for two Hobbits.
The teamwork of two Hobbits and a group of Ents overpower their mutual enemy and turn the tide of a war.
A Man provides two Hobbits with encouragement as well as extra supplies which end up helping them survive the rest of their journey.
A Hobbit finds a father figure in an elderly Man.
The teamwork of a Woman and a Hobbit brings about the death of an evil it was said could never be killed.
The teamwork of a Maia and a Hobbit save a Man’s life.
An Elf and a Dwarf do not hesitate to follow a Man down a dark and dangerous pathway.
The combined forces of Men, an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Hobbit take on a hopeless battle merely to buy time for two other Hobbits to complete their mission.
A Man bows to two Hobbits at his own coronation.
A lost kingdom is restored by a dynasty begun by a Man/Elf couple.
A Maia offers a special gift to two wounded Hobbits and personally escorts them to a place where they will finally find peace.
Two Hobbits, eventually followed by a third, leave their homeland behind and build a new, beautiful life among Elven culture, into which they are accepted with open arms.
An Elf resists the “irresistible” call of the Sea to stand by his mortal friend, a Man, for as long as his friend lives.
A Hobbit names his son after a Man whom he has befriended.
A young Hobbit girl is honored by an Elf queen and later names her children after honorable figures of Elven history.
Two elderly Hobbits are warmly welcomed into a city of Men to live out their last years, and the ruler of these Men requests to be buried beside them.
The Elf/Dwarf odd-couple duo break the rules one last time and sail off together to a place where Dwarves are usually not allowed to be … a place where they can reunite with their other surviving friends, two Hobbits and a Maia.
Middle-Earth is a melting pot of love and acceptance across cultures and races. Tolkien may not have covered all the bases in his exploration of diversity, but by golly, did he cover a lot of them. He wrote a story in which people of completely different backgrounds form unbreakable bonds that change the fate of the world for the better.
#lotr#jrr tolkien#lotr books#lord of the rings#hobbits#men#dwarves#tolkien elves#frodo baggins#samwise gamgee#meriadoc brandybuck#peregrin took#gandalf#aragorn#legolas#gimli#arwen#aragorn x arwen#beren and luthien#middle earth
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yknow christmas may not exist in tsv but i think santa would fit right in
he’s absolutely corporate enough. a smiling face you see everywhere for the season. buy some products. maybe it’ll appease him.
he’s an elderly, jolly figure, not scary like those unauthorized gods. and if people believed hard enough, there might be a town of equally jolly elves up there at the north pole. wouldn’t that be lovely?
if you’re good, he’ll leave a gift. if you’re bad, well. a god must feed. and he sees you when you’re sleeping. he knows when you’re awake. he knows if you’ve been bad or good. so be good, for goodness’ sake.
he can get in your house through the chimney despite his size. he can get to EVERY house within 12 hours. that’s god powers baby
populous morality control AND recognizable seasonal branding in one. snow comes down and you start thinking about him, the Jolly Man In Red. and sure you may not believe. but when he’s in every advertisement, do you want to risk the possibility of literally being raked across the coals for the season? didn’t think so. so be a good little worker for your sake.
mall santas could be saints. get your flesh warped and mind twisted until you’re identical to every other santa in every other store. put your kid on his lap. he’ll send the wish to the big man via the Mall Santa Hivemind. he promises he will, with his too-rosy cheeks and his too-glittery eyes. and little ones remember: you better watch out! you better not cry!!
the one downside from an exec standpoint is that he’s only active for two months. you get a week into january and he’s not relevant anymore. he gets a brief mass recollection halfway through the year, and maybe a couple kids go missing as a result, but he’s underground, perhaps literally, for the rest of the year. he’s hibernating. he’ll be back next year to spread holiday cheer.
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"Mano po."
Pagmamano (Tagalog) - "honouring-gesture;" a sign of respect towards elders
A continuation of sorts, of this other drawing I made of the Feänorians, which was roughly inspired by Filipino culture. I originally planned on completing this for @nolofinweanweek, specifically the first prompt about how Fingolfin and Feänor's families got along, but life got in the way and I didn't finish it in time. More background/my long rambles under the cut:
Pagmamano - touching the back of an elder's hand on one's forehead - is not restricted to family, but it's usually done in the context of elder family members. I have many memories of attending family reunions and being told to follow the other kids to "mano po" a grandfather, aunt, or uncle. While Elves don't have elderly relatives, per se, I thought this image was too fun not to draw. Also, I love envisioning Feänor as that cool uncle who gives the most amazing gifts but like, the kids are intimidated by him, so they have to be told (and supervised) by their parents to line up and greet him properly. Fingolfin's just standing there making sure his kids all greet their uncle. (Maedhros, presumably having already finished his greetings, is sidetracking Fingon.)
