#finwe x indis x miriel

[imakemywings]

Hello! For the femslash requests could I ask for Míriel/Indis in a Sleeping Beauty type situation? No problem if you're not feeling it or want to do something completely different with them. Love you and your fics!💚

I felt like this fairy tale actually works SO well with the canon story of Mirie!

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Pairing: Indis/Miriel, Finwe/Indis/Miriel (et al.)

Summary: Indis yearns to stir the sleeping queen of the Noldor.

This also fills the "First Kiss" and "Polyamory" squares of Fellowship of the Fics' Pride Month Bingo.

AO3 | Pillowfort | SWG

To Call You Home

            Once upon a time, the queen of the Noldor pricked her finger on a spindle. Queen Míriel was a mighty weaver, such that she was called by the Noldor Serindë, the Broidress, for it was not merely in creation alone in which she reveled. The mind of Queen Míriel had devised many a new technique for the making of cloths more subtle and beautiful and durable than had been before, and so the Noldor took great pride in their clever queen.

            But as has been said, on a time she was sitting at her spindle, weaving thread for she desired it of a particular hue and strength for a project of her own and so she would not barter for it in town, and she pricked her finger.

            The queen had lately borne the only child of the royal family: little Finwë, called so after his father, and who was named by Queen Míriel Fëanor, “spirit of fire,” for even in infancy the strength of his mind and body was evident. In fact it was said that Míriel had given overmuch of her own strength into the child, so that she waned after his birth, and thus when she pricked her finger, she felt into a swoon as if dead.

            She was found on the floor by a maid, who rushed for the king with a wail, and he gathered her up straightaway and took her to their chambers, where he laid her abed and prayed to Ilúvatar for her recovery, thinking then that it was only a strange but temporary illness which had taken her. King Finwë gathered to her all the healers of Tirion, but none of them could summon the queen’s spirit back into her body. Similarly ineffective were the efforts of the healers of the Vanyar and of the Teleri.

            Sitting by her bedside, Finwë kissed her and begged for her return, but unavailing were his pleas, and the child wanted tending. Therefore at great length and with reluctance beyond measure, Finwë removed Queen Míriel up into a tower which overlooked the mountains around the city, where she laid undisturbed.

            Great reward, riches beyond measure, and unending gratitude did Finwë promise any who could come and rouse Míriel from her endless sleep. The Elves were ever curious of mind, and many came with notions and hypotheses about how to restore her, but none succeeded. As Fëanor grew, Míriel slept.

            Years on the king wore his braids still short in mourning, and at that time came to the Noldor royal palace Indis, a lady of the Vanyar who had made the Great Journey to Aman. She was a hobbyist academic of sorts, concerned with the potential for others to succumb to Míriel’s fate, and begged leave to study the queen’s condition that it might be ameliorated, or at least prevented in others. Initially reluctant, King Finwë permitted Indis to dwell in the palace, desiring that no others should experience his family’s tragedy.

Many months stayed she in Tirion, though she was unsuccessful in learning much of Míriel’s condition. But amid his grief Finwë heard the song of Indis, who had long loved him in silence from afar, and from sorrow his heart turned to her. Against the wishes of Prince Fëanor, by then more than half grown, and in light of the inability, it seemed, of any to stir Míriel, they were wed.

***

            Once upon a time, the queen of the Noldor fell in love. Long had Indis loved Finwë, seemingly to no purpose, but while her heart was so occupied, she would not take another. No desire had she to be seen taking advantage of the king’s mourning, yet when she heard the tale of Queen Míriel, called Serindë, her curiosity was powerfully awakened. She took to the study of medicinal arts, and attended to the tales of those who had sought to heal the Noldorin queen. When years had passed with no change, Indis could contain her curiosity no longer: she journeyed to Tirion to face Finwë and ask if she might study Míriel.

             The king was reluctant to allow anyone else to poke and prod at Míriel by the time Indis arrived, particularly one who made no claims to be able to heal her, but Indis’ care swayed him and he took her up to Míriel’s tower, where she observed the sleeping queen. Indis had seen the dead and dying, for there had been not a few on the journey to the Blessed Realm in which they dwelled, but Míriel seemed to her as one sleeping, waiting to be woken.

            Indis set with dedication to studying Míriel’s condition—examining the body, and the spindle at which she had first collapsed, and questioning the family and staff who answered with the rote dullness of those who had answered such questions many times—but no answers did she find.

            No solutions to Míriel’s condition did she discover—but something else, even less expected, did occur: Finwë grew to love her. More at ease did he become over Indis’ months, drawing slowly into years, of study, and they began to walk in the garden and speak of other things, and the shadow seemed to fade from his face. Indis was therefore filled with joy, if she yearned still for a way to cure Míriel, and when Finwë proposed the notion of their marriage to her, she gladly accepted.

