#findaráto

[ayaosguqin]

King of Nargothrond , Five Act Tragedy

“I go now to my long rest in the timeless halls beyond the seas and the Mountains of Aman. It will be long ere I am seen among the Noldor again; and it may be that we shall not meet a second time in death or life, for the fates of our kindreds are apart. Farewell!' He died then in the dark, in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, whose great tower he himself had built.

Link to my Ko Fi

[doot-boi]

"But Finrod walks with Finarfin his father beneath the trees in Eldamar"

I think it's no surprise to my followers who pay attention to my silm posting that I love Finrod Felagund's character, but this is the line that sticks with me heavily. Within the Quenta Silmarillion, it is told that all of those Ñoldor caught within the Doom of Mandos and of the Silmarils will "yearn for [their] bodies, and find little pity", which is often taken to mean that none of those who left Valinor would be granted the possibility of returning to physical form, to live in the bliss of Aman (though arguments can clearly be made that only those who participated in the kinslaying were under such a doom, but I choose to ignore that). That's what makes this line so much more impactful to me, along with a more important facet; it's placement in the chapter.

Just 2 pages earlier, at his death, Finrod says it will be long before he is seen again amongst his people, perhaps believing he will not be granted a bodily form until such a time as the rest of the Ñoldor would be. He dies in the darkness of his corrupted tower, and is mourned at length by Beren until Lúthien his love arrives and rouses him, and together their hope is kindled again as the sun rises (a very common theme in Tolkien's works). They honour and bury Finrod atop the island, a tomb to be unchanged until the War of Wrath caused upheaval in all of Beleriand

It's here that this line comes in. His tomb is inviolate until all the land is, but he himself walks with his father, the only of Finwë's sons to remain in Valinor, and that says so many things.

He is one of few, or perhaps the only, Ñoldorin exile to be gifted bodily rebirth. He surpassed the Doom of Mandos (see my 2nd link in paragraph 1)

His father welcomes him home and forgives his leaving

No matter the state of his grave, Felagund is himself unmarred

No timeline is given for Finrod's bodily resurrection, but I choose to believe it is before the end of the First Age (and the fandom wiki agrees, tolkien gateway being more vague), for no other reason than Eärendil. It is because of Finrod, his assistance of and sacrifice for Beren, that the man of Bëor lives long enough to be united with Lúthien in the Quest, and they, along with Huan, are able to retrieve the Silmaril that Eärendil brings to Aman. I consider that Finrod is likely unaware of the success of the Quest, given it seems the rest of Valinor was (or at least they waited for a plea from Middle-Earth before acting on anything). Imagine his wonder, his pride, and his joy, at seeing that not only was the quest successful, but here, 80 years after he died, he sees Beren and Lúthien's grandson-in-law bearing the jewel. I wonder what he would have said to Amarië his love, if he would have remarked in joyous tears that the horrors and the death that led him back into Aman were not faced in vain. I wonder if, taking up his weapon to participate in the War of Wrath, he either sat a moment in sorrow, or in hope, or in some other emotion, considering what lay ahead of him, and as he came home afterwards with many of his kinsfolk, what he felt as he came to the bliss that would last until the changing of the world.

No matter his feelings on the Wars, what his experiences are and what he goes through after his resurrection, we know this:

Finrod walks with Finarfin his father beneath the trees of Eldamar

[lovefairymina]

*while brushing Finrod's hair*: flower gleam and glow...let your power shine...make the clock reverse...

finrod: what're you doing-

me: SHHHHHHH

“My love, what are doing—” A finger to his lips to silence his questioning, Finrod finally submitted to silence and left you to do your thing. Despite the small pout, he carefully listened to your voice and words while you brushed his luscious hair. Very easily did a soothing wave of calmness wash over him, causing him to melt into your touch further.

[lovelylovebug]

"Finrod? How do I look?" You asked and spinned around.

"No words in any language could describe how beautiful you are." Finrod said with a smile. He reached for your hands. "Every day you enchant me anew with your beauty, Melda."

