#elven handmaiden

[villains4hire]

@murdxrxfcrxws

     Impaling a rather beefy looking cultist with her spear as she’d fling him to the side with ease, “It seems we’ve found the source of these ‘cultists’ the bandits have been answering to for power, Shen. I sense a great corruption festering beneath the stone, deep down, it calls for all those willing to answer.” Possibly a daemon... if not simply a corrupted magical power.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I'm continuing my DAO replay and like....... are we just not going to talk about the fact that Anora's handmaiden is Orlesian?

I'm sorry, how did the Queen of Fereldan end up with an Orlesian handmaid? Did Loghain approve of that? Because I bet he sure didn't! Given everything about him, I bet he threw a real stink about that! And yet, Erlina is close enough to Anora to beg the wardens to save her after she's locked up by Howe, appearing entirely loyal to her.

So I broke out the World of Thedas vol2 to see if it said something in there about her and I couldn't find anything. All the wiki has to say is, "Erlina is the handmaiden of Queen Anora. Not much is known about her background but she apparently escaped from Orlais. Arl Eamon suspects that she is more than a simple servant."

Gee, ya think, Eamon?

I just find that to be a very interesting detail, one that has my theorist gears cranking and spinning.

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Tolerate It | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.

▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy. 

The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left. 

Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect. 

Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention. 

Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.

Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone. 

You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize. 

One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp. 

Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable. 

The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair. 

Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance. 

The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years. 

Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found. 

You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?

"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"

At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.

" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."

Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"

You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.

"I could say the same about you, prince."

He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.

"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.

"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.

"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."

"You don't need--"

"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."

So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.

"I think I'm technically your stepmother."

"But you feel more like a friend."

You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.

"Then I am glad we are friends."

Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.

Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.

"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."

He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.

Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.

Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.

When would this torment end?

---

The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you. 

Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.

The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care. 

“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough. 

A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?

“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.” 

Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.

“It was a bit gauche.”

Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own. 

“I thought it looked nice.” 

His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash. 

“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.

Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror. 

“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser. 

“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to marry off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”

“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?” 

“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.

“To ensure an alliance with your family.”

“That is it? For no reason other than that.”

Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.

“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--

You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit. 

“I see.”

A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.

You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.

“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.” 

Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding. 

The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Tags: @jmablurry | @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @lifestylesleep | @themerriweathermage | @im-a-muggleborn | @sweetheart-syndrome | @boyruins | @AwkwardBecomesYou | @delyeceamaitare

[merilles]

@tolkienocweek Day 6: Background Characters | Elloth Tíngalad

Galadriel’s most beloved handmaiden and Arwen’s closest companion! She has proven herself to be clever and courageous, and talented with elven-craft. She is charged by her mistress with carrying the light of Eärendil into dark places no one else dares to go. She desires to see the world rid of evil, and considers herself highly honoured to be given such a worthy (albeit dangerous) task. Even the smallest Elf can make the greatest difference against the dark power threatening all of Middle-earth.

[runesandramblings]

Dance With Me

Word Count: 2300

Pairings: Kili x reader

Warnings: None

Description: A company of thirteen dwarves interrupts a peaceful afternoon for the niece of Lord Elrond.

Requested by @dreaming-doodle 🩷 Took a few liberties but I hope you enjoy!

“Lady (Y/N), do you require anything more?”

You lounged back in the crystal tub as the warm water washed soothingly over your body. The flower petals and oils in the water mingled together beautifully, making the air smell sweet. A goblet of your favorite elven berry wine rested on the edge of the tub, and through the open window you could hear light strains of string music drifting in.

“No, thank you. That will be all.” You smiled kindly at the elf handmaiden as she bowed her head and disappeared from the room.

“I could get used to this.” You mumbled, slipping down further into the perfectly drawn bath and closing your eyes.

Your uncle, Elrond, was the Lord of Rivendell. It was typical for you to come on an extended vacation to visit him and your cousin, Arwen, during the spring months. You lived a simpler life with your family in another elven kingdom. The luxuries of Rivendell were never lost on you. Every time you came to visit, your uncle tried to persuade you to stay. Although it was tempting, given the exquisite treatment you were always given during your stay, you never did. You had family back home, and it didn’t feel right to leave permanently.

You lost track of the time as you lounged in the tub, sipping the wine and listening to the faint music you could hear coming from below. As you went to take another drink from your goblet, you jumped at the sound of clanging and crashing coming from the courtyard below your window. Your eyes flew open. What could that have possibly been? You paused for a moment, straining your ears to hear the source of the commotion. Just as you moved to lean back against the tub again, you heard another loud clash and clank.

“What is going on?” You muttered, annoyed that your peaceful bath had been disturbed. You stepped out of the tub and threw your silk robe around your body, not even bothering to dry off first. As you stormed out of your private bathroom and out into the hall, you were greeted by your uncle standing apologetically by your door.

“Uncle Elrond, what is that insufferable noise?” You asked, gesturing backward toward the balcony that ran from your bedroom to the bathroom. “It’s coming from the courtyard. Is everything alright?”

Your uncle looked unbothered, as he usually did.

“Everything is fine. We have some unexpected dinner guests.” He said simply.

You felt an eyebrow raise curiously.

“Dinner guests?” You questioned.

“Yes.” He continued. “A company of dwarves traveling through. Will you join us?”

**

An hour later you were dressed for dinner and heading down the stairs. Your bathrobe had been replaced by more appropriate dinner attire, a light green velvet dress that hung off of your shoulders and flowed out into a short train behind you. The handmaiden Elrond had left to attend you had styled your hair and placed a delicate silver headpiece, very similar to the one your uncle and cousin wore, atop your head.

As you rounded the corner into the dining space you could hear the ruckus of several voices speaking over one another. It drowned out the pleasant strains of the harp and flute players that often accompanied dinner. You’d never met any dwarves in person, but they certainly seemed like a rowdy bunch.

You felt all the eyes of the room turn to you as you entered. Without giving any of the guests a second glance you made your way to the table Elrond sat at, along with a shorter, bearded man you took to be the dwarves’ leader. And…

“Gandalf.” You said, smiling widely at the wizard. “Uncle Elrond didn’t tell me you were here!”

Gandalf stood, smiling in return as he took your hand and planted a delicate kiss on it.

“My dear, you look as lovely as ever. Elrond did not tell me you were here either.”

Your uncle and the dwarf both stood as well, and as you turned your attention to the much smaller man he nodded tightly, not bothering to reach out and take your hand.

“(Y/N), this is Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin, this is my niece.”

Thorin nodded once again as Elrond made your introduction, still not bothering to so much as shake your hand. Something told you that dwarves were not ones for pleasantries.

You nodded politely in return as Elrond gestured for one of the servants to bring an extra chair. You quickly lifted your hand as well, indicating that it would not be necessary.

“It’s no trouble, uncle. There is a free seat over there. I’ll make some new friends.”

You could feel several pairs of eyes following you as you moved to sit at the last remaining empty seat at the longer table. It was between two younger of the dwarves, one blonde with beaded braids woven into his hair and mustache, and the other a brunette with a strange hat and twisted pigtails. You smiled kindly at the two as you approached.

“Is this seat taken?”

Both stared at you momentarily before they each shook their heads, indicating that you were welcome to sit.

“I’m (Y/N).” You said, offering an introduction as you settled into your seat.

“Bofur.” Said the one on the right with the braided pigtails.

The one on the left offered a cheeky grin as he took your hand in his.

“Fili, my lady. It’s an honor to meet you.”

You looked across the table at the dwarf who sat before you. He appeared to be young as well, with long dark hair and stubble in place of a full beard. He was looking at you uncertainly, with a shy smile across his face.

“And you?”

“M-me?” He stuttered out.

You giggled.

“Your name, sir.”

“Oh. Uh, Kili.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kili.”

The table remained deathly quiet as everyone ate. You were well aware of the tensions that existed between elves and dwarves; mostly due to the distant Mirkwood elves, who were known to be quite unwelcoming. You hoped their experience in Rivendell might be a good one. Hopefully they’d leave with a better opinion of the elves.

“So…” You finally started “What brings you this way?”

The confidence of your question finally opened the floodgates from the others. They began speaking, mostly over the top of each other, as they clamored to tell you of their quest. As they spoke you caught a glimpse of Thorin over Kili’s shoulder, glaring at the table. You weren’t sure they were supposed to be telling you the full details of their journey, but they certainly didn’t shy away.

The youngest dwarf sitting across from you had particularly piqued your interest. As you spoke with the others he watched you, joining in the conversation occasionally, but mostly watching as you spoke. He had soft, gentle eyes and a kind smile.

