#elros & elrond

[youmisguidedmartyr]

What if you were born during a WAR and your dad became a STAR and your mum became a BIRD and your people were KILLED and then you and your twin were KIDNAPPED and then your kidnappers either DIED or fucked off to the BEACH and then your twin chose a MORTAL LIFE and then you became a HERALD and then your King got given a really cool RING but there was ANOTHER WAR because SAURON WAS ACTUALLY the RING GUY and then your King DIES and then your cousin/wife gets ATTACKED and then she SAILS and then your Foster son falls in LOVE with your DAUGHTER and then there's ANOTHER FUCKING WAR because SAURON IS BACK and then your daughter also chooses a MORTAL fucking LIFE and then you just FUCK OFF TOO but your twin sons didn't make up their MINDS

[minahwa]

elwing the white

[n0-n1c]

listen. this man canonically wrote a sad song about the first kinslaying. which he took part in

[sakasakiii]

elrond through the ages based on one glorious panel from chapter 95 of Black Butler (hopefully i got that right....). in the context of this sequence, i always thought it was sad to think abt how many people elrond has lost throughout his life alongside how remarkable he is to remain "as kind as summer" still by the time the hobbit rolls around 🥺

i redrew elrond's poses based on ciel's in the original panels BUT i forgot what page exactly the original panel sequence is... however!! if you scroll down to the middle half of this blog post you can find the original reference pic :D warning that it includes heavy spoilers for the black butler manga so u could just alternatively google 'ciel phantomhive running' and it'd probably be one of the first results that pop up haha

[sa-d-b-eep]

[aotearoa20]

Lotta fics with little elrond and elros tend to have Elros being more drawn to fighting and Elrond to healing, which is all well and good

But I propose to you an Elros who was the first to lean towards healing and medcines. 'The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known' is Aragorns sign, and he is from Elros' line.

For sure both of them have that association and Elrond choosing Immortality means he likely surpassed Elros in terms of skill just for fact of living longer but Elrond was Gilgalad's Herald and Bannerman, in my mind he began as the fighter and Elros began as the healer

[anattmar]

[Welcome to the soldier side,

Where there's no one here but me]

[sempermoi]

Here’s my art for my TRSB collab with @oatmealcraisin

The fic tied to Elrond’s portrait gallery will be revealed in a few days and I can’t wait to reblog the link then so you can all enjoy their work!

Here’s the individual portraits in a close-up:

[thesummerestsolstice]

Notes on the Care and Keeping of the Peredhel, by Maglor Feanorian:

Need to eat three times a day, more if they can be persuaded (they do not seem to have the refined palettes elves do, and do not like my attempts at Valinorean fine dining)

They are very fond of maple syrup

One of the human healers told me they were "growing boys," unsure of the significance of this– a reference to their shapeshifting abilities, perhaps?

It does not appear that they will reach a full elvish height, though that may change

They can hear high tones that elves can, but humans can't

This bodes very well for their education in music theory

They do not appear to have the venom that some humans do, as evidenced by the fact that both Mae and I have been bitten several times with no ill effect

Still, I am thankful that Finrod warned me of this human feature, as it has served me well in many battles

They have not bitten anyone in months, which I appreciate, especially given how sharp their teeth are

Boys said that they could talk to shadows– unsure whether or not they were just attempting to scare me (ask later? Bribe with maple syrup??)

They like having their hair brushed, but do not like any of the scented hair oils we have at the fortress

They refuse to eat bird meat; unsure of why but I won't push

Elros prefers wooden toys, Elrond fabric ones, and neither of them is fond of metal

They grow faster than elves, but are still too young to begin intensive battle training, Maedhros

They are very sensitive to the cold, ensure that they have ample blankets and cloaks, especially in winter

Feel much better after spending time with them– those who spent time around Luthien reported similar effects

They appear to appreciate being pat on the head

Based on information by uncle Arfin (regarding Eonwe), this is common amongst Maiar

I've only had them two years, an incredibly small time in the face of the centuries I've lived, but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this fortress and then myself

[armenelols]

I don't recall the books ever specifying what weapons Elrond primarily fought with and while he is usually given a sword by both the movies and fandom, I think it would be incredibly hilarious if he came out with fucking Dramborleg. They are getting ready for battle and he brings out this huge ass axe his gramps once killed balrogs with. Sir, you were discussing poetry 10 minutes ago, where did that thing come from

[elven-sisters]

Elwing with her boys!

Aren't they cute little smols?

[nerdanelparmandil]

Indulging into some kidnap family headcanons and ideas that I've had or have seen floating around my timeline.