[a-happy-artist]

[caliawen]

Childhood Crush

Pairing = Finrod x Mairafinwë (OC)

Genre = General audiences

General ratings = pure fluff <3

Content warnings = none

Word count = 1,9k

Notes = Hi, yes, hello 🫣 It has been a while, hasn’t it? Anyway, I found my inspiration back and I’ve finished this piece in time for day 5 of @tolkienocweek ! The prompt was ‘shipping’ so it was in theme and I thought ‘why not?’ Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Finrod never lacked love. He was loved, and he loved back. He loved his father, his mother, his brothers, his sister, his grandfather, his uncle (uncles, sometimes, but he didn’t see Fëanáro much. He was still cool, in Finrod’s eyes. He always received little gifts from his uncle when he visited. It was a little secret between them, because for some reason, Fëanáro didn’t want Arafinwë to know. Finrod thought it funny, because Arafinwë was aware, but pretended he didn’t.) loved him back.

However, as he turned around five (in men years), he noticed something. His father kissed his mother and looked at her with Starry Eyes. His uncles all looked at his aunts like that too, Uncle Fëanáro with Aunt Nerdanel and Uncle Ñolofinwë with Aunt Anairë. He saw teenagers do that, too. And he didn’t understand. Why did they do that? It was so weird!

So he asked his mother and she replied something that didn’t make sense at the time. She said : “People kiss each other and look at each other with ‘Starry Eyes’ because they love each other, dear.” Finrod looked at her dubiously. What did she mean, ‘It’s because they love each other’! Finrod loved his brothers, but that didn’t mean he looked at them with Starry Eyes and kissed them on the mouth!

It was when he turned ten (in men years), that he understood what his mother had meant. He was with his family at a banquet organized by his grandfather Finwë. For once, miraculously everyone was getting along, and then, he saw her. Seated between a teenager Makalaurë and a small Turcafinwë, sat the most beautiful girl Finrod had ever seen. She had long silver hair, just like Lady Míriel (Finwë kept her portrait in his study) and gray eyes like Fëanáro. To be honest, she was the perfect replica of Lady Míriel, but with Finwë’s eyes.

Finrod felt his face get hot, before he averted his eyes. But then, he found his eyes drawn back to her. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Finrod didn’t understand at the time why he felt so drawn to her. She was just a normal girl! But that was where he was wrong, because she was the only daughter of Fëanáro. And it was well known that his children are everything but ‘normal’.

He stole glances at her, greedily looking at her eyes and hair and cheeks and smile and- everything. He looked at her everything and felt weird inside.His heart thumped loudly and his stomach felt like it was dancing. He wondered why he was feeling this way.. It was then that they made eye contact. Gray eyes meeting blue ones, holding each other, drowning in each other.

Later on, when Finrod grew restless of sitting and listening to the adults talk about boring things, he got up and went to the gardens. The cool night air was like a balm to his still hot cheeks. He looked towards Telperion, sighing as he felt tiredness come over him. Normally, he’d be in bed by now. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy he could stay up late, but he really wished they were back home. He missed the feeling of the ocean breeze on his skin and the salty air. At the same time, he felt overjoyed at seeing his grandfather and Tirion again. The city was wonderful and a delight to his eyes. Art was everywhere and people were kind.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the most beautiful voice he had ever heard (after Kanafinwë’s, of course, but not that he’d ever admit it).

“Hello!”

Finrod whirled around, cheeks heating up as he saw her.

“H-Hi!” He replied, his eyes widening as she smiled at him.

“You’re my cousin Findaráto, right?” She asked, her eyes twinkling in the silvery light of Telperion.

“Uh, yes!” Finrod stuttered out, feeling nervous for.. some reason. She smiled at him, extending her hand.

“I’m Mairafinwë. Pleasure to meet you!” She said and he shook her hand. Mairafinwë… The name was exactly like her : beautiful, graceful, a joy to look at..

~~~

Since that night, Finrod found himself visiting Mairafinwë often : he had gained a friend. She was funny, witty, calm and talented. Their beautiful friendship blossomed and they became closer.

“Don’t move!” Mairafinwë tsked, frowning a bit at Finrod. He sighed, going back into his original position.

It had been two years since they had met and Mairafinwë had invited Finrod over at her father’s house. After talking for a few hours, she had proposed to sculpt him. Finrod, overjoyed, had agreed. Mairafinwë was good with her hands, he had seen the sculptures she made. Of course they were pretty, she learned from the best : her mother, Nerdanel. What he didn’t expect was that it would take so long to sculpt him.

He squirmed in his seat again, admiring Mairafinwë as she worked. The light that came in by the tall windows caressed her skin, making her look softer than normal. Her long silver hair was thrown up into a bun as she worked diligently, frowning in concentration. She kind of looked like Fëanáro when she was working : the same frown, the same twitch of the lips, the same analyzing eyes.

“Can we take a break?” Finrod said, sighing. Mairafinwë looked up and Finrod’s heart skipped a beat or two, his cheeks darkening. She sighed, putting down her tools.

“Alright, alright. We’ll take a break.” She said, smiling. She was as beautiful as always and Finrod found himself unable to look away from her.

When she took his hand and giggled as she dragged him outside, he thought he understood what his mother had meant all those years ago.