            Long enough had she dwelled in the palace at Tirion that it was reassuringly familiar when she entered it for the first time as the queen of the Noldor. There were many who were relieved at this, for the uncertainty surrounding Míriel unsettled them, but there were plenty others who muttered in discontent about the impropriety, and Finwë’s son among them.

            Indis went on studying Míriel, though she had lost any faint hopes of curing her.

            The evidence of Míriel’s brilliance lay all about the palace, in her tapestries and clothes; in the tools of sewing and weaving that populated Noldorin tailor shops and dressmakers’ studios; and in the genius of her son, who was like his father in face but had entirely his mother’s spirit. Indis sought out the creations of Míriel, and observed them with awe, and the only polite conversations which Prince Fëanor would deign to have with her were to tell her of Míriel’s works.

            Indis was not a great artist, and her abilities lay more in the realm of arranging than of making. The rooms of the palace which had remained untouched since the seeming-death of Míriel she redecorated, and they were pleasing to the eye and to the mind. Even Míriel’s tapestries she removed to clean and store, and replaced them with others of Míriel’s prolific oeuvre.

            “Is it not pleasant, to see more of her works?” she asked her husband cheerfully when he observed with some unease this change. Nevertheless he agreed, and deferred to Indis’ choices.

            In simpler times, it had pleased Finwë to throw grand parties with much feasting and many guests, but it had been long since such merriment had filled the house. Now he began to fret that Fëanor had grown too long in a house gone quiet in mourning, and the happiness in which he dwelt with Indis rekindled in him the desire for festivities. So the king and queen together planned and hosted a particularly lavish party, the first occasion for many to meet their new queen in person.

            Indis had great delight in the event, for many of her friends arrived from Valmar, and many friends among the Noldor she met that night. Nevertheless, in her nerves over her potential reception by the Noldor, she imbibed quite a bit, and while Finwë was bidding a good night to the last of their guests, she stole up Míriel’s tower.

            There she sat on the floor beside Míriel’s bed and took her hand. So much of Indis’ time of the last several years had been devoted to studying this woman that it felt impossible for her not to consider Míriel also a part of the new family which Indis had chosen. Therefore, it seemed appropriate to share with Míriel the news of what had transpired, and once Indis began to talk with Míriel, she found she did not wish to stop. A part of her was convinced Míriel could hear her and that it would be unkind not to speak with her.

            Thus it came to pass that Indis began to regularly visit Míriel, not to any medical or scientific purpose, but merely to converse and to gaze upon her placid face and shapely hands. Indis began to feel that they knew one another, and in her heart she envisioned Míriel as a friend—or even a part of her marriage with Finw�� (though this she seldom dared to even think to herself but to brush off as a fanciful jest). Convinced that others would not understand, Indis kept these meetings from the rest of the palace. But in her familiarity, Indis grew careless with her half-hearted secrecy, and this was how Finwë came upon her one day in Míriel’s tower, seated on the edge of the bed, stroking Míriel’s hair.

            Now Finwë was not given to quick anger nor to the bearing of grudges, but the thought of anyone disturbing Míriel’s body when she was so helpless put him at once in a wrath, and even as he opened his mouth to command Indis away from Míriel’s bed, she bent and pressed her mouth to Míriel’s in a tender kiss. There was a sigh, which Finwë and Indis both took to be Indis, until Míriel’s eyes opened.

***

            Once upon a time, two queens of the Noldor spoke, one to the other. For months Indis came to Míriel, and more vulnerable and open thoughts did she share each time. So often did she think of her confidante beyond the confines of Míriel’s tower that she felt she too, missed the company of this woman she had never known. The more she spoke, the more she anguished over Míriel’s inability to reply; she yearned to hear her voice, to know what Míriel would say to her, rather than merely to imagine.

            “Will you not speak to me, Míriel?” she murmured at the queen’s side, stroking her hair, a loose waterfall of silken silver. “Have I not proven my affections well enough?” She leaned down nearer to Míriel, until her breath whispered over the sleeper’s face. “Will you not grant me just a word? You know not what I would give for that.”

            And then she kissed her, and Míriel woke.

The tower of the queen was gripped in petrifying shock; Míriel gazed in some wonder up at Indis, while Indis and Finwë stared agape at Míriel, who seemed again in full possession of herself as she had not been for near two decades.

            “I have dreamed of you,” said Míriel to Indis. “Though I do not know your name.”

            “My name is Indis,” said she, “and you are Míriel, queen of the Noldor.”

            “Have I known you?” Míriel asked.

            “No,” said Indis. “We spoke not on the walk west; but I saw you with—” Here she blushed and looked askance and saw for the first time Finwë in the door, and there Míriel’s attention went as well. Silence drew out like a cord between she and he, taught and twisting, and then Míriel spoke.

            “I heard you,” she croaked to the man rooted to the floorboards. “You were calling to me.”