Before you knew what was happening you saw Bofur jump up from his seat beside you. You’d partially overheard some of the dwarves complaining about the music.

“Alright lads, there’s only one thing for it.” He said, running around the table. He jumped up on top of a smaller table and began to sing, stomping his foot along to the music.

The others joined in immediately, clapping in time or banging the table along with the beat. You found yourself jumping in as well, clapping along and laughing as several of the dwarves began hurling food at Bofur’s head. You enjoyed their merriment, their carefree attitude. Many elves were high strung, often too concerned with proper etiquette and manners. The dwarves did not seem to care what anyone around them thought.

As Bofur launched into a second song a few members of the company began to stand up and dance. You beamed at the opportunity, as you also got to your feet. You grew up dancing in your homeland. It was one of your favorite things to do. Although the beat Bofur was stomping out was a little more fast paced than you were used to, you were sure you could keep up.

You saw Kili watching you shyly as you stood, and you felt a small flutter in your stomach at the young dwarf’s longing stare. You circled the table to stand beside him and extended your hand.

“Dance with me?”

He beamed in return as he took your outstretched hand in his.

“I’d be honored, my lady.”

As he stood you remembered the small height difference between elves and dwarves; the top of his head came to rest just at the tip of your chin. Neither of you seemed to mind, as Kili’s beaming smile never faltered. He tugged on your hand and led you away from the table, to a clear space on the floor where you would have room to move. He placed one hand on your waist as you rested yours on his shoulder, and with your free hands you held each other’s. Kili quickly walked you through the steps to a dance the dwarves seemed familiar with. You were a quick learner, and within moments you were expertly moving back and forth with Kiil, your footwork matching his exactly.

You danced together through many more of Bofur’s upbeat songs. The pure joy radiating from Kili’s smile made your knees feel weak, and you couldn’t help but wish to know the dwarf better. There was a pull you felt toward him, and you were saddened by the fact that he was to leave in the morning.

As the dishes began to clear away and Bofur stepped down from the table, Thorin came back around to stand in front of his company.

“Everybody, get some rest. We set off early tomorrow morning.”

You felt a pang of sadness as you realized the evening was over. Thorin seemed like a strict leader, and you were certain he would not allow Kili to remain in your company while the others went off to their rooms.

Or, would he…

You caught a glimpse of your uncle from over Kili’s shoulder. He had a knowing smile on his face, as if he’d noticed the budding friendship between you and the young dwarf you danced with. He gave you a subtle nod before turning to Thorin and catching his attention. As soon as he turned his back to the company, who had slowly begun to filter out of the room, you turned back to face Kili.

He gave you a wistful smile as he turned to walk away as well. Without thinking you tightened your grip on his hand, and he turned around to look at you curiously.

“How do you feel about a walk?” You asked quietly.

He grinned mischievously in response. He glanced over his shoulder, checking to make sure Thorin was not watching, before turning back to you.

“Lead the way, my lady.”

While Thorin’s back was still turned you quickly slipped Kili down the stairs and in the direction of one of Rivendell’s many gardens. It was your favorite, and always had been. This garden in particular held Elrond’s collection of rare plants and flowers, items he’d picked up from all over Middle Earth and replanted. Most did not have the skill to care for foreign plants, but the elves had their ways.

You led him down the paths of exotic blooms, showing him your favorites and explaining where each one had come from. You felt his eyes mostly on you as you spoke, and not the plants. As you walked together the conversation drifted from the garden to yourselves. He spoke of his family, it turned out the angry elder dwarf was his uncle, and his purpose in joining the quest. You told him of your home and your reasons for visiting your own uncle. You exchanged stories for what felt like an eternity and no time at all. It wasn’t until you realized it was too dark to see the flowers around you that you remembered the time. Kili had been gone for a while, and you were certain Thorin would not appreciate your kidnapping of his nephew.

“I should probably get back.” He said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Thorin has enough reason to distrust the elves without my disappearance adding to them.”

You nodded in agreement as you began to steer the two of you back in the direction of the rooms in which the dwarves were housed. Kili insisted on walking you to your chambers first, and as you neared your bedroom door you felt your steps begin to slow. You had only just met, but already you hated the thought of him leaving.

As you turned around to say goodnight you saw Kili holding a flower in his outstretched hand. A delicate, pink and white bloom with spiky petals. You recognized it as a favorite of yours from Elrond’s garden.

“For you, my lady.” He said as he placed it gently behind your ear.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to pick those.” You giggled, accepting the flower nonetheless. You reached up and tucked your hair around it to keep it in place.

He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a delicate kiss against your skin. His touch sent goosebumps across your arm, and despite having just met him you felt yourself longing for more.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Should our quest end successfully, I might be inclined to pay a visit.” He smiled and gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he stepped back, walking backward for several steps in order to keep his eyes on you a little longer.

You felt another flutter as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he slowly disappeared from sight.

“Please do.”

Maybe you’d stay in Rivendell a while after all.

[emyn-arnens]

I've put together a list of some new and old favorites of mine for @genworkjune. Please leave a kudo and comment if you enjoy these!

A Crown of Bones by @thescrapwitch (G, Celegorm & his brothers, Celegorm & Aredhel, 4.2k):

Maitimo and Makalaurë have been lost in the disastrous parlay with Morgoth, and the crown now falls to Tyelkormo. He is greedy and selfish and brash, everything that a Noldor king should not be. Many expect that he will not be up to the task. They are wrong.

A Missive in all Goodwill by @actual-bill-potts (G, Finrod & Galadriel, Finrod & Beren, Finrod & Thingol, 3.3k):

From beloved to bereft: a chronicle of Finrod Felagund's last days as the King of Nargothrond.

Clearer than Clear Water by StarSpray (G, Goldberry, 2.2k):

The world begins with starlight and clear water. The River-daughter opens her eyes to see the stars as shimmering streaks blurring together. It is such a delightful sight that she reaches for them, and gasps when her hand breaks out of the water into cool air. The River-daughter, from her awakening to the sun's first rising.

Hearth Fire by @dreamingthroughthenoise (G, Fëanor & Findis, 1.5k):

They will have a home to return to. Findis and Feanor speak before the Flight of the Noldor and share in their grief the best they can.

The Last Queen of Númenor by NevillesGran (G, Tar-Míriel & Eärendil, 2.1k, major character death):

The Mariner's Star hung low as Tar-Miriel walked out of Armenelos, lower and brighter than she had ever seen it. This was right: it was an omen of the death of kings. Miriel would meet her death on the Holy Mountain, Meneltarma. That was the last decision remaining to her. She was almost too tired to enjoy it, but she had made it nonetheless.

Mercy by @cuarthol (T, Celegorm & Finrod, 3k):

Celegorm has many lessons to teach, not all of them expected or wanted. Finrod has learned the lesson, but perhaps not the one Celegorm thought he was teaching.

More, More, More by @sallysavestheday (G, Aredhel & Fëanor, ~600 words):

Fëanor tolerates most of his brothers' children. Aredhel, however, he enjoys.

Mother Wolf by @hobbitwrangler (T, Aredhel, Eöl, and Maeglin, 2.1k, graphic depictions of violence):

Aredhel breaks free.

Phantasm by ncfan (G, Aredhel & Maeglin, 1k):

Her child never cries, and he always seems to know when she's coming.

plundered her and stripped what remained by @swanmaids (M, Aerin & OFC, 2.2k, rape/non-con):

When Brodda and his men took Aerin’s hall, they enslaved all of her household and Brodda took Aerin to wife. The morning before the wedding, Aerin’s handmaiden dresses her in her bridal garments.

The Spinner by @searchingforserendipity25 (G, Galadriel, Earwen, Finarfin, and Míriel, 1k):

Nerwen was very young, when first she asked her father to teach her how to work the spinning wheel.

Things Yet to Be by @polutrope (G, Finrod & Turgon, 1.4k):

Young Finrod reflects on memory, foresight, and storytelling as he recounts the experience of a vision he had as an infant.

Threads by @slightnettles (G, Finduilas & Edhellos & OFC, 1k):

A ficlet on foresight & Finduilas.