~~~

Finrod knew that Mairafinwë was older than him, of course. It wasn’t by that much, but it frustrated him to no end when people whispered that he looked like a lost puppy following her around. He was fifteen (in men years)! It wasn’t fair that people thought he wasn’t deserving of her!

Finrod had recognized that he liked Mairafinwë, maybe even loved her. He hadn’t done anything about it, yet. He was determined to court and woo her properly, but he didn’t have the right ideas at the time.

He almost had a heart attack when Nelyafinwë and Kanafinwë approached him with matching grins. They were usually the ones who were the most respectful and didn’t throw pranks, so to see them approaching him like that, he knew that something was going to happen.

Finrod wanted the ground to open up and swallow him when they told him that they knew he liked their sister. However, he perked right up and all his embarrassment was forgotten when they gave him a list of things Mairafinwë found romantic and liked to do that they had roped Turcafinwë into getting for them. He thanked them profusely, before having the scare of his life when their expressions turned grim.

“We support you courting our sister, Findaráto, but listen to my words and listen well.” Maedhros started.

“If we find out you broke her heart, for whatever reason it is, you will pay.” He said, a frown etched on his handsome face.

“Are we clear?” Maglor’s ethereal voice sounded stern.

“Yeah, of course!” Finrod said, a bit fearful. He almost had whiplash from how fast their demeanours changed as their expressions turned happy once more. Maedhros clapped him on the shoulder, smirking.

“Good luck.” He said before they left him with his thoughts.

~~~

Finrod had successfully started to court Mairafinwë. Dates had been arranged and he was happy, and so was she. The threshold of hand-holding had been passed and they spent more and more time together, almost attached at the hip.

Everything was going well. Too well.

That’s why Finrod wasn’t all that surprised when one day, returning from a date with Mairafinwë, his uncle Fëanáro approached him, saying he wanted to speak to him.

Seated in his uncle’s office, Finrod felt a bit fearful. He knew that his uncle was extremely protective of his children, everyone knew that. Fëanor looked at him pensively, saying nothing and making Finrod squirm under his intense gaze.

“Findaráto..” Fëanor started, making Finrod gulp as he tried to calm his heartbeat, his nervousness making his palm sweaty.

“Yes?” Finrod said, cursing in his head as his voice came out weak. His uncle gently smiled at him, making him calm down a little.

“Mairafinwë has told me that you have been courting for some time now.” Fëanor said, making Finrod nod in acquiescence.

“She loves you. Very much. It is.. clear that she has fallen head over heels for you. I want you to know, first and foremost, that I support this courting.” Fëanor said, tilting his head. Hearing those words made Finrod significantly calm down, his tense posture relaxing.

“Mairafinwë is someone who loves with all of her being. She is.. she is extremely like my mother in this way.” Fëanor whispered this part, his gaze turning longing for a second.

“I want to know if you love her. As in, you won’t want to leave her side in a century or two. You two are young, and there is plenty of time to grow and mature. These feelings you have for each other may change and that is alright. But I want to know now if you think it might happen.” His uncle said, making Finrod shake his head rapidly.

“No. I.. I love her. With all of my fëa. I think.. no, I know she is the one.” Finrod said, making his uncle’s lips twitch upwards. Fëanor hummed.

“In that case, I want you to know that I entrust my daughter’s heart to you. Be careful : it is delicate and bruises easily.” Finrod nodded seriously, relief washing over him as his uncle gave him his blessing to court Mairafinwë.

“However, I want you to know that if I find out you have not been treating her with the respect or adoration she deserves, or that you have made her sad, there will be consequences.” Fëanor said, a small smile on his lips to soften his words. Finrod nodded again.

That day, he left Fëanor’s mansion happy, for he had gotten his blessing.