            “You did not answer,” said Finwë, and spoke as one feeling an old wound.

            “I…” Now Míriel avoided looking on his face. “I was weak,” she said at last. “I had no strength nor desire to speak.”

            Now they gazed those two on Indis, who burned under the attention.

            “It seemed I was in a fog,” said Míriel. Her delicate brow furrowed, and she struggled, and Indis helped her to sit upright. “There was not light nor sound to lead me from it. When at last I spoke it seemed that I called out to no avail, my words swallowed into the mist. I suppose you had lost hope for me then.” Finwë was stricken, but Míriel went on: “Perhaps this was reasonable. Still, then I dreamed of you,” she said to Indis. She blinked shrewd tawny brown eyes at Indis and asked: “How did you call me back?”

            “I…” Indis’ hands twisted anxiously in her lap, and she blushed, and wished not to be impertinent—but neither did she wish to lie. “With love, I think,” she said softly.

            Then Finwë looked on them with dawning comprehension and he said: “Not one voice, but two, to draw you home.” It seemed to him then that a greater power than chance had led Indis to his house.

            Míriel looked between them and said, her voice hoarse with disuse: “I recognize not this room. Where the devil am I?”

***

            Once upon a time, the throne room of the royal palace of the Noldor was short one chair. Two thrones wrought with all the artistry mustered by that people sat in the airy hall beneath crimson beams and curling rooves, imbued with gems and delicate metalwork décor, and yet these two were not enough.

            So for a time, one ruler of the Noldor was obliged to stand, while the other two set to a great deal of teasing about the immediate state of affairs. (It is said that they delayed in the commissioning of a new triad of thrones—merely to add one more would have thrown off the balance of the room, and so the whole situation necessitated reworking—out of amusement with the shortage, though no confirmation of this can exist.)

            It is hard to accurately convey the level of consternation among the general populace of Tirion as to what precisely their state of government was at this time. It had taken many years after the fainting of Míriel to accept that Finwë might remarry—and even then many had remained opposed, including Finwë’s own heir—and then several years more for the Noldor to become accustomed to Indis—to finally lose the confusion surrounding which individual was being referenced as “the queen”—so then to have both of them standing bright and shining in the place of the king and queen was jarring to say the least.

            The prevailing opinion of the city was that one queen must depart—one or the other would win out in the end. But these opinions were voiced by the ignorant who had not been in Míriel’s tower and knew nothing of the love that bonded the three rulers of Tirion.

            Neither queen departed, and the new thrones were built in time, and in the meanwhile Míriel often reclined out in the gardens, finding that after her long sleep she had more of a craving for treelight and a breeze on her face than ever she had had before. There with her often sat Indis, whose recited poems and sung hymns greatly pleased the Broidress, and if Indis had worried that Míriel would resent the one who had taken her place, those fears were washed away in Míriel’s gratitude for the one who had called her back from darkness, and touched something in Míriel’s heart with her words.

            Thus it was often that Indis would say, in the late hours of Telperion’s waxing, “Are you ready to sleep now?” and Míriel would reply, “Not now, I would have a little while longer.” And Indis would smile with tender delight, and they would stay awake until the fresh mingling of the Trees.

[saintstars]

Wow what a gene pool

see the progeny here

[kaiartx]

my take on miriel, indis and finwe

[overlord-of-fantasy]

Love in Arda

For Valentines day I have multiple cute shipping quotes for you!

Finwe, rushing into the council room: Greetings, sorry I’m late. I was doing a couple of things and got distracted. Miriel, casually walking in after him: I’m “a couple of things”. Indis, following her, grinning: I’m “got distracted”.

Nerdanel, nervously: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time? Feanor, hesitently pulling out his sword: AS ENEMIES?! Nerdanel: ...

Melkor: We’re getting married, bitches! Mairon: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.

Rog: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine. Salgant: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again. Rog: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?? Salgant: Is it working?

Melkor: Hey, what’s up? Manwe, lying in the grass, watching birds: The sky. The eagles. Melkor, rolling his eyes: No, I meant like, what are you doing? Manwe, innocently: Oh, Varda. Varda, over Melkors crying: *highfives Manwe* Nice!

[averagenolofinwean]

Finwe: Honey, would you still love me if I was a worm?

Indis, without hesitating: No. Did you ask the same question to Miriel? Because then it would make much more sense why she chose to stay dead.

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Hey, I just wanted to ask, in the post where you are explaining the ongoings after Míriel’s return, you mentioned that India’s poisoned her, while she was pregnant with Fëanor and so I wanted to ask if you ever mentioned it before and if you could go into more detail with that, because its really an Interesting turn of events. But it also fits in very well.

Have a nice day.