Thus our hearts burn, oh brother mine by @melestasflight @runawaymun (G, Fëanor & Fingolfin, 1k):

Remember no grievance, as if we were not made to grieve one another, to wound each other as no one else could. For I knew you as deeply as I knew my own self. And could anyone else hurt us better than we hurt ourselves? - Fëanor and Fingolfin reunite in Arda Healed.

your veins are empty of dust by @echo-bleu (G, Nerdanel & her sons, Nerdanel & Anairë, 1.7k):

Anairë finds her late one day in her workshop, surrounded by slabs of stone larger than her. Nerdanel is hammering forcefully at one of them, the barest hints of an elven shape already taking form in the marble. Bitter, stinging tears run down her cheeks and into her collar, and her arms ache with exhaustion. The body is only barely sketched, but the face is already chiselled, smooth curves and angular cheekbones. Fëanáro emerges out of the marble, looking like he’s about to take life. (Across the sea, her sons lead a funeral.)

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hi Whimsy🖤

I'm new here and this is my first ask so I'm sorry if I haven't done this right. If you're comfortable with it and are able to can I get a Prince Nuada x chubby f!reader enemies to lovers anything (with nsfw if you're fine with that).

You have full reign over the direction and themes of this, anything is appreciated!

Thank you for your time🌻

Hello! Now this is something that actually deserves a full multi-part fic, so I thought of coming up with a detailed outline for the moment. I hope you like it!

“A prince’s regard”

Pairing: Prince Nuada x chubby F! reader (Human | Second person POV)

Themes: Enemies to lovers | Soft | NSFW

Warnings : Angst-ish | Mentions of wounds | Mention of character death (Nuada’s mother) | Nuada being a bit of a jerk in the beginning | Insecurities | Nuada gets a little handsy at the end, but in a cute way.

Wordcount: 2.2k words

Summary: As part of a greater plan to encourage peace and understanding between humans and elves, a lottery is held for elves and humans to live amongst each other. You’re one of them, and the elf you are paired off with during the lotter is none other than Nuada himself.

A/n: If anyone wants to make use of these I say go for it, but please tag me if you do.

Minors DNI | 🔞 | You are responsible for the media you consume

🍃As part of a peace treaty with mortals, King Balor proposed an exchange of culture and knowledge between the two former warring races. Selected humans would live amongst the elves as attendants, handmaidens, stewards, and students, and elves would do the same with humans.

🍃A lottery is organized and monitored by the BPRD to stop parties with vested interests from meddling and upsetting the delicate balance of such a hard-won peace. Offices spread all over the world turn into lottery centers, and any elf or mortal wishing to add their name to the list is encouraged to do so.

🍃The numbers may not have been record-breaking, but enough elves and humans registered all the same. Your name was one of them. You did it on a dare, and with your friends, thinking nothing would ever come out of it.

🍃When the announcements start, you join the others in front of the TV, listening to names being called out, along with the names of families and individuals they would be paired with. Your name was not called on the first day. It was not called on the second or third day either. It was disappointing, to be sure, but you made peace with it. The days passed, with more and more names being announced. Then, after a fortnight had passed, you listened, dumbfounded, while your own name was announced to the world in crisp words. You were even more astounded when you found that you were being paired off with none other than the crown prince of Bethmoora himself.

🍃Your friends take you shopping as you would be moving into a series of abandoned railway tunnels he had converted into a luxurious palace. No one has seen the inside of it except for his father and sister, and the handful of attendants that served him.

🍃You’re nervous. Not just because you would be living with elven royalty, but also because Nuada is well known for hating humans.

🍃The prince was cold and aloof when you walked in through thick wooden doors full of strange symbols carved into them. “For protection,” Princess Nuala said, “against any evil that tries to make its way inside.”

🍃She was exceedingly warm where her twin is not, asking dozens of questions about your life, your friends, your family, everything. Nuala helped you settle into your new rooms and then showed you around the vast network of tunnels and chambers her brother called home. Everything was dimly lit, because that was how he liked it. There were sculptures and priceless works of art everywhere, hundreds upon hundreds of candles, thick, plush carpets, and the library was unlike anything you had ever seen.

“Do not touch anything.” He hissed, startling you. Nuada had walked up to you without making a sound. It was more than a little unnerving that he could do such a thing. “These treasures are priceless, and I will not see them sullied by mortal hands such as yours.”

Nuala apologized profusely. “Some of the sculptures you see here belonged to our mother,” she went on to explain after he disappeared down another corridor. “And my brother is quite attached to them.”

She did not say more on the matter, and she took you to her own rooms and hosted you to a light supper. At least, that was what she called it. An elaborate meal had been laid out in the dining room of her apartment. During dinner, Nuala informed she had to return to the BPRD, as her true home was there, with Abe. She would visit from time to time, but her place was elsewhere. Your heart sank, for it meant you would have to be alone with Nuada.

“Do not fret,” she urged. “My brother has a good heart; it is just that he guards it so fiercely. Give him time, y/n. He will come around. Mr. Wink will be here as well, so you will not want for company.”

“That’s comforting,” you tell yourself. Mr. Wink was large and imposing and spoke in a language you did not understand, and his loyalty would always belong to Nuada. Still, you made peace with Nuala’s leaving, and enjoyed the rest of your dinner.

🍃During the course of the subsequent days and weeks, Nuada would go out of his way to avoid you. He dined by himself, trained by himself, and kept to his own chambers when he was not needed elsewhere. If, by chance, you did run into him, he would respond with a curt grunt before walking away. If you came upon him training, he would order you to leave him in peace. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, he would walk out of a room if you walked into it. It stung. What made it worse was knowing your stay had to last a full year before a change in placement could be requested. And that made you wretched, because the end of that year was still a long way off. Resentment took root, and you slowly began to loathe the prince for making living with him so hard.

🍃Mr. Wink, on the other hand, was surprisingly nicer, allowing you to join him while he used the mechanical toys that kept him entertained, watching TV with you, and even letting you read to him once in a while. He went so far as to ask through Nuala for you to help him learn your language.

It was a trial. Truly, it was a trial. Mr. Wink was a creature of fixed habits, and modern languages were strange to his ears. Once, he nearly flipped over a table in frustration. You had to keep to your sofa and hide your giggles while he ranted and raved and declared, through Nuala during her next visit, that human languages were languages born from the pits of hell.

“They may be languages from the pits of hell,” you tell him, “but you still need to learn. Come on. You can do this.”

The lessons continued. And Nuada’s avoidance of you continued as well. 

🍃“Why do you always avoid me?” You finally mustered your courage and confronted him after breakfast. “I know you are not all that happy about it, but do you have to go out of your way to make me feel unwelcome?”

“Because you are mortal,” he rasped sharply. “That alone is enough. Now leave me. I have better things to do with my time.”

🍃And so it continued, until one dark November night, when an injured Mr. Wink brought him home, covered in wounds. A raid had gone wrong, you were told. Hellboy had taken it into his head to charge straight into a hive of tooth fairies, the largest that had been found in North America. Many in the team were injured, and Nuada was one of those who were worse off. Doctors from the Bureau came over and did the best they could. You had to see to his care after they left, as Nuala could not leave the BPRD. She too had suffered the same harm, even though she never left the facility.

For several days, Nuada slipped in and out of consciousness. You wanted to let him struggle out of spite, but seeing him helpless and weak convinced you to do otherwise. You changed his dressing, gave him bed baths to clean him up, and even changed his clothes. You avoided looking at the scars that marred an otherwise near-perfect body. It would be rude to do so, you tell yourself. He would not like being gawked at.

You brushed his hair and then read to him before making yourself comfortable on a nearby pillowed bench that served as your bed. Sometimes, you would find him looking at you with a strange expression in his eyes while you went about looking after him. You didn’t know what to make of it.

🍃“You must eat something, my prince,” you insisted one evening, holding a spoonful of soup to his mouth. “Just a spoonful. Please.”

Nuada’s appetite had deserted him, and you had to feed him his meals. He fussed and grumbled and muttered choice words in the language of his people, but he would yield to your entreaties in the end and make himself eat. It started with a spoonful, and then another, and another. Finally, when he was strong enough, he could eat properly.

🍃Then he started to talk. It’s about the little things at first: the meal before him, his sister’s wellbeing, and your lessons with Mr. Wink.

“He speaks very highly of you,” he confessed, much to your surprise. “He says you treat him with respect.”

“Do other elves treat him with respect?”

“No,” he replied. "Trolls are seen as, how do you mortals put it?" Nuada searched for the right word. "Oh yes. As the knuckledraggers of my world. Mr. Wink is a remnant of a more primitive age and, therefore, unworthy of true respect in the eyes of many. Besides my sister and myself, you are the only one who is openly kind to him."

"You are kind to him, and yet you treat me with scorn," you sighed. 

The prince said nothing. He grew quiet and thoughtful. You take it as a sign to clear his tray and leave.