~~~

It was a month later that Finrod kissed Mairafinwë for the first time. It was magical : something that made him feel whole in a sense and that made him giddy to think about. They laid underneath a tree on the grass, their fingers intertwined.

“I love you, Mairafinwë. I love you a lot. I… I wanted to know if you.. If you’d like to..” Finrod hadn’t thought about how he would ask her to become a couple. Well, he had, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The words were all wrong in his mouth and his mind worked faster than ever to find the right words.

Mairafinwë gently put her hand on his cheek, her plump lips turning up into a smile.

“Take your time, Findaráto. I’m not going anywhere.” She softly said with that magnificent voice of hers.

“I-… would you like to.. to become a couple?” Finrod asked, almost wincing at his clumsy words. In his mind, he had imagined asking her poetically with a grand romantic gesture. Still, Mairafinwë smiled gently at him, her pretty eyes twinkling with happiness.

“I would love to.” She responded, making Finrod nearly bowl over with relief. He smiled at her and she smiled back. And he understood. He understood what his mother had meant.

When she kissed him, he felt his stomach dance and his cheeks become hot and thought : ‘How I love her..’

End notes : I hope you enjoyed! I have one story and some headcannons in the work, so I should post more often! <3

@theladyvanya @koyunsoncizeri

[ayaosguqin]

In the embrace of my shoulder, let your worries fade into oblivion.

[lovefairymina]

Finrod I like it when you put your mouth all over me 😏

“I will never understand your obsession with my mouth along with me biting you,” Finrod chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered. “But allow me to continue pleasing you,” before pressing a gentle kiss followed by a soft nibble to your neck.

[caliawen]

Jealousy

Pairing = none (hints of Finrod x Mairafinwë (OC)

Genre = General audiences

General ratings = angst & fluff

Content warnings = insecurities

Word count = 1,2k

Notes = Day 3 of @tolkienfamilyweek ! The prompt was ‘extended family’. Hope you enjoy!

When Artanis was born, people were awed at her resemblance to her grandmother, Indis. The same blond wavy hair, the same pale skin, the same blue eyes and heart shaped mouth. She was a beauty to behold and she knew it - was proud of it, even. But as she grew older, her ears started to bleed from comments made.

Mairafinwë was older. More mature. She looked like a carbon copy of Míriel Therindë, with Finwë’s eyes. The people who disliked (even hated, sometimes) Indis loved her. She was the reminder of the First Queen of the Noldor, and for some, the only one. Pale gray eyes, straight silver hair, a lovely smile blessing her face, Mairafinwë was considered the exemple. The one who elleth wished to be.

Artanis hated her. Hated how people compared her to her older cousin, how no matter what she did, some people prefered Mairafinwë over her. She was in a competition with someone who always won and she hated losing.

For a time, she found comfort in Írissë. They bonded over the feeling of not being enough in society’s eyes compared to their elder cousin. No matter what they did, people somehow thought Mairafinwë would have been better. She was older. Wittier. Prettier. At least, that was what people whispered.

But then, Artanis found herself alone again. Because when the first place of the competition is already taken, people look to the second one. And so, people began comparing her to Írissë. Artanis was witier, but Írissë funnier. Artanis was studious, but Írissë more carefree. Artanis stopped talking to Írissë. She hung out with her brothers or small group of friends, quietly drowning in her jealousy when Mairafinwë walked in the room and all eyes would turn towards her.

She was mortified when her father heard her complaining to one of her friends that people loved Mairafinwë more than her. He consoled her. Told her that yes, Mairafinwë was pretty, but that did not mean that she was lacking. It was simply because Mairafinwë went more outside to help her people, that she was the daughter of Fëanáro that she was more popular.