Hello!

so, don't worry, i have not explained it before (though it has been part of the au in my mind for a while)

it basically stems from the idea that the reason miriel died is bc she gave too much of herself to create her son and she had no fae to keep going. bc why would she have to do that? unless there was a danger to the baby that required her to put even more energy and focus on keeping the baby safe.

when i say that Indis poisened her, i mean indis poisened her. as in: did it herself, no middle man. to be fair, the toxin she slipped into her tea was meant to enduce an abortion, but bc miriel did not want to abort, it instead resulted in her death.

as to why: partially jelousy, partially bc miriel really wasn't popular with the elves that liked/loved the valar. it should be noted that the ONLY reason why she even went to valinor was to be with finwe, and the possibility to explore. she didn't actually go bc she really wanted to flee to a safe haven, or bc she actually trusted the valar.

and she was pretty vocal about her distrust for them. she didn't outright scorn them, but she did criticis them where she saw necessary, and you know religious fanatics. that's simply not done. so they saw her as a threat to get rid of, same with the child. and they needed to have sm1 to steer finwe on "the right path". the fact that Indis was genuinly crushing on him was a bonus.

(side note: one of the hallmarks to those belonging to that family (Ingen, Ingwe, Indis, Lasgen, Willow) is the drive to do whatever they need to to get what they want, with no remorse. even if they have to kill for it)

did Miriel know that Indis was poisening her? more or less, she just couldn't really do anything about it bc 1. she was pregnant, so she had to be extra carefull and couldn't risk any further damage to the baby. and 2. the valar and her did not like each other. any accusation she would have made, would have been instantly dismissed. she didn't tell finwe bc she knew he would go ape shit (and she did not need that right now). he did know that something was not right, but once again: he had to move carefully.

basically, it was a combination of politics, as well as the fact that they were subjugated to the valar that ultimately resulted in it going the way it did.

to be clear, i really enjoy Indis being an evil mastermind. like, she went in there full throttle. gotta admire that, even if i don't admire the actions themselves.

of course the valar covered it up bc they "needed" indis to bear her children (BS, in my opinion, because it is precisely the strife caused by the split family that caused so much of the problem in the first place, but the valar are a slut for following the song so)

also, i think the idea that Indis's original goal was to kill feanor, not miriel, makes it extra juice bc it means feanor was really right to be scared of her.

and in this au she tried to assassinate him 3 more times while he was an elfling via "accidents" before she gave birth to nolofinwe. and feanor might not outright know what she did, but she knows that he shouldn't trust her and he should be scared of her.

him treating indis like she would kill him any second of course added more oil on the fire in regards to the sibling's unstable relationship.

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Headcanon that Miriel and Finwe was a lavender wedding but when Elwe went and got bewitched by Melian Miriel said ‘if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it properly’, did it too properly, died, and left Finwe to marry some preppy straight girl to distract himself from the trauma.

[polutrope]

In that evil time Finwë was slain by the Marrer himself, and his body was burned as by lightning stroke and was destroyed. Then Míriel and Finwë met again in Mandos and lo! Míriel was glad of the meeting, and her sadness was lightened; and the will in which she had been set was released.

And when she learned of Finwë all that had befallen since her departure (for she had given no heed to it, nor asked tidings, until then) she was greatly moved; and she said to Finwë in her thought: 'I erred in leaving thee and our son, or at the least in not returning after brief repose; for had I done so he might have grown wiser. But the children of Indis shall redress his errors and therefore I am glad they should have being, and Indis hath my love. How should I bear grudge against one who received what I rejected and cherished what I abandoned. Would that I might set all the Tale of our people and of thee and thy children in a tapestry of many colours, as a memorial brighter than memory! For though I am cut off now from the world, and I accept that Doom as just, I would still watch and record all that befalls those dear to me, and their offspring also. [Added: I feel again the call of my body and its skills.']

History of Middle-earth Vol. X: Morgoth's Ring, The Later Quenta Silmarillion (II), 'Laws and Customs Among the Eldar', Text A.

Women of the Silmarillion in HoMe, part 4/?

[lamemaster]

Marred Music

Request: @liar-anubiass-blogGood day🫶🏻 I hope you are feeling well, congratulations on the upcoming holidays 🎊 Fingolfin/Maiyar reader Ulmo. Timeline before Nolofinae's courtship of Anaire, everyone was just waiting for it to happen, but there had been some kind of strange pause for a long time. And then at one of the dinners where Finwe's entire family was present, Fingolfin finally takes the floor and informs everyone that he is breaking the agreement and will not court Anaire. He says that his heart and mind belong to another. When Finwe wants to object, Fingolfin says that he has already explained to Anaire that he loves another. Everyone is shocked. And then in the silence, the intrigued Feanor (who is delighted with the prospect of conflict) laughs and asks for whom he is trying so hard. Plus or minus so. I hope you can extract something worthwhile from this😅maybe a little drama? Nolofinwe deserves to get a cool Maiar wife and wipe Feanor's nose with this)))

Genre: Drama & angst

Pairing: Fingolfin x Maia Reader

Summary: When he looked up, however, another pair of golden eyes met his own, your eyes. Bright, sharp, and unblinking, they regarded him with an intensity that made him freeze. Startled, he let out a squeal unbecoming of his dignity and very ungracefully tumbled from the tree.