🍃Life with him became easier after that. While he rested, Nuada spoke of all the things he had seen and all the wondrous creatures he had met. You listened to his tales with rapt attention, for few mortals knew of such things. Finally, he opened up about his hatred for humans and why he allowed it to fester in his heart for so long.

“They killed my mother,” he spat. “When father left for war, mother traveled with him. She would stay at camp while he took off for the battlefield. He thought he had no cause for worry, for it was an unwritten rule, you see, for a military camp to be left untouched even during the height of fighting. There could be women and children present. Humans did not care for that. As soon as father’s warriors were out of sight, they attacked the camp. My mother… let us just say she did not survive.”

You did not know what to say, except for "I'm sorry.” Nuada smiled sadly and patted your hand.

“Tis not your fault,” he countered. “And it is I who should be apologizing." Nuada paused, and hesitated. "You have been nothing but considerate of my wishes the entire time, and you went out of your way to take care of me even after how I behaved in the beginning. I am ashamed of myself and must beg for your forgiveness.”

🍃Forgiveness would take a while, but Nuada did all that he could to make amends. He even invited you to accompany him to a great feast as his honored guest. That gave you pause, for while Nuada was lithe and graceful and everything a mighty warrior ought to be, you thought yourself to be the opposite of it all and told him so.

“Everyone would compare me to the other ladies,” you agonized after changing into yet another gown, one that was so soft it felt like you were clothed in nothing but air. “I cannot go looking like this.”

“No one will compare you to others,” he insisted. Nuada came into your rooms after wondering what was taking you so long. “They would not dare do so. Besides, there is nothing to give you cause for concern. Like your hair, for example. It looks beautiful the way you have arranged it.”

A flash of heat crept up your throat. No one had complimented you like this before. “It is?”

“Indeed.” Nuada came closer. “And that dress. How artfully it clings to your body. You have made a wise choice with your garments, y/n.”

“Oh.” Now your cheeks were aflame. “You’re not lying? You really like how I look?

“As my sister would tell you, lying is not something I excel at.” He grew bolder, and brushed his hand over your hip, your waist. “Soft,” he murmured. “Even softer than your dress.”

His touch was electrifying. And he was right. Lying was not something he was skilled at. You saw it with your own eyes—how he could not even pretend to be gracious in the beginning. You flushed and looked away, unsure of what to do or say. Nuada reached over and lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze.

“Did I go too far?” He murmured softly.

“No,” you mumbled. “I… I just didn’t expect such attention from someone like you. You are the crown prince. You’re dashing and skilled, and you're the greatest warrior among your people. And I… I am me.”

He went quiet for a while, as if he were thinking. “Then give me the chance to show you how you are so much more than what you believe yourself to be,” he proposed. “Can you do that, y/n? Give me such a chance?”

He was holding out his hand, his eyes bright and determined. But there was something else in those vivid golden-yellow eyes of his. Something more than determination. It tugged at you and drew you in.

He is trying, you think to yourself. He is really trying. And would it be awful to be at the receiving end of his affections?

You decided it would not be so awful after all and placed your hand in his.

tags: @nupppuff @thepjofanqueen

[raointean]

Alright! Time to dissect the season 2 trailer!

Under a cut due to speculative maybe-spoilers, and because this is going to get loooong! Enjoy! (Please. I spent way too long making this)

I apologize for the quality of the pictures. I did my best to clean them up, but that trailer was very blurry, and I'm not exactly a tech wizard 🙃

So, we start off with a shot of Halbrand on a horse through a metal gate/drawbridge thing granting him entry into a city (Probably Ost-in-Edhil, based on the color of the guards' armor and the direction of the plot this season). In the background, we hear Galadriel's voice saying, "Sauron sees himself as master of all Middle Earth." Great establishing shot, no notes.

We quickly cut to a shot of two of the elven rings (Nenya and Nilya) falling to the ground in the tree courtyard in Lindon. Notably, we do not see the ruby ring, Narya. In canon, that one was given to Círdan who later gave it to Gandalf, so maybe he's already accepted his by now?

After that, is a shot of Sauron's iconic stabby crown being carried on a platter by an orc, presumably to him in some kind of coronation ceremony. Galadriel continues, saying, "He seeks to rule it, not only through conquest..."

Then we cut to several half-second long shots. Nenya (which will become Galadriel's ring) tumbling down the stairs (seemingly a continuation of the falling rings scene, but from a different angle), Durin III looking up holding an ax in a hand that is also wearing a GIANT blue ring, the new Adar staring at someone or something with a horde of orcs behind him, and Nenya still tumbling down the stairs and finally coming to rest at Galadriel's feet. Through all this, Galadriel is saying, "But by bending the minds of all its people to his own."

We cut to a view of the tree of Lindon surrounded by elves seen through a stone archway, probably still part of the falling Nenya scene. I definitely see Galadriel and Gil-Galad there (and I think Elrond's back) but I don't recognize anyone else.

Then, Galadriel stoops down to pick up the ring and Elrond steps forward and shouts, "No!" Galadriel ignores him and slowly, as if entranced, places the ring on her finger. Throughout all of this, the voiceover continues with, "And for that, he needs not armies, (Elrond: *No!*), but rings."

PRIME LOGO

The logo fades out and we see a shot of the tree of Lindon again (this time in bloom, where before, it was half dead (maybe winter, maybe before they start using the rings?)). I see two guards, five handmaidens, Galadriel, Gil-Galad, and a mysterious silver haired or white-blond elf. It's POSSIBLE that this elf has their hair falling in front of their face, but it looks more like a beard to me (*chanting* Círdan, Círdan, Círdan) I think it's the distribution of the rings.

It then cuts to the famous shot of the three of them in a circle with the rings on their middle fingers, ready to flip Sauron off. Elrond says via voiceover, "In choosing to wear those rings, you have all become his (presumably Sauron's) collaborators."

Then we see that shot of Elrond and Galadriel riding through the forest/plain place on horseback. Then we see two figures (presumably still them) riding up a mountain ridge, and then standing on the edge of a broken bridge on a cliff.

I really still think this is the two of them riding to and discovering the Hidden Valley. Throughout all of these shots, Galadriel is saying, "I know you believe this ring is deceiving me, but I believe... it is guiding me."

Next, there's a brief shot of a snarling orc and then a shot of Halbrand. The Halbrand one is kind of interesting. He's standing in a city at night next to a pitch black horse (because what kind of Dark Lord would he be if he didn't live and die by the ✨️aesthetic✨️), but the interesting part is- I can't tell what city he's in. Given the direction of the plot, I think it's Ost-in-Edhil, but it COULD be Armenelos in Númenor... Through this bit, Elrond is saying, "All this may be by his design."

Next is a shot of someone in a greyish robe/tunic and sandals, wearing a ruby ring, dipping his hand in a pond or a tidepool. Next to him is what I think is a shoe and a dress matching the exact shade that Galadriel wears. The man HAS to be Círdan (I can't think of anyone else it could be) and I think Galadriel is kneeling beside him to talk.

Círdan dips his hand in the water to play with a fish and a man (possibly Círdan himself) says, "These rings may be how he will gain power."

Then there's a bright light surrounded by a circle of people and the light explodes. I... have zero idea what that is.

That cuts to a scene of Galadriel, Elrond, and Gil-Galad alone with two guards having some kind of council. Elrond says "They must be destroyed." (I believe that's in-scene)

Then there's a wider shot of that same scene and Gil-Galad says to Galadriel, "We will discuss the rings once you have answered the question."

Next, it cuts to a scene of Halbrand (Halbrand, mind you. Not Annatar) and Celebrimbor at night during a rainstorm. Halbrand is kneeling and Celebrimbor is hastily shutting the doors behind them. Is Celebrimbor questioning him? Imprisoning him? Hiding him from someone else? Honestly, given Celebrimbor's outfit, I think the Annatar reveal actually comes later on in this scene!

Then we cut back to The Council of Not-Elrond (because no one ever listens to him) where Gil-Galad poses his question. "Who. Is. This. Man?" Galadriel looks up at him looking terrified, resigned, and on the edge of tears, and says "He is no man." *side-eyes Eowyn*

Next we cut to the circle-around badass fighty scene we saw in the teaser (and now we know who two more of those characters are!) and see a glimpse of the Barrow-whights. (Don't know how that's going to work, but whatever, I can roll with it)

Then we see Celebrimbor looking disturbed and confused as the room is lit up by a blaze of fire from the fireplace(?) Galadriel says in a voiceover, "He deceived me. He is Sauron." and we get our first look at smoking hot Annatar, straight out of the furnace!

Seriously, the man is SHOOKETH!