Artanis couldn’t help but wonder if people would have liked her more if she was her uncle’s daughter. Maybe then people would have talked about her in time with Mairafinwë. About how the two sisters were pretty equally, and witty too. She cried a bit that night, hating how emotional she was being.

~~~

Artanis and Írissë rekindled later on. It was awkward at first, the both of them unwilling to admit that they had let random ellon and elleth break their friendship apart. Instead of seeing Írissë as competition, Artanis saw her lovely cousin. The one who was beautiful, yes, but untamed and unapologetic. The one she became friends with years ago.

When Írissë came to her, looking like she had done something wrong, Artanis was intrigued. Her cousin was not often apologetic. Artanis understood why very quickly.

“I’m telling you, she is quite lovely.. she… I don’t know, she’s kind and collected and she enjoys joking around! I-.. we’re friends..” said Írissë about Mairafinwë, wringing her hands as she had trouble putting her thoughts into words.

“Friends? With her?” Artanis replied, betrayal crossing her face. Mairafinwë had always seemed mean to her, as she never did anything to stop people from comparing her to her cousins.

“Artanis… she.. she is-.. I met her some time ago and she was really kind, you know? I mean, I was really mean towards her, because I didn’t like her, but she was still calm and generous with her compliments! She said-“ Írissë choked on her emotions, her eyes becoming flooded with tears. “She said I was one of the most beautiful elleth she had ever seen. That- that my personality was refreshing.”

Írissë’s eyes begged Artanis to understand.

Artanis tried. She really did.

But she couldn’t.