All this to say, I think that these guys didn't have the perfect relationship. But. You can't convince me Finwë didn't get the whole family together from time to time on some sort of family reunion camping trip. And Feänor just has to begrudgingly tolerate it because he can't say no to his dad. While the kids, obviously, have a great time.
#are any of the characters' ages canon accurate?? probably not. i did 0 amount of research#in my mind maedhros is quite a bit older than the other kids though i don't know if there's a canon basis for that#but it's more Fun This Way!! so#drawing this type of silm fanart is my guilty pleasure#it took me 6 hours to color this thing#and i don't regret it at all#i love spending too much time overanalyzing the feanor fingolfin finarfin relationship and developing headcanons that will#eventually make me sad Because Canon Happened#sorry if i don't tag all the characters because it can't fit under the tag limit lol#the kids in front:#argon#aredhel#fingon#maedhros#turgon#on the left there is:#finarfin#(with sons)#(feanor's kids in the boat. you can probably tell which one is with the giant dog and which one is lugging around a guitar)#grandpa finwe with galadriel#on the right: anaire and nerdanel making fun of everyone else#uhhh the ambarussa are somewhere there (i forgot to draw them shh)#and finally of course you have the Dads#feanor#fingolfin#about to start the spicy drama in the fam reunion#clarisse doodles#tolkien#the silmarillion#elves
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Bring Back What Once Was Mine - Finrod x gn!reader
After the War of the Ring, you return home to Valinor, hoping to finally be reunited with your husband.
Words: 1k Tags: mix of fluff and angst, mention of canon character death, bilbo makes a cameo because why not
A/N: “being reunited after a long time“ is one of my favourite tropes, it‘s the perfect mix of angst and fluff. also i feel like finrod‘s apparent psychic abilities get overlooked way too often in fics, so i had to include them.
You never would have thought you’d see the white shores of Valinor again, after thousands of years. Waves of nostalgia washed over you as the grey ship approached the harbour. Memories of more innocent times passed through your mind. Of being young and in love with Findaráto, of a blissful marriage before the darkening. You wondered if he had decided to return to Arda, if there was a chance you’d finally see him again.
You still vividly remembered the day Orodreth had sought you out to tell you your husband wasn‘t returning from his mission. Up until that moment, you had been praying to the Valar that Findaráto’s vision had deceived him – that he simply hadn‘t interpreted it correctly. You were still amazed that you hadn‘t faded away right then and there, your fëa seemingly torn apart.
“What a magnificent sight!” You were drawn from your sombre thoughts by the elderly hobbit next to you, whose eyes were full off fascination. You couldn’t conceive what it was like to see the Blessed Realm for the first time, but you imagined it must have been overwhelming. “Your stories haven’t done it justice, (Y/N). I never could have imagined such beauty.” You simply smiled politely and nodded. Normally you delighted in engaging Bilbo’s worldly curiosity (only Eru knew just how many stories you had told him about Findaráto specifically), but the inner tension was robbing you of the energy to engage in conversation. What if he hadn’t returned? What if he would never want to return? Shaking off the thought, you told yourself to hold off on the negativity.
Stepping off the ship beside Artanis felt almost surreal. You had been gone for thousands of years and now it felt like you had only left yesterday. A large crowd of elves was gathered at the docks, each of them hoping to be reunited with their friends or loved ones, just like most passengers on your ship. For a moment you thought you had spotted Findaráto, but on second glance it turned out to be your father-in-law and you were once again stunned at how much his eldest son took after him. Your mother-in-law stood beside her husband, hope shining in her eyes as she scanned the descending passengers.