Celebrimbor asks "What am I to call you?" and Annatar replies, "A sharer of gifts." (Y'all, the NOISE I made when he said that-)

Next we cut to a Gwaith-i-mirdan bellowing the furnace (not Mirdania, notably. This lady is brunette, not blonde) and then the workshop during the day with an anvil lowering from the ceiling. Annatar says in the background, "Our work begins now."

Now, onto Rhûn! We see the sunrise/sunset in a desert full of mound-like rock formations and a solitary rider on horseback carrying a tattered flag. Great establishing shot, though I have no idea who the horserider is.

Next, we see two figures (almost certainly Nori and The Stranger) alone in a rocky part of the desert, but what's really interesting about that is that we see them through a blurry, fractured lens. It then cuts to a group of masked horseriders (maybe the earlier one was some kind of scout or messenger?) one of which removes a telescope from their eye (their clothes are super layered, so I can't tell male or female). Nori speaks, saying "I have walked across mountains and desserts."

Then there's a shot of The Stranger moving gravel with magic. I don't know about you, but I don't remember Gandalf of any iteration doing that, so it COULD be pointing to the blue wizard theory.

Next is a face shot of Nori finishing her sentence with, "to help my friend find his destiny." She looks older and less plant-y, which makes sense, given that she's in a desert. She also seems to be in a village and I can see AT LEAST two people in the background so- Yay! Rhûnic culture worldbuilding!

Then we see one of the priestesses with a swarm of moths in some kind of temple. The moth symbolism connected to the witches that connect to The Stranger is also really interesting because I've also always associated moths with Gandalf. I think they're going to do another, much smaller scale, mystery box plot with the "which wizard is it?" game. Nori is also speaking during this scene, and she says, "One the fate of the world may depend on."

Next, we see The Stranger slam a walking stick into the ground and seemingly cause a tornado that nearly blows Nori away. During this he's saying (quite eloquently, now) "Is it my task to stop the fire?"

Then, we see him in a candlelit stone home, presumably Bombadil's, asking, "Is it my task to face Sauron!?" We get a glimpse of Bombadil before the screen cuts away, but it looks like he's taken The Stranger in and he's started interrogating Bombadil.

Then, we get a brief glimpse of Pharazón using the Palantír (probably after he completes his coup) and it shows him fire. That's probably prophesying the Fall of Númenor.

We see a quick glimpse of Annatar staring at something burning (seriously, not even a full half second), before cutting to the balrog going on a rampage. It flies up, creates a flame sword, and takes out a rock thing, though I don't see any definite signs of civilization, so it could be an uninhabited area. Durin IV says "To try and cheat death might lead to an even greater catastrophe."

I think it's FASCINATING that it's Durin IV saying this. Last season, it was his father talking about cheating death, which Durin IV had a very strong reaction to.

Next, we see a close up of Durin III's hand with the massive blue ring and another hand holding it (his own? his son's?). We pull out to see the Durins talking in the throne room and Durin IV says, "Father, take off the ring." If the last bit of dialogue was from the same scene, maybe Durin's using his father's own words to remind him who he is? Anyway, immediately after that request, Durin III backhands his son across the room (*chanwills0 voice* ah! abuse!). I think this could also be showing us that one of the powers of that ring is super strength?

Next, we see a dive-down overhead view of the palace of Armenelos (built JUST like Minas Tirith) with the words "ON AUGUST 29" in gold lettering. Then we see a quick series of images; two gwaith-i-mirdan pouring hot metal into a mold and a giant boulder falling in Khazad-Dûm (probably during a balrog attack).

Then we see Disa speaking to Durin. It looks like it's either in the throne room (unlikely) or their dining room (much more likely) due to a very ornate chair in the background. Disa says, "I'm afraid, Durin." I have no idea what specifically she's talking about because there are SO MANY possible reasons. There's the political tension between Durin III and Durin IV, there's the corrupting effect of the ring, there's the balrog, AND there's the siege of Eregion right outside their doorstep (we'll get to that in a minute).

Next up is a shot of the shore of Nmenor with the words "DARKNESS WILL BIND THEM" in gold lettering. It then zooms in on Miriel walking into the ocean (maybe to commune with that sea monster we saw in the teaser)

Then, we get a view of The Stranger and Bombadil talking in the desert (I'm starting to think he and Nori get separated at some point). Bombadil says, "Every soul in Middle Earth is in peril, will you abandon them to their doom?" Notice! The repeat of the word "Peril"! That was pretty important last season! Also, it looks like they're going with a more serious Tom Bombadil, which I don't love, but maybe he just became more cheerful after meeting Goldberry (or maybe he's on a long journey and is sad because he misses his wife)

They cut to a troll smashing something in a battle (maybe in Ost-in-Edhil) and then we see one of the mirror lights in Khazad-Dûm.

Then, we see a furious (and almost... underfed) Celebrimbor slam something on his desk and whirl around shouting, "No (Oh?), what have you done to me!?" I think we're going to get some DELECTABLE Celebrimbor whump this season, no matter what else happens. Given his fury, what I know of Sauron, and the exact wording of his question, I think there might be some kind of mind control maybe...? Please...?

Immediately after that (and I think that order is important) we get a shot of Ost-in-Edhil on fire and then a shot of Sauron walking through the burning city and only barely being missed by a flaming missile. But who's attacking? Celebrimbor doesn't really have any major enemies... but Sauron does. It's HIGHLY unlikely that Adar is attacking Ost-in-Edhil, so I think it's Lindon and that's the conflict we're getting all those smoking hot Elrond stills from.

Then, we see the new Adar (who doesn't look half-bad, by the way! And, more importantly, he sounds great!) sitting in a throne and saying, "Leave Sauron to me." and it cuts to a shot of him with Sauron's crown, teeth down, in his hands. He stabs it into a redheaded person kneeling before him. A lot of people are saying this is Sauron, but if he is, why is he kneeling? That being said, I have no idea who else it could be.

Next is a quick shot of an elf backlit by an explosion. Several beings in the background are on fire and there are at least five dead bodies in the shot. The elf is shot through with several arrows and, at first glance, I got really excited, thinking we were getting Celebrimbanner. Then I noticed the long hair (definitely not Celebrimbor) and the bow the elf is holding, so I think this is our new OC, Rían.

Then we get a shot of of curly-haired Elrond (yay!) and Galadriel. I think Galadriel says "Caress me, Elrond." and he reaches out to touch her face which I just- Whaaaat? They've been really good about keeping that relationship clearly platonic so far, so I'm going to trust them, but they better not mess that up. Brings "Stacy's Mom" to a whole 'nother level.

Then we get an epic wide battle shot of trebuchets and a charging army, but I can't tell if they're orcs or elves.

Next, we get peak wet-cat Elrond, blood streaming down his face and a thousand-yard-stare to match. I think I also see Aeglos to the side, so maybe Gil-Galad is fighting too? In the background, Galadriel says, "He will not stop until he is destroyed."

Then we cut to a charging horde of orcs and a shot of Adar running at the front of his forces.

After that, we see Bombadil settling his hat on his head.

Next, we see Arondir with his bow half drawn talking to an ent-wyf (YES! WE'RE GETTING ENT-WYVES!!!) who says "Forgiveness takes an age."

Let me pause and repeat that. Forgiveness. Takes. An AGE!!! This is the end of the Second Age, around where the ent-wyves disappeared. We meet Treebeard at the end of the Third Age. Forgiveness! Takes! An! AGE! DO YOU SEE WHAT THEY'RE SAYING HERE!? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry, freakout over now. Anyway-

Next shot is of Elrond speaking to Durin saying, "I need your ax, old friend." Guys! I think the dwarves are going to fight in the siege of Ost-in-Edhil! That would also be a good facilitation of Celebrimbor meeting Narvi. Maybe he's ousted from Ost-in-Edhil for a while, lives as a refugee in Moria, makes the doors of Moria with Narvi, and is recaptured trying to retake his city (and then we get Celebrimbanner... please.)

Then there's a shot of Númenor's harbor, which then cuts to Elendil walking the streets of Armenelos. Interestingly, there are several youngish people behind them holding folded up sea-guard uniforms. I don't know if they're turning them in or receiving them, but both of those options have FASCINATING implications.

Next we see Disa and Narvi side-by-side holding hefty weapons as Durin IV says, "Fight with me!" I think they're trying to raise an army to fight with them at Ost-in-Edhil and Disa and Narvi are there to look intimidating.

Then we get a quick shot of Isildur battling a spider. I think he's going to go through Cirith Ungol trying to escape Mordor and run into Shelob and maybe some of her kids.