~~~

Artanis spent her days in her home, sadness clinging to her like a leech. Her family did everything they could to cheer her up, in vain. She missed Írissë and yet, she could not go past the feeling of betrayal. She did not know what to do anymore. On top of that, Finrod was spending less and less time with her, preferring to go somewhere else, with someone else. He did not even tell her who it was that was stealing her brother away.

~~~

Artanis swore her heart broke when she saw that Finrod was walking hand-in-hand with Mairafinwë. He beamed at her as she laughed, her laugh sounding prettier than a bird’s song. First her best friend, now her oldest brother? Why did everyone prefer Mairafinwë over her? Why was she not enough? What did her cousin have that she didn’t?

Sadness was an emotion that Artanis was uncomfortable with. She didn’t like feeling her sadness. And so, sadness transformed into anger. Anger at Mairafinwë, for stealing everyone she loved away. Anger at Írissë and Findaráto for letting her. Anger at herself for not seeing it sooner.

Later on, when Findaráto left Mairafinwë to go back home, Artanis came out of her hiding spot to march towards her cousin. Mairafinwë looked at her surprised, but strangely, still smiled at her. Artanis was fuming.

“Who do you think you are?” Artanis started, emotions making her forget the speech she had prepared some time ago.

“Excuse me? I’m not sure I follow you-“

“Why do you want to make me miserable? Why are you trying to steal everyone I have, huh? I really don’t understand why people like you, you-you’re…!” Artanis said, stopping herself from insulting Mairafinwë as she noticed the compassionate look on her cousin’s face.

“Artanis.” Mairafinwë started, and something in her gentle voice made the blond calm down slightly.

“I am not trying to make you miserable. I am not trying to ‘steal’ anyone from you, and I am deeply sorry if I came across that way. I’ve heard from Írissë that people compare me to you often.” Artanis winced at the last sentence, a bit embarrassed but not really knowing why.

“That is unacceptable. You know, I was just like you once. I know how you feel.” She said, making Artanis frown. Mairafinwë smiled slightly at her cousin, taking her hand in hers.

“I see that you don’t believe me. Let me explain. I sculpt, just like my mother. In my debuts, people would often compare my work to my mother’s, saying that hers was better. Objectively, I knew they were right, but it still hurt. No matter how much I improved, my mother’s works were always better, prettier, more well done. And I began to resent my ammë for that. I felt guilty, though, for it was not her fault. She came to me one evening, tears in her eyes. Asked me why I never talked to her anymore. And I felt ashamed of myself. I explained everything that weighed on my heart, and she understood. From then on, anyone that compared my work to hers was banned from ever coming back to see our work.” Mairafinwë said, sometimes squeezing Artanis’ hand.

“I know it’s not exactly the same situation, but I think it’s the same moral. You shouldn’t let others’ mean comments bring you down, but if they still do, communicate. I’ve made it clear that it was abhorrent to compare me to you in such ways. I do not know you well, Artanis, but that doesn’t mean I wish for you to suffer.”

Artanis choked back a sob, willing the tears in her eyes to go back where they had come from. It was… reassuring in a way, to hear that Mairafinwë understood. She smiled at her older cousin, squeezing her hand.

It was the start of a friendship.

End notes : Reblogs and likes are always immensely appreciated!

[aknelimdoogladania]

Accurate

A guide to identify silmarillion blondes (I know I didn't include everyone and this isn't precise it's a joke okay)

[admirableringmaker]

mairon, is it true you’re afraid of arafinwe? :3

"I am not afraid of elves who hide in Valinor. Don't be ridiculous."

[erendur]

The Gil-Galad choice

You know the Peredhil choice ?

Well, let's imagine that in light of a. his dubious parentage (somebody somewhere must know the truth, but they won't tell) and b. his long and honourable service as High King of the Noldor and also c. his heroic deeds, a reembodied Gil-Galad is also given a choice : he gets to choose to which branch of the Finwean family he is going to officially belong.

So one sunny day in Tirion (they are all sunny, it's Valinor and it's boring, but they have chosen that particular day so), all assemble in the grand public square in the middle of the city, in which Prince Fëanáro had once memorably threatened his brother Prince Ñolofinwë with a sword and on another occasion called the Noldor to rebellion and also sworn an Oath (nothing much happened there after that), to hear the head of each of the three Houses of the Sons of King Finwë present to Gil-Galad their arguments as to why he should chose them.

The current King of the Noldor, Arafinwë, goes first.

He is feeling a bit light-headed and jittery, because the poor guy has been in charge of what was left of the Noldor after the departure of the exiles, had to manage the de-Fëanárification process (see there), the tense relations with the Vanyar (while being himself part-Vanyar - awkward), the even more tense relations with the Falmari (his wife is a Falmar - awkward doesn't even start to cover it), and as if that wasn't enough has also had to manage the thickening stream of reembodied Noldor coming back to Valinor over the centuries - and these guys range from the frankly annoying (won't shut up about their war exploits, sing inappropriate songs in public, have adopted weird, Avarin/Mannish ways) to the downright terrifying (you'd think the reembodied Fëanorians and you wouldn't be wrong, but Arafinwë is particularly appalled by the crazed look in the eyes of some of his son Finrod's followers).

In short, the only reason why Arafinwë hasn't had a burn-out yet is because it's technically impossible in Valinor, and his body is betraying him by holding on. He sees a vague window of opportunity there : maybe Gil-Galad will want the crown ???? And will manage the Noldor for him ??? After all a lot of the recent arrivals are his people !!!! And Arafinwë can take his wife to the sea-side (away from any Falmari settlement) and have a good 500 (Valian)year-long nap !!!!!