AN: Thank you for requesting this! I love your ask! And Fingolfin over Feanor any day but this one turned out very different (I'm so sorry). But once I started writing there was no stopping so please expect some more chapter ig. First time writing Fingolfin yee-haw

Chapter 1| Chapter 2|

Reader POV

“It is not your fate to be with the second eldest of Finwe,” Namo declares, his voice cold yet resolute, echoing through the desolate halls of his domain. The restless winds swirl around him.

You lower your gaze to the ground. The rippling waves of the lake lap softly at your feet, their touch tender, almost reverent, as though the waters themselves grieve with you for what cannot be undone.

“I understand,” you whisper, though your voice trembles under the weight of the words. Fragile, hollow, they carry a sorrow that coils deep within you. A void left by something Namo has stripped from your soul.

An act you must obey from the words of your lord. An act that was done for the betterment of Arda. Yet, the pain grasps your heart and flows from your eyes. 

How wretched was such affection that had weakened you to a weeping mess. Why had tales of Melian and Elwe not warned you of such an end? Why had you not looked for the tale of Miriel instead? Then perhaps you would have held your heart closer. Away from this misery. 

In the vast, cold expanse of the valley, the only warmth comes from Namo’s hand as it rests lightly on the top of your head. The touch is solemn, neither cruel nor kind, offering comfort even as it deepens the ache in your chest.

You feel your composure unravel, the fragile mask you wore dissolving into a raw sob. A sound that echoes through the stillness, as acute as any note in Ilúvatar’s song.

You sink to your knees, the waters rising to embrace you. Their cool caress mingles with your tears, which fall freely, carried away into the depths.

“What am I to do? What music is this?” The cry bursts forth, anguished and pleading, your voice breaking against the unyielding silence.

Fingolfin POV

He had been but thirty loar of age when he first met you—an ellon barely beyond the years of growth, still enchanted by the orchards of Ingwe, his maternal uncle who ruled the Vanyar.

It had been during one such visit, a special occasion meant to introduce the newborn Findis to the court of the Vanyar. It was a tradition Indis upheld diligently, just as she had for Nolofinwe, and Lalwen before.

Escaping his sister’s relentless questions, Nolofinwe had wandered off, eventually finding himself climbing a peach tree to marvel at a tiny nest perched on the topmost branch.

The cool winds of Taniquetil whispered through the air, mingling with the waning light of Laurelin. Enthralled, he studied the intricate weave of the sparrows’ nest, snugly cradling two eggs amidst scraps of fabric.

When he looked up, however, another pair of golden eyes met his own, your eyes. Bright, sharp, and unblinking, they regarded him with an intensity that made him freeze. Startled, he let out a squeal unbecoming of his dignity and very ungracefully tumbled from the tree.

The fall might have been disastrous. One that would have left his brother Curufinwe in fits of laughter for weeks, had it not been for you. Swiftly, with a fluidity that reminded him of a hawk diving for prey, you caught him mid-fall, your movements swift and precise.

“Stealing younglings is hardly moral,” you chirped. Your head tilted sharply as you studied him, your movements sudden yet graceful, and your golden eyes narrowing in brief suspicion before softening with curiosity.

Nolofinwe barely registered your words. Now that his feet were on the ground, he could only stare at you in wonder.

You stood tall, radiating the ethereal presence of the Ainur. The golden light of Laurelin seemed drawn to you, pooling around your form. To his awestruck eyes, you were wondrously fair, your back graced by wings of a great eagle, folded neatly yet trembling slightly, as though ready to spread and take flight at any moment.

Your sharp nose and piercing gaze of your features- similar to that of the maiar of Manwe. The curious tilt of your head became more pronounced as you stepped closer, your gaze darting over him with a quick, assessing flicker.

“Second-born of Finwe,” you trilled, as though testing the sound. Then, almost imperceptibly, you ruffled your wings, an instinctive motion that made Nolofinwe flinch as though he were being considered for retribution for disturbing the nest.

A newfound interest lit your eyes, the same fascination with which one might observe a fledgling testing its wings. And then without a word you were gone. As if done assessing that Nolofinwe, indeed did not hold any intention to harm the eggs.

From that day forth, eagles became his most cherished beings. A sudden, fervent love for birds blossomed within him. A devotion his maternal uncle wholeheartedly approved, though he never fully grasped its origin.

Beside his bed, a small basket of peaches always rested, their soft fragrance weaving through his room like a whisper of memory. Each breath carried him back to the moments he could not forget the gentle music of your voice, the warmth of your touch, and the majesty of your wings.