I like to imagine that yes, love grew between them.

Love grew when Maglor would sing the children to sleep and banish their nightmares away.

Love grew when when the children were hungry, and Maedhros or Maglor would slide half of their portion of food into their plate, so that they would never go hungry.

Love grew when Elrond and Elros wanted to sneak into the kitchen and steal some sweet treats. Maglor would catch them and put the treats away, because human children might get cavities if they eat too much sweets. Maedhros would place the treats on their beds when no one was looking.

Love grew when Elros tired of learning music scales, and began to hide under Maedhros' desk.

Love grew when Elrond began to bring little injured animals inside, in order to treat them, begging Maglor to sing them better. Maglor indulged him, but the songs were never as effective as they could be, despite the power in Maglor's voice -- too much blood on his hands for them to be the hands of a healer.

Love grew when Elrond begged Maedhros to teach him how to use a sword, arguing that a dead healer was worse than a mediocre swordsman.

Love grew when Elrond and Elros understood that Maedhros was teaching them how to defeat him and Maglor should they ever be on opposite sides. (I read this somewhere and it breaks my heart everytime I think about it).

Love grew when Maglor would teach them how to be princes of the Noldor, how to behave in a court, how to welcome their guests. Maedhros would teach them languages and diplomacy, and how to keep a kingdom's finances in check.

Love grew, between a tale of their lineage and a chess match in front of the fire.

Love grew when Maedhros and Maglor would ride out to clear the lands of orcs and other foes, because they had two little princes to protect and keep safe.

Love was between them when Maedhros and Maglor gave them their own heirlooms to pass onto their future children, and sent them off to Gil-Galad with the rest of their scant court.

The last gift Maedhros and Maglor could give Elrond and Elros was to spare them the grief of their last moments, when the oath swallowed their last shreds of sanity.

[whorefindel]

this has me in tears yall 😭

[tolkien-povs]

Just something about how Elrond is described as "kind as summer." You can't go wrong with that. Elrond is amazing.

But the history of Elrond is so fucking tragic — if anything, Elrond should be turned evil, like Fëanáro or Maedhros.

But he didn't.

He lost his parents, his brother, his foster parents, his wife, his daughter, etc... and yet he's an amazing person.

Elrond being one of the bad guys would have been understandable. But he chose to be a good person who helped maintain the stability of Middle-Earth.

Despite all his pain, grief, losses, etc — Elrond chose to stay patient and prevent more people from experiencing the same losses he did.

This just shows one of the many different outcomes of pain that Tolkien presents; rather than going mad, like Fëanáro, or becoming an anti-hero, like Maedhros, or even disappearing, like Maglor, Elrond chose to stay sane and be a hero for Middle-Earth.

[sa-d-b-eep]

hide and seek

[millenariumhappinesstheorem]

After the destruction of the Havens, Círdan is certain that he will never see Elrond and Elros again—and for a long, long time, he doesn’t.

At first there are letters from Maedhros, sometimes threatening, sometimes pleading, always vague about the condition of the twins. Perhaps this is intentional. Perhaps, says Gil-Galad, he means to keep us in suspense. But Círdan is old. He has played this game before. In his letters to Maedhros, he asks only for the return of the bodies.

But even this request Maedhros will not answer. Months pass. There are no more letters. Gil-Galad takes matters into his own hands, organizing search parties, offering bounties, and after a few years his efforts are rewarded: Hunters report two small, dark haired boys playing in the hills near Ramdal. But when Gil-Galad sends his men to investigate, the children flee from the high king’s banner and vanish into the forest.

It wasn’t them, says Círdan. Elrond and Elros would not have run. And Gil-Galad, exhausted, is finally forced to agree.

The hunt for the twins never ends, officially. Sometimes Gil-Galad searches alone in the woods, and when he returns, Círdan speaks gently of grief. But when that grief is abused—when pretenders come forward, and forgers demand ransom, and at last the Enemy Himself baits His traps with missing children—then Círdan is forced to be stern. The twins are dead. There is a funeral. A stone is raised in their memory at Sirion.

Only later will Círdan remember the songs. No, not songs—lullabies. All those years that they searched for the twins, lullabies were suddenly, maddeningly popular. Everyone was singing them, and if Gil-Galad had traced the music instead of the reports, he might have had better luck.

But Círdan never hoped for anything more than bodies to bury, and while Gil-Galad might believe that the twins were alive, the best he could imagine for them was a small, dark cell. That they might be well—

That they might be loved—

That they might show up at the gate one day, cold and proud, demanding entry to the keep in lisping Quenya—

Even Círdan never thought that the Fëanorians could be so cruel.