"Oh, wise Gil-Galad, the echoes of your wisdom and of your proud and determined leadership of our people have of course made their way to us..." Arafinwë starts.

Gil-Galad immediately takes three steps back. He knows the over-eager look in Arafinwë's eye. He's been fooled once. He won't be fooled twice. He is staying the hell out of crown-throwing distance.

"And, er, I would be honoured and proud to count you as a member of my House, where your, er, wise advice ? Would be most appreciated", Arafinwë keeps plodding on, the light in his eyes going progressively duller and duller as Gil-Galad's gaze remains stubbornly fixed somewhere in the general distance and his facial expression carefully arranged in a polite not-on-your-life expression.

"My son Felagund and his wife Amarië would be most eager to welcome you among us as well", here Arafinwë points in the general direction of what looks like a tall mound of golden hair and jewellery, topped with a couple of live snakes, that on closer inspection reveals itself to be a smiling Findaráto.

He waves enthusiastically in the direction of Gil-Galad. His equally golden-haired and bejewelled wife does the same. They both wear late-Númenorean fashion (as in, the latest in Númenorean fashion before the boats stopped going there) which, to Valinorean eyes, make them look like the equivalent of pot-smoking hippies, but their friendly appearance is canceled out by the feral looks of Felagund's followers, all of them dressed in some form of forest/jungle tactical camouflage, some with added wolf pelts, others with live poison-dart frogs jumping on their shoulders (and hair accessories that look suspiciously like darts), and with facial expressions worthy of later-stages Fëanorians (they've seen the darkness. They liked it). Gil-Galad waves back weakly.

"And, er, you might also have heard of my sons Angaráto and Aikanáro ?" Arafinwë continues in an even more depressed voice than before.

Two buff-looking golden-haired Elves, one vaguely fiery-looking, wave in Gil-Galad's direction. They look nice and fierce but he has literally zero idea who they are. Still, he waves back a bit more enthusiastically. "And of course, you know well my daughter, Artanis", finishes Arafinwë, a bit more enthusiastically.

Gil-Galad gives a little shudder there. He does know her well indeed.

Arafinwë goes back to his seat, looking like he needs a nap more than ever. His wife gives him a sympathetic look. Looks like today is another day he won't manage to get rid of that damn crown.

Ñolofinwë stands up next.

He's a bit the worse for wear (for an Elf) because the night before was the Crossing of the Ice evening, a bi-weekly event during which veterans of the crossing of the Helcaraxë meet up to commemorate the crossing of the Ice (they trade anecdotes in a loud voice, sing in an even louder one, drink a lot and sometimes cross the ice over the Tirion river when they have managed to pester a Maia enough that they have conjured up some - not to be mistaken with the Dagor Aglareb night, a weekly event commemorating the Dagor Aglareb, during which they trade anecdotes in a loud voice, sing in an even louder one and drink a lot, or the Siege of Angband night, a weekly event commemorating the Siege of Angband, during which they trade anecdotes in a loud voice, sing in an even louder one and drink a lot - all of which celebrations end up in the small hours of the morning when a very tired-looking Arafinwë, cloak hastily thrown over his nightclothes, drags himself out of bed to politely ask them to go home). Ñolofinwë is very bored to have nothing much to do after having been High King for so long, and therefore consistently organises attends every single one of these celebrations.

"My dear chum", Ñolofinwë starts in a booming voice that fails to be entirely patronising only because it is still slightly hoarse from the recent celebrations, "I think you and I will see eye to eye. You know, of course, of my own paltry feats of arms."

Here Ñolofinwë stops to let off a short, self-deprecating laugh, which, like the word "chum", he thinks makes him look likeable and approachable by the common Noldorin soldier.

"How I lead my people through the dangers and harshness of the Helcaraxë, how I was unanimously chosen as the leader of my people, how I came up with the idea of, and maintained, the siege of Angband against impossible odds, how I and my people won the glorious Dagor Aglareb, how I personally challenged the Enemy in a single duel and gave him wounds from which he suffers to this day."

At that point almost every member of the assistance that is not a close personal follower of Ñolofinwë is rolling their eyes. Yes, he has been a very heroic Elf, but hearing about it non-stop for an entire Age and a half has kind of worn everybody's patience out (especially hearing about it sung at the top of some very drunk Elf-lords' lungs in the small hours of the morning).

Gil-Galad looks a bit taken aback by the familiarity of the tone (NO ONE has ever called him "chum" in his life before - and he's been patronised aplenty in the Second Age by the superb Númenorean descendants of Elros, the half-feral Peredhel whose education he'd thankfully considerably polished before he became the first King of Númenor).

"You've also heard, no doubt, about the deeds of my son, Findekáno, who would give you a warm welcome among our family and join his voice to mine to express how much in your environment a renowned warrior like you would be among us, if he could."

There's a slightly awkward silence there. Everybody knows that unlike his Father, Findekáno doesn't like to hear, and much less talk, about anything that happened in Beleriand, and furthermore suffers from severe agoraphobia due to the manner of his demise, hence his absence from the city square on that day.

"But my son Arakáno is here ! And you know of course of his deeds in Lammoth !"

A tall, dark-haired, stern-looking Elf nods slightly in Gil-Galad's direction. Never much one for smiling, he always looks particularly sour on the days after the bi-weekly Crossing the Ice celebrations, for some reason (his father has never managed to figure out why).