To Indis’s great curiosity, peaches became her son’s most beloved fruit. What had once been a passing taste grew into a quiet obsession.

Even the peach orchards of Valinor, which he had rarely noticed before, became his frequent sanctuary, a place where the scent of the trees and the murmur of the breeze spoke to a longing he could never quite explain.

Reader POV

“How is it that Melian came to love Elwe?” you ask Eonwe, who stands vigilant beside you. Your brother, ever steadfast, serves your Vala, the King of Arda, Manwe Sulimo, as you do.

A gentle breeze stirs the air in the halls, coaxing the wayward vines to release their blooms, which fall like whispers to the ground. You watch their descent, lost in thought, as the question lingers between you.

Eonwe turns his gaze toward you, a hint of puzzlement crossing his features. His attention shifts, now entirely on you. He has little fondness for the songs and tales of the Children of Iluvatar, yet even he cannot deny that this particular tale weighs heavy on the memory of most Maiar.

Melian, the first among your kind to forsake the blessed lands of Aman. Hers was a path followed by many, though few remained in Middle-earth as she did.

“Iluvatar revealed a purpose for Melian,” Eonwe replies at last, his voice steady, though touched with reverence. “Their love is woven into the fate of Arda itself. A union that will bring forth the rest of Iluvatar’s music in the days to come.”

“Does Melian love the Firstborn King as we love our lord?” you ask softly, turning to meet his gaze. “Or is hers a love like that of our Lord and Lady? An eternal love.”

Resting his spear against a column of intricately carved marble, Eonwe exhales, his eyes distant as they wander eastward. “Much sorrow will this love cost her,” he murmurs, his tone heavy with foreknowledge. “Yet joy, too, she will find—this, our lord believes. Love in Arda Marred comes with a price.”

Your thoughts drift unbidden, carried away like the falling petals. You think of the elf from weeks past. The elfling from ages ago who had once climbed a tree to peer into Yellen’s nest. A chance meeting so simple, yet one that lingered through the passing years.

Through letters, through feasts, through fleeting encounters too brief to satisfy, and through the careful delivery of trinkets now hidden away in your room, far from prying eyes.

Nolofinwe. His name sings to you in every moment of Laurelin’s light and Telperion’s shadow.

It is a love distinct from your devotion to your lord. A tenderness set apart from the bond you share with your brother.

You have hidden it well, shielding it from the omnipresent song of Arda, whose marred melody seems to reach for all things pure, twisting them into its discordant strains.

But had you forgotten? Forgotten that he, your beloved, is a part of that same melody? That no matter how you might try, you cannot shield him from the song of which he is an inseparable note?

The mercy Iluvatar bestowed upon Melian to love Elwe was hers alone. It was never yours to claim.

Fingolfin POV

“My mother named me Aracáno,” Nolofinwe explains, his tone thoughtful. “It means ‘the high chieftain.’” He blushes faintly, the memory of childhood teasing surfacing unbidden. “Though as a child, I didn’t think much of it. My brother Feanaro often mocked me, calling me the chieftain of snotty elflings.”

He chuckles softly at the recollection, his hand holding yours in a snug grasp. Hidden away from the rowdy feast of rains, Nolofinwe has finally stolen a moment with you, away from prying eyes and curious ears.

It had been no small feat to slip away, especially with your brother. Eonwe, the mighty Chieftain of the Maiar, ever watchful. For days, Nolofinwe had been haunted by uneasy dreams of spears and falcons, as if even the thought of drawing close to you invited his disapproval. Yet here you were, close enough to touch, and for this moment, all those fears seemed inconsequential.

Clad in the luminous bloom of Telperion’s light, you were a vision he could not bear to miss. And as always, in your presence, the words spilled freely from him, unguarded and sincere, a rarity even among those he trusted.

“And then I let Arafinwe cho—” He falters mid-sentence, his words dissolving into silence as your wing extends, wrapping gently around him. The soft, downy warmth envelops him, and for a moment, Nolofinwe can only look up at you, pleasantly dumbfounded.

You tilt your head slightly, your golden eyes studying him. “Is it too warm?” you ask, already beginning to fold your wing back.

But Nolofinwe shifts closer, leaning into the embrace with a soft sigh. “It is pleasant,” he murmurs, his voice low and content. His hand lifts instinctively to comb through your feathers, his touch reverent and light.

The story he’d been telling fades entirely from his thoughts. All that remains is this quiet moment, the warmth of your wing around him, and the quiet peace he finds in your presence.

Feanor POV

A Maia?

Curufinwe nearly laughs aloud at the sheer absurdity of it. Surely this is some elaborate jest, another one of Nolofinwe’s ill-advised attempts to outshine him.

Beside him, Nerdanel discreetly stomps on his foot, a warning meant to temper his reaction. But it does little to dissuade him. The sight before him is far too amusing to ignore.