Next we get a continuation of the last clip and see Durin giving his rousing speech. "FIGHT! With our friends!" Then it cuts to the crowd listening and it is... very enthusiastically received!

Then, we see the ent-wyf again attacking what is rumored to be Isildur's future bride. (By attack, I mean it looks like she's going to backhand her into oblivion and beyond)

That shot transitions into Galadriel on horseback shooting a bow and making something explode in midair. This is probably also during the siege of Ost-in-Edhil (I have a feeling that's going to take up a major chunk of the season)

Then we see Arondir fighting orcs (maybe near Ithilien?). Notably, he's alone. Bronwyn's not with him (probably because she's super dead) and Theo isn't there either. Did they go their separate ways after Bronwyn's death? Did Arondir try to look after Theo, but you're-not-my-real-dad syndrome got in the way? Either way, Arondir's voicing over in the background, "When the darkness falls, there are always some who rise [inaudible] (forth? for it?)... and shine".

Next, we see Disa watching giant bat-like creatures fly over her head. I... have no clue what that is. Sorry.

Then we get our second-favorite blorbo, Celebrimbor. Very dirty, very disheveled, still looks underfed, and he's dropping some of the rings into the forge fire. I'm not sure, but I think these are the Nine.

Next we see a giant eagle land at the palace in Armenelos and Pharazón approaching it. I don't know what EXACTLY is happening here, but I know that Eagles=Manwë and Manwë does NOT end up liking Pharazón, so it's definitely important.

Next, we see some flaming misiles being launched at Ost-in-Edhil. I wonder what the ethics are here? There are still good people trapped inside the city with Sauron, including it's ruler! You don't want to hurt them on accident!

Again, we see miserable, disheveled looking Celebrimbor holding up a ring and it cuts to Annatar, who says, "You will give me the Nine." This leads me to believe that the ring he's holding is one of the Nine.

Then we see a troll, more fighting, Galadriel ducking under a sword, and then running into a forest attacking orcs, it looks like. Maybe Adar's forces did make it there, maybe Galadriel is somewhere else entirely, or maybe Sauron brought them along with him.

Next, we get our hot Elrond shot of him pulling out his sword dramatically and yelling, "Death to our foes!" in Sindarin(? I think... they've been using a lot of Quenya in the show, so I'm not sure).

AND WE GOT A BADASS CAVALRY CHARGE!!!

Finally, the trailer ends with this screen.

[inquisimer]

replayed the Cousland origin for screenshot purposes and I am ALL up in my feels about it 😭💔😭💔

just. she's a carefree young noble, she's beloved by all the staff and knights. She rescues her dog from the cook who's known her since she was born and helps her former tutor teach the new young students. Rebuffs her mother's attempts to arrange a marriage but sleeps with an elven handmaiden. She begs her father and mother and brother to let her go into the battle at every opportunity but gives herself over to her duty in the end. and then in the end, the battle IS her duty. Becomes a Grey Warden after dreaming about it for the entire origin and thinking it would be impossible and then it comes to be in the absolute worst way possible. Both of her parents encourage her swearing vengeance on the Howes. Her mother could have gone with them but let her go alone (she's been begging to do things alone forever) to stay with her dying husband. Last image of her parents is her father's lifeblood all over their family home while Duncan forcibly drags her away.

in 👏 my 👏 FEELS 👏

[olderthannetfic]

Gosh all this talk of policing F/F brings me down to one of my greatest gripes about the Dragon age Fandom. The double standard between shipping Celene/Briala and Maric/Fiona.

I'm not going to go into too much detail, but TLDR both of the couples have a power difference of human ruler vs member of the elven minority who is discriminated against. Celene has tried to improve some elven rights but not fast enough or the 'right way' and in fact in doing so provokes a response where she has to put down an elven rebellion or lose legitimacy with the nobles vs her male cousin (and it all erupts into war anyway) She's been with Briala, her handmaiden and spymaster since they were both teens.

Maric does nothing to improve elven rights in his country, and in fact his two main love interests are elves and you could interpret him as being interested in them *because they are elves* in the companion books he's in (could be my interpretation because salt but eh)

Guess which one is often accused of fetishizing elves? Of having a problematic power dynamic and age difference of when they first got together? And if you ship them together you're a horrible ally who's probably racist.

Anyway it really sucks the fun out of making f/f content when it seems like people actively try to interpret events in the worst way possible if they're both women, even when literally, in the same game even, you have a direct male comparison to it where its all sunshine and rainbows.

--

[aotearoa20]

Penance: Part One. One/Two/Three

The little messenger of the Valar was actually very lucky to have found them all together at the same time.

There were many rooms and long corridors in Mandos. Ambarussa had found Curufin in this one some time ago, on the small outcropping of rock by an underground waterfall. And he would not be moved. He sat with a form that was barely distinguishable and stared out at where the water hit the pool, causing a continuous spray of bioluminescence.

Caranthir had no intention of lingering beside his brother’s bitterness. He wandered, often to the Halls of Vaire. He met his grandmother and her handmaidens. Sometimes he looked for news in the tapestries. Sometimes he could persuade the solemn to give him work. They never let him do more than untangle threads but in a being barely corporeal, it was enough of a challenge to keep him for utter boredom.

Ambarussa wandered too, Amras trailing after his twin as he showed every nook and cranny left in the Halls. But they returned now and again, trying to coax their brothers into their explorations. Celegorm followed them once or twice but usually remained within eyeshot of the little room with the waterfall.

It was pure chance that Caranthir had ended at back there at the same time as the twins and nothing was said of it. They didn’t speak all that much, well, save Amrod who never really stopped. He seemed scared of the empty space.

Mandos is quiet. For weary broken souls, the silence is a balm. A space to reorient and to heal. But Amrod has long come to terms with himself. Amrod is long healed and Caranthir knows the dark quiet has been smothering him. He thinks he may go mad and could almost laugh at the irony.

A light appeared in the doorway and it was strange. There was light down here. Green flamed lamps and plants that glowed hues of violet and blue. But this was different. This was warm and too bright for his imagined eyes. The figure obscured its glare was tangible enough for his footsteps to echo.

"What news, friend?" Amrod smiled.

Caranthir shivered. It’s eerie the ease with which Amrod could speak with Namo’s Maiar. Their presence still filled him witth a sense of dread, though this one didn’t seem to. Celegorm stood as it drew near but made no move towards it. There was somethingwrong about it. It was too bright, too solid -

“I’m looking for Maedhros Fëanorian.”

There was a beat of silence before Amrod grinned, “You are not dead”

There was a excitement in his voice that sounded nearly like a threat. The stranger lowered the lamp and as his face came into view, Caranthir was almost certain he knew him.

“Lúthien,” he heard Celegorm whisper and with that he was certain.

“You’re Elros’ brother” he said as he rose to his feet. The elf opened his mouth to reply but for a moment no words come out. As if he didn’t know where to pursue his first question or ask a new one.

“He came this way before he left.” Caranthir continued making the choice for him, “He also asked for Nelyo.”

“I am Elrond Peredhel.”

Half Elven. Dior’s grandson. He would have been the Prince of Doriath if fate and his family had been kinder.

“But you are not following him?”

He would have assumed so. He knew their own twins dealt ill with being parted. Elros had not stayed long. Caranthir’s remembered thinking of asking him to carry a message to the otherside. Perhaps he should have.

But it would appear this one was not bound for the Doors of Night. Amrod was right, he was still living and evenso he could sense a solidness to his fëa that his brother did not have.

“No.”

“What do you want?,” Curufin's voice cut sharp from his little crevice of stone.

“To speak with Maedhros.” Elrond replied, undeterred by the coldness of it. 

“Why?”

Caranthir took a breath he didn’t need, ready to defend the poor boy from whatever was about to leave his brother’s mouth when they were both silenced.

“Elrond?”

They all turned to the shadowed door.

Maedhros had arrived so close to fading, they feared they would lose him forever. Even now his fëa was barely a wisp of a thing. It was as if the darkness had found a voice.

“So for this one he’ll appear, but we are not so worthy,” Celegorm doesn’t quite growl but Caranthir elbowed him as hard as an incorporeal spirit can elbow another. He might scare Nelyo away for another hundred years.

“Maedhros…” Elrond began, the word hung in the air a moment before he shook his head and looked away, “I have petitioned the Valar for your release.”

“Little pity,” Amras echoed softly.

Elrond turned to the voice and nodded, “but not none at all, I have come to you all with a proposition”

“All of us?” Celegorm said in surprise, he like the rest, assumed any bargaining would be for Nelyo alone. But the half-elf smiled and went to sit on a small shelf of rock. His grip on the lamp shook faintly as he placed it down.