"And, er, my daughter Írissë is also...there", Ñolofinwë adds, a bit falteringly, his eyes scanning the crowd until they finally manage to locate his daughter - Oh, Eru - in the middle of the scant Fëanorian crowd, a smirk on her lips as she sits provocatively on her cousin Tyelkormo's lap, clad in her usual all-white hunting outfit.

She raises her eyebrows and waves at her father, then at Gil-Galad, who does his best not to stare. Oh, dear.

"And my son Turukáno has also made us the welcome surprise to get out of his house and join us today", adds Ñolofinwë acidly. "He is of course the grandfather of the hero Eärendil, as well as the great-grandfather of the first King of Númenor and, er, your former herald, Eirinion", he concludes with more warmth.

Gil-Galad waves at a slightly embarrassed-looking Turukáno, a tight smile on his lips. Elrond is of course his dearest, closest friend, and he has some fond memories of Elros of course, but both of them, and principally the former, are the main reason why his hair went prematurely silver, and responsible for enough headaches over the course of an Age that he had worry lines etched onto his face pre-reembodiment, and while he loves them very much he does not much fancy getting into an even closer relationship with them.

Ñolofinwë sits back down next to his wife, and it's now the turn of the Fëanorians to present their case. Of course, their very presence in the city square on that day has been frowned upon - they rarely leave their settlement of Formenos, much to everyone's delight, and the very idea that they could have a right to present their claim has raised many eyebrows. But they don't have peace and reconciliation processes and committees for nothing, and Manwë had ruled that they should have the right to present their case as well as the others.

It's a surprisingly sprightly-looking Maitimo that jumps to his feet to speak in the name of his House. His father, while reembodied, has been confined to an uninhabited region North of Formenos, where he lives alone with his wife (in between visits from their children and grandchild), who voluntarily decided to accompany him, and spends his days between working in his ever-sprawling forge and trying to convince his wife to have an eighth child (he is nowhere nearer to winning that argument than since he'd started it a few hundred years prior), and never comes to Tirion (Ñolofinwë is half-relieved, half-sad - and bored).

"Eirinion, I have been charged today by my brother Curufinwë, King of the Noldor of Formenos, to convey an invitation to come and reside there as a member of our family, which his official duties sadly prevent him from delivering in person." Maitimo smirks there.

The reason his brother Curufinwë, King of the Noldor of Formenos (the crown has be attributed on a "Oh, you wanted a crown, didn't you ??? Well, here's one ! Be my guest ! YOU are in charge of that troop of bloodthirsty crazy lunatics now !" basis) is unable to attend the meeting is because the Valar have strictly forbidden for the Noldor of Formenos (read : hardcore Fëanorians) to be left unattended at any time, and Curufinwë, as the one in charge, has therefore to remain there. He is also barred from public speaking. And the toilet in the public square of Formenos was clogged (it's part of his kingly duties to take care of it).

"Now, we might not have almost-met under the most auspicious of circumstances back in Beleriand. And the actions of my family and my faction have been indefensible," he pauses long enough to glare at the small group of Fëanorians at his back, daring them to make a protest. No one seems particularly inclined to.

"So of course, we don't have much to offer to tempt you to join us. What do we have, indeed ? A far-out of the way, small settlement, in which people mostly mind their own business. Nothing much to do there, except try on my father's latest inventions, which do not always work at the first try - it took him two goes to get the electricity working in the whole of Formenos, and that revolutionary de-greying hair product he invented was very underwhelming at first. I'm not going to lie, there is no chance that you would ever get any sort of political responsibilities, or even be asked for advice there - my brother Curunfinwë is 100% in sole charge there of dealing with each and any problem that arises, with additional help from my brother Tyelkormo. I - I mean, the Valar, - insist on it. As for grand celebrations of our proud military past, or any current martial activities, you can well imagine that they are entirely out of the question there. There is actually a ban on them."

Maitimo pauses there for a second, deep in thought. "Of course, you also have probably formed a very poor opinion of us, based on the Peredhil situation. Know that we tried our best. All I can say is that they used to bite even more."

He pauses again, and gives Gil-Galad a wry smile. Gil-Galad shudders for the second time on that day.

"What else could I add ?" One of his brothers stands up and whispers something in his ear.

"Oh yes, and Moryo makes THE BEST cookies."

[kai-janik-art]

Findaráto (2024)

Watercolour

He's trying to be serious in his official portrait but there's still a hint of a smile breaking through. I imagined a young Findaráto, wearing lots of pearls and sea foam inspired clothing. I chose green for the jewels because the ring of Barahir had green jewels.

My friend wrote a lovely poem about the painting here:

[doot-boi]

You're so goddamn RIGHT

HE WALKS WITH HIS FATHER BENEATH THE TREES IN ELDAMAR

I AM FERAL FOR HIM

i can't keep living like this. my GUY

[lovefairymina]

*smacks Finrods ass hard and loudly in front of his court* GAH-DAYUM. *snickers and attempts to run away*

His hands flew to his mouth to swallow the squeak and his eyes became saucers as he swivelled around in a frenzy intending to scold. “Y/N!” he yelled as you scampered off, leaving him flustered and shuffling his hands to consciously cover his butt. He was ashamed to make eye contact with any of his officials, for they were astonished at the scene.