Artanis called out to her parents in delight and the three of them came together in a tight hug. You lingered behind a little, not wanting to intrude on the moment. It didn‘t take long for Arafinwë and Eärwen to take note of your presence, however, and you were taken into their arms as well. Has he returned? you wanted to ask but Arafinwë seemed to have already read your mind. “Yes,“ he simply said, “but he does not dwell with us, as much as it pains us. He seeks solace and only rarely comes to see us.“ Your heart sank. You knew how much Findaráto adored his family and to avoid them like this was entirely out of character. The horrors of his death must have still haunted him too much. Not that you could blame him – your own dreams had been haunted for weeks by what had been described to you of his death.
You strolled along the beach, following the directions Findaráto’s parents had given you. After a while, a house appeared in the distance – sitting lonely and far away from other dwellings. A lump formed in your throat. What would you even say to him? What would his condition be after what his father had told you? The questions echoed in your mind until you finally reached the house. It was simple enough, clearly not meant for more than two people.
A familiar, beloved voice reached your keen ears and at last you saw him. Harp on his lap, feet dangling across the water, Findaráto sat on the pier singing a song you knew all too well – he had written it for you in the beginning of your courtship. “Findaráto!” You exclaimed, adrenaline filling your entire body. He turned around at the call of his name and when he spotted you, he hastily sat aside his harp and started rushing to meet you half-way. The two of you collided so hard it almost sent you toppling onto the ground. You couldn’t tell who cried harder.
Even after thousands of years, his smell had remained the same – a mix of lavender and berries, with a hint of sea salt. You breathed him in deeply, feeling the tension leave your body and being replaced by a sensation you could only describe as coming home. Hopefully he felt the same. Entangling yourself a little from his embrace, you finally gazed upon his face. Not a thing had changed, even if this was not his original body – that one would forever rest in the depths of drowned Beleriand. One of your hands came up to caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch immediately. “I have missed you so much,” you whispered. It was an immense understatement, there were no words that could adequately describe the feeling of abruptly having half of your fëa ripped from you. “Me, too,” he whispered back and bent down to nuzzle your nose and press a tender kiss to your lips, sighing as he did so.
“I knew you‘d come back to me, I just didn‘t know when,“ Findaráto said, a shadow briefly passing over his face. He didn‘t need to elaborate, you knew he was talking about him having had yet another vision. Your heart ached at the thought of how exhausting it must have been for him these past millennia, living in constant uncertainty as to when he would finally be reunited with his beloved, as his visions had promised. Did these promises make him leave the halls early, foregoing valuable time of healing? You decided to push the oncoming guilt away for now. There was plenty of time for these conversations to be had later.
“Well, I‘m here now, and you best believe I‘m not going anywhere anytime soon.“ It wasn’t a mere promise. Nothing would ever divide the two of you again and no amount of sinister visions would be able to change that.
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Au in which the elves, or at least legolas and thranduil and such, don’t treat Gandalf like an old man, and more like an age mate(?).
Listen, we all know that gandalf isn’t actually an old man, that he’s a maia in disguise, but bc he take the form of an old man, people treat him in such a way you would treat an old man.
It really fucks with people’s perception, even the ones who know he’s not an old man in the traditional sense can’t help but treat him like an elderly person.
Except the elves, well, some of them.
Imagine legolas just mindlessly throwing supplies at gandalf during the quest the way he would at a fellow soldier and the rest of the questers feeling like there’s something distinctly not right about treating gandalf in a manner similar to a middle aged adult, but also knowing that gandalf is not actually an old man.
Legolas teasing and ribbing gandalf in such a way that’s not like mentor/mentee / adult/child, etc. But more like a pair of warriors on a scouting mission and it fucks with everyone else’s perception of reality so much because yes, but also no?!??
Just legolas treating gandalf less like the old man he pretends to be (and the minor god he is) and more like a same aged fellow warrior and it’s messing with everyone who has to witness it.
#would this ever happen in canon? probably not#do i still laugh myself sick at the possibility?yes#gandalf looking like an old man has such an affect on how people treat him#A+ deception#and then you have the elves who aren’t fooled in the slightest#do you know how many old men theykve had to interact with that were still fetuses compared to them?#so many.#gandalf’s old man act has no affect on them#legolas just gen doesn’t give a shit#and finds the way it fucks with the questers lowkey amusing#i am also once again getting gandalf x legolas vibes from this post. oh well#lord of the rings#lotr#silmarillion#lotr elves#the hobbit#legolas#gandalf#legolas x gandalf#the 9 walkers#fellowship of the ring
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