He took a breath and said, “The Valar, Namo especially, have no desire to keep you in here until the world’s breaking. Some of you have been in these Halls longer than Morgoth himself and your crimes though terrible could not be counted as worse than his.”

Caranthir didn’t intend to laugh, but Celegorm chuckled beside him and he found he could not help himself.

“Even so,” Elrond stared at them both unimpressed, “There are many who would argue most of the great woes of the world came to being at Morgoth’s first release and the Valar would have you free to sow discord in Aman. If you were to return there would be conditions.”

Unease shivered through his fëa. Caranthir wasn’t sure he wanted to know of whatever deal Elrond teased out of the Valar. Return would be a curse while the Oath hung over them. Here at least it slept once they realised there could be no escape from the Halls. Better they languish here until Maglor deigned to joined them, and with him any chance of reclaiming the last of their own. And then to Darkness, whatever that entailed. Compared to rhe alternative it would be a relief.

Not that he didn’t appreciate the boy’s efforts. Misguided though they were he had no reason to go through the trouble. It was sweet really.

“You would be put under the responsibility of one of the Valar and under their service – ”

Never mind, he was a petty bastard. Caranthir almost respected him for it. He laughed again, harsh and deliberate. This had to be a joke.

“That’s no reprieve, it is another prison.” Curufin had no face with which to glare. The flickering mist the made him up seemed to pulse and condense in on itself.

“But we could be free of this place.” Amras muttered, wincing more out of habit than anything else as his twin gripped his shoulder.

“To what end?” Curufin hissed, “Are we to be thralls until the end of time?”

“The Valar agreed they would be poor judges of the length of such service. A small council was appointed to judge when it would be safe for you to be left free and unchecked. Olwë, Elwing and Nimloth. Idril also was asked but she said would trust in the wisdom of the three.”

“Then we should be slaves forever! Who would agree to such a bargain?!”

More was said, by most of them, with far less grace. Caranthir himself had no desire to be the lackey of any of the Powers. He was quite comfortable down here, awaiting their doom in his own dread and despair and he was more happy to explain that to the little upstart.

Elrond sat patient enough until their protests died down.

“I have spoken with my father,” he said, quietly softly now, his eyes landed on each of them, “He said if you would agree to these terms, he would return to you the last of the Silmarils for as long as it was necessary to release from your Oath.”

The silence that fell was black and cloying. Maedhros had told them he and Maglor had watched over the peredhel twins for a time. He’d said little more, only to get him off his case, the last time they had been visited by other. Given the extent the Oath had ravaged him by the time he arrived here, they all gathered that it would not have been a pleasant experience for any involved.

He studied the boy’s gentle expression. Did he know the power he held over them all in a single sentence? He must. He must know he could get them to agree to anything for the sake of that offer. It would be a fitting and complete vengeance for this prince of the Sindar to hold the fate of them all at his mercy. Except he couldn’t align such cunning with the person before him.

And for all the humiliation being at the beck and call of the Valar would be, given the truly limitless possibilities, it was a fairly tame punishment. Perhaps it would have to be for the Powers to agree to it.

“What of our father?” Celegorm said suddenly, his voice strangely void of its usual elegance, “and Maglor, we don’t even know where he is.”

“This offer is open to all of you, I can go no further into Mandos like this but Namo said he would speak to Feanor” Elrond sighed, “As for Maglor, he is found. He rests in my house.”

“Is he alright.” Maedhros asked in a tight voice.

“He is not,” Elrond replied and for some strange reason he seemed grieved, “He will not allow himself to be helped but has conceded to follow whichever fate you choose. I... it is not a choice to taken lightly, but please don’t tarry, for his sake.”

“We will do it,” Curufin spoke up. He paid no heed to the stared that stares leveled his way, instead he turned to Maedhros, “We have to don’t we? What use is there debating it?"

Maedhros sighed so deeply him might have dissipated himself into dust. But he nodded and all at once Caranthir’s grip on eternity pitched once again. He had half a mind to resist it. He did not have to agree to this deal that he had not hand in shaping or bargaining. There were too many loop holes that could be explored and exploited both ways. But a familiar heaviness gripped him and turned his tongue to lead. He could not risk Elrond recinding his offer by asking too many questions.

The smile on the half elf’s face was drenched with relief. If he didn’t know better Caranthir would have thought the lantern itself shone brighter at the news. He couldn’t fathom why. His head hurt, so little has happened for so long, for everything he knew to change once more! But to be free... Such hope was as sharp as a knife pericing the depths of his fea. He tore it out and shook his head. Free to do what?

[villains4hire]

@rxnowned-vxmpire-hxnter plotted for Kerillian with Simon.

-

In the distance, sounds of bells and screams could be heard of townsfolk, walls falling down as swarms of creatures would descend into in literal droves, the ground razed and set aflame as the guards were slaughtered. Yet a mysterious, ornately adorned warrior armed with a shield and spear around Simon's height had appeared, running abnormally fast in heavy armor in a complete, acrobatic sprinting leap, dodging and weaving like a dancing dervish as the heads of the rat creatures would have their heads destroyed in gore. Yet refusing to move from a choke point that they reached, the vermin were threatening to break into like a flood, a stroke of the shield, groups of them sent flying as that bash rang out in a sickening crack.

In the background, as they fought against what was hopeless, the townsfolk had boarded themselves into a warehouse at the docks. The choke-point only a few feet away, a few elven-crafted knives tossed here and there by the warrior at any that had climbed the tall buildings to move past her. The warrior was alone in the choke-point, injuries notably starting to stack up as those movements became more and more primal with a honed edge of precise brutality.

[thelordofgifs]

Writing Patterns: Closing Lines

@polutrope tagged me to share the final lines of my ten most recently posted fics! Thanks for the tag, this is such a fun game!

Fingon looks at him for a long moment: and then smiles, and says, “It does,” and rises onto his toes to kiss Maedhros again, and the Sun is warm and gentle on their heads as their lips meet. (kept you like an oath, 1k, G, russingon)

Fingon could not but admit that he did. (sore must be the storm, 6k, E, russingon)

And I know it is wrong to draw strength from being his — but all the same I hope (Notes on the Care of the Tormented, ed. Elrond Half-elven, 4k, T, Maedhros & Maglor)

She is glad Abraphêl knows how to swim. (before the black gale, 8k, E, ofc x ofc)

But here was his brother in his arms, all the same, and the sound of his breathing rose and fell with the same steady cadence as the unending roar of the Sea. (the cleaving, 8k, G, Maedhros & Maglor)

And he turns back to the chest before Maedhros can object. (crowns and other trinkets, 1k, G, Maedhros & Maglor)

Fingolleth has not the breath to object – nor, admittedly, does she wish to do so. (handmaiden, 3k, E, russingon)

Maglor took his hand, and leaned against him, and they watched as the fire dwindled into the warm darkness of the spring evening. (to be so bound, 2k, G, Maedhros & Maglor)

“Of course, Atar,” he said, and followed his father out of the garden, leaving Fingon standing alone by the wall. (Belonging, 1k, T, russingon)

“[Rhetorical question]?” says [character], and then he [verbs]. (the fairest stars, 78k, T, WIP, redacted for obvious reasons)

I don’t think there’s any particular pattern here – I like a closing line, but they do seem to vary quite a bit! I close on dialogue more often than this sample seems to suggest, I think.

Tagging @welcomingdisaster, @eilinelsghost, @thescrapwitch, @grey-gazania, @niennawept and anyone else who’d like to join in!

[viviennevermillion]

Consider: Elven Prince Bernard and Elven Knight Bethina / Betty (they're hard to sketch so excuse the oopsies).

I think after Disney didn't even manage to successfully nostalgia-bait me (and I'm someone who likes the Star Wars sequels and Season 5-8 of Winx Club so this really says something), we should have a medieval fantasy AU as a treat!

Ideas for what I might draw next / brainrot about:

Witch Sandra — like with a pointy hat and everything! Perhaps with Befana giving her advice but I don't think my skills are good enough to pull that off help

Alternative idea: Disney Princess Sandra who attracts little woodland creatures when she sings (her singing is awful for comic relief purposes and it still makes the finches flock to her)

Court Jester Cal "Do you think Riley will like me in this outfit?" Calvin

Noblewoman Riley

Court Jester Noel — in solidarity with Court Jester Cal

Royal Advisor Edie

Curtis as whatever the male version of a handmaiden is + handbook

Roy Enchantix! — like with big ass fae wings

Snow King Jack. Like, Elsa but shadier.