Seated beside a straight-backed Maia, with magnificent wings slightly fluffed in what Curufinwe assumes is either nervousness or pride, sits his brother, Nolofinwe.

Feanaro had every intention of interrogating you later about the beads woven into your feathers. How they managed not to hinder your flight was a mystery worth solving but for now, his attention is wholly consumed by the scene before him. A pair indeed. A couple of trolls.

“So… this is your suitor?” he asks, his voice laced with poorly masked amusement. The effort to suppress his laughter is futile; from the glowering look on Nolofinwe’s face, it’s clear he’s failed spectacularly.

You, however, remain utterly unbothered, your posture as straight and vigilant as a guard on duty.

“Yes, I reckon I am indeed the one your brother courts, Crown Prince Curufinwe,” you reply, your tone cool and precise, as though delivering a patrol report.

For a fleeting moment, Curufinwe is struck by the urge to test you—to see if the obedience typical of Manwe’s Maia extends to you. Would you follow his orders with the same unflinching diligence?

The thought alone is nearly enough to make him laugh again, but Nerdanel’s second, more forceful stomp ensures he stays (relatively) composed.

From the prideful look in Nolofinwe’s eyes, Curufinwe can practically see him preening, as if to say, Look at this marvel I’ve claimed.

The Maia beside him, however, seems to be fighting a very different battle. Your gaze flickers just barely toward the chandelier above the table, a glittering temptation. You try valiantly not to let your eyes linger, but the effort is almost painful to watch.

A preening peacock and a gullible eagle. What a pair indeed, Curufinwe muses with a ghastly bout of fondness he absolutely refuses to acknowledge.

[witchofhimring]

November Fics line-up

Fandoms: Silmarillion, Attack on Titan, Lore Olympus, House of the Dragon. Also I may write other one shots that are not on this list if any ideas strike me.

Series are not added to this particular line-up. In the future that may change but as of now works such as "Loyalty" will be placed on a separate list.

Rhaenyra losing a daughter in childbirth Rhaenyra Targaryen x daughter reader-non romantic (HOTD) Summary: Rhaenyra's worst fears come true November 5 -

Being the younger sister of Persephone and having a rivalry with Hades Hades x Reader-non romantic (Lore Olympus)

Summary: Hades has to contend with his future sister-in-law November 12

Being Alicent's friend and helping her with anxiety Alicent Hightower x Reader HOTD

Summary: Y/n helps her friend with anxiety November 15

Types of kisses Kosair Trovi x Reader (Remarried Empress)

Summary: The many ways Kosair Trovi loves you November 18

Alys Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen (HOTD)

Summary: Based of Euripides's Medea, Aemond takes the place of Jason, and Alys of Medea. November 22

Queen Eren Yeager x Reader/Mikasa Ackerman x Reader/ Eren Yeager x Mikasa Ackerman (Attack on Titan)

Summary: The title of Queen is never one of joy. You love Mikasa, Mikasa supposedly loves Eren, and Eren loves you. November 25

Gave it all up for love Indis x Finwe/ Miriel x Finwe (Silmarillion)

Summary: Indis always thought with her heart. It brings her unimaginable joy and the deepest of despair. November 30

[tinnictheguardian]

Finwe, Miriel and Indis: No Happy Ending

I read a lot of "Am I the Asshole? (AITA)" posts on Reddit, and one thing I have noticed is how much of the posts are about blended family drama.

Even assuming that most of the posts are people just having a bit of fun and doing a writing exercise, the sheer volume means that even a fraction of them being true stories is still a lot.

I think that goes to show why people gravitate to Feanor so much because his blended family drama is so relatable. Also because there was no possibility of a happy ending.

So here's a question people don't often ask in the Finwe x Miriel drama, would Miriel have escaped to Mandos if Finwe wasn't pressuring her to get better so they could have more children?

Miriel didn't die during childbirth. She survived and spent some time raising Feanor with Finwe. It's only when Finwe started wondering about more children that Miriel didn't want to have that Finwe suggested she go into the Garden of Lorien to heal properly. I don't think it's a misreading of the text to suggest that Miriel might have opted to go to Mandos because she was so distressed by the idea of having more children that she couldn't really rest and heal.

There is an alternative universe where Finwe accepts Miriel's no more children stance. So Miriel never goes to Mandos and lives happily raising her only son and busying herself with her craft. But then Finwe would not have been happy. Not to mention, Indis would forever be doomed to have unrequited love, and her children may not be born.

Even if divorce was a concept among the elves, there was no way to have a happy ending for all because it was just not possible when one person, Finwe, wanted more children, and another person, Miriel, no longer did, and their son, Feanor, just wanted his parents to be together.

The AITA posts on blended families have the same themes. The children from the first marriage don't approve of the second marriage. There is favouritism of one set of siblings over another. Parents are willfully ignorant and want to force one big happy family vibe, but in truth, the half-siblings hate each other, or there is continuous rejection from at least one half-sibling.