Mother Nature (we really need to give her a proper name. come on, this fandom is like 10 people, we can make it happen!) as a gorgeous nature spirit! Or maybe as a goddess? Both would work 🤔

What do we do with Scott? Do we just make him the king because the previous king died in his front yard? Can you imagine that?

I think Charlie would work as a knight

I know this isn't medieval but we can slap a Victorian dress onto Carol and have her beat someone up with a high heel but I'm not sure I can draw that 😂

Laura and Neil as regular citizens from some backwater village who don't believe in magic until Elven Prince Bernard plunders their fridge

Magnus Antas as like,,,, Tom Bombadil. A very evil, slightly more feral Tom Bombadil.

[sotwk]

Thranduil: the "Vigorous Spring"

Happy Spring Equinox / Start of Spring!

In honor of the occasion and the fact that our favorite Elvenking, Thranduil son of Oropher, was named after the season, I decided to pull together a few quick SotWK headcanons I have regarding Thranduil's birth:

Thranduil was born in the First Age 452, towards the end of the Long Peace in the Kingdom of Doriath.

His father Oropher was from the House of Elmo, and therefore a relative of both King Thingol and Celeborn. He also served as a high-ranking member of Thingol’s court of advisers.

Thranduil's mother, Meluiel, was a dear friend and noble handmaiden to Queen Melian, and the younger sister of the legendary hero, Beleg Cuthalion.

Thranduil was brought into the world by Queen Melian herself who served as midwife, in the highest honor that could be given to any mother and child.

Royals and dignitaries were present to welcome and bless Thranduil after his birth, including King Thingol, Luthien, Celeborn, and Galadriel.

He was the last Elven child to be born during the Long Peace, for the war resumed with the Dagor Bragollach only 3 years later.

Thranduil's name was given to him by his mother for a few reasons other than the timing of his birth. Lady Meluiel foresaw the strength in her son, and the greatness he would one day achieve as a leader of his own kingdom.

It was perhaps his beloved wife's visions of their son as a great King that drove Oropher to pursue the kingship of a realm of his own--not just for himself, but eventually for his son.

"Vigorous" speaks of Thranduil's might and being in himself a formidable force of nature. He would be able to endure and persevere through great trials to achieve victory.

"Spring" will always be able to break forth through even the harshest of winters because of Thranduil's power and tenacity, and under his care and leadership his people will find hope and refuge.

Happy Spring, everyone!

It's sure taking its sweet time to finally get here, weather-wise! I know we're all sick and tired of the cold and rain and snow, but hang in there! <3 Just like King Thranduil, the brighter seasons will endure!

Tolkien Headcanon tag list:

@quickslvxr @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @tamryniel @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @aduialel @glassgulls @ladyweaslette

(I am really unsure of who wants to be tagged in my posts anymore, so please know I don't mean for anyone to be excluded! I just choose to be conservative in who I tag because I don't never to "spam" anyone. XD If you want to be tagged any of my writings, please just let me know!)

[annab99awritersdream]

MASTERLIST

Fandom events

Tolkien OC week 2024

ONE-SHOTS FOR TOLKIEN OC WEEK 2024

Day 1 - Day 2 - Day 3 - Day 4 - Day 5 - Day 6 - Day 7

~

Fanfic

The Lady of Ithilien

WIP

(Language: English

Words: 57,428

Chapters: 4/?)

Main Pairings: Eönwë x OC (Elenna); Faramir x OC; Aragorn x Arwen; Eldarion x Ilmarë (eventually)

Synopsis: Fourth Age.

Elenna Tindómiel is the eldest child of the Steward of Gondor and his late wife. She is what one would call a perfect lady. Betrothed to Eldarion, the king's son, she will face many hardships. An old Enemy of Middle-earth returns and, amidst tragedy and horror, the young lady will meet the ultimate owner of her heart...who also happens to be an old acquaintance of the Dark Lord himself.

Link: The Lady of Ithilien

*Synnøve Karlsen as Elenna Tindómiel (Enna), Lady of Ithilien*

ELENNA "ENNA" TINDÓMIEL: BACKGROUND INFO & TRIVIA

*Daniel Sharman as Eönwë*

*Daniel Sharman & Synnøve Karlsen as Eönwë and Elenna (Enna)*

A portrait of my main couple by the insanely talented @drawulan ☺️ thank you again for drawing them and thank you @lucifers-legions for commissioning it!

MAIARIN OCs: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

GONDORIAN OCs: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

DÚNEDAIN OCs (ARNOR): THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

ROHIRRIM OCs: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

HARADRIM OCs: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

HALF DÚNEDAIN (GONDOR)/HALF HARADRIM OCs: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

ELVEN OCs: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

HALF ELVEN/HALF HUMAN OCs: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

CANON CHARACTERS FACECLAIMS: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

CHILDREN OF EÖNWË AND ELENNA (OCs): THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

DUNLENDINGS OCs: THE LADY OF ITHILIEN

Tales Of A Brother

(One-shot; COMPLETE

Language: English

Words: 2834

Chapters: 1/1)

One-shot in form of a letter written by Boromir to his older brother Mírion (children to Elenna and Eönwë)

Link: Tales Of A Brother

A COLLECTION OF GIFT FICS for @lucifers-legions

Multi chapter work featuring OCs that belong to the both of us (check her character profiles linked on her masterlist). Collection of one-shots.

Chapter 1: A Cousin's Love

(Language: English; Words: 3,030)

It features @lucifers-legions' OC Finduilas, daughter of Boromir and first cousin of my main OC Elenna "Enna" Tindómiel.

Main Pairings: Eönwë x OC (Elenna)

Link: A Cousin's Love

*Synnøve Karlsen as Elenna Tindómiel (Enna), daughter of Faramir

Anastasia Tsilimpiou as Finduilas, daughter of Boromir (not my OC; she belongs to @lucifers-legions)*

EXCERPT FROM THE GIFT-FIC AN UNEXPECTED MEETING featuring my OCs Wyn and Finnie (daughters of Eönwë and Elenna)=> the full version will be uploaded to AO3

The Handmaiden & The Prince

(One-shot; COMPLETE

Language: English

Words: 8,358

Chapters: 1/1)

Main Pairings: Eldarion x Ilmarë; Aragorn x Arwen; Faramir x OC

Synopsis: Spin-off to The Lady of Ithilien.

It will follow the life of Eldarion as Prince of Gondor following his marriage to Ilmarë, the Handmaiden of Varda. [I might even write something about Eldarion as king, who knows.]

The surviving characters from The Lady of Ithilien will also be featured (which is why this fic might be extremely short if compared to LOI)

Link=> (currently a one-shot to be turned into a long fic):

The Handmaiden & The Prince

*Henry Cavill as Eldarion & Matilda Lutz (back) as Ilmarë*

*Matilda Lutz as Ilmarë*

HARADRIM OCs: THE HANDMAIDEN & THE PRINCE

-

PLANNED FICS

Estel i Hína

(Translation: A Child's Hope)

Synopsis: Direct sequel to The Lady of Ithilien.

Set in Valinor, it follows the lives of Elenna and Eönwë's children as they come to terms with the death of their parents.

OCs: ESTEL I HÍNA

Nyerénya... Namárië!

(Translation: My beloved...Farewell!)

Main Pairings: Fëanorian OC x Human OC (Elenna "Enna")

Synopsis: First Age of the Sun.

Elenna (Enna) is the granddaughter of Barahir of the House of Bëor, the daughter of Hiril and the niece of Beren Erchamion. Her mother remains in Dorthonion, while her uncle travels to Doriath where he meets Lúthien Tinúviel [recap of the Beren and Lúthien story].

After the quest of the Silmaril is completed, Enna—who had herself been traveling through Beleriand—stumbles upon the Sons of Fëanor who have sworn their Oath and are looking for the stolen Silmarils. Among them, a young Noldo takes notice of the girl and the seeds of a forbidden romance are planted. The two of them flee together and their love blossoms, until she's captured by the lieutenant of Morgoth and tortured in his fortress of Angband. Will the two lovers be able to reunite?

*Synnøve Karlsen as Elenna (Enna)*

NYERÉNYA...NAMÁRIË!: AN OVERVIEW

[Untitled Boromir Lives! spin-off]

Main pairings: Boromir x Elf-OC (Thalindriel); possibly Faramir x OC (Finduilas of Lamedon) and Eönwë x OC (Elenna)

Unless it's just a very short thing which only features the two of them (which would be a lot more manageable in terms of writing)

World-building

HARAD: TITLES & HEADCANONS

Edits

Snippets

Also to be posted on AO3!