A lot of the stories ended with estrangement in adulthood or recommendations for going "no contact" or "low contact" from the AITA community. But that was not possible for Feanor because he loved his father and also did not want to give up his birthright as the crown prince of the Noldo.

I don't think it ever made clear how old Feanor was when Finwe remarried, but I don't think it would make a material difference in Feanor's attitude if Finwe waited until Feanor himself was married and with children to remarry. But perhaps you can say that if Finwe had waited until Feanor was an adult to remarry, Feanor's attitude towards the second marriage would be more clearly unacceptable.

It is not unreasonable for minor children to not want to be thrust into a blended family situation. But once the children are adults, the parents have done their duty and can put themselves first again. But again, someone was going to be unhappy when not everybody is on the same page!

All this leads to an important question: who would Finwe choose at the end of Arda? Assuming Eru Illuvatar only allows Finwe to have one wife with whom he can live in Arda Remaid and Unmarred, who would it be? Miriel or Indis?

[superloves4]

While I slog through a fic I actually really want to tell (the joys of writing!) I decided to talk about that Feanor as Melkor's son AU I mentioned in my tags

So far I have three possibilities, from least realized to most:

Feanor as Melkor and Mairon bio baby, so far I don't really have much for this one, the Valar find baby Feanor after Melkor's imprisonment (haven't decided why Mairon wouldn't have escaped with the baby) and give him to Finwe to raise (I hadn't realized it doesn't makes sense for Miriel to die in this one until now, so either she doesn't and it's full throwing away canon or in this one she doesn't exist and Finwe just didn't want to tell Feanor who his real parents were, it's both sad and funny)

Baby Feanor kidnap adopted by Melkor, the timeline is bothering me here, maybe Feanor is born before Melkor's imprisonment? Or he leaves imprisonment way before the original? I mostly wanted this to be funny about Melkor and Mairon getting so attached and wanting so bad to be good parents to feral child Feanor that they actually get redeemed (although dark!Feanor x Nerdanel is very intriguing)

And the one I (unfortunately) have the most on (as of right now) is Feanor as Melkor... and Miriel's son, I jokingly thought about this one but alas it got bigger than I expected, so: Melkor decides to go mess with the elves only to find Miriel collecting bugs (they're silk worms, weird bug girl Miriel for the win!) and he gets actually quite impressed with her desire to not settle with the world and wanting to make it prettier with fabrics, they fall in love (or as much in love Melkor can be, so far he is more like canon evil Melkor than the softer one of the other two ideas) but when she finds out who he is, she runs away and falls for Finwe instead.

Finwe is then totally cool with raising Miriel's child because he loves her so much but Miriel keeps feeling she's awful for her previous love for Melkor, combined with the power required to sustain a half-ainur child, and ends up dying.

Finwe of course, absolutely adores little Feanor despite not being his bio dad, and thus names him Finwion (later Curufinwe), but raising a half-ainur child is not easy, especially when you can't actually ask anyone for help without revealing the truth, so Finwe just has to deal with eldritch child Feanor, alone.

(like, one time there's a teacher Feanor hates because he heard the teacher say that Feanor killed Miriel, so Feanor gives the teacher a bracelet he doesn't even understand how he made cursed, the teacher then complains to Finwe, who is just trying to understand how to explain to his son that he can't do that, also he fires the teacher)

Then it's basically the same as canon up until Melkor return, because instead of trying to create discord he arrives and realizes Feanor's his son and tries to pull a Darth Vader and convince Feanor to join him.

Feanor is, of course, against the idea but Melkor is convinced that if he reveals Feanor's true parentage in the upcoming festival then the uproar and hate will cause Feanor to be more willing.

Only, right before he can make his announcement Feanor shows up wearing the silmarils (Melkor decides to rename him Lightbringer but I haven't figured out what that is in Quenya) and instead of going along with Melkor, Feanor

Bows. to. MANWE!!!!!

And does a whole speech about Melkor trying to deceive him by claiming he isn't Finwe's son (Feanor already realized the truth, he's just rejecting it) and doing a whole spectacle of proof

The Finwe family isn't stupid and to Feanor's surprise, the first person to join his show is INDIS!!! Joined then (in order) by Nolo, Nerdanel, and Maglor (if it was political it would be Maedhros but it's a performance remember)

Manwe isn't stupid and understands what they are doing so when Melkor tries to say that it's all Finwe's lie he just tells Melkor that it was clear that Feanor was Finwe's son

Melkor storms out (he still plans to destroy the trees but his objective is Feanor instead of just the silmarils) and the Finweans leave too

Feanor has a cathartic talk and cry with his dad while the rest of the family discuss what this means for them all, Feanor is now more open to his half-family and his relation to the other Valas is totally different, and how that could end up having happier ending to the story.

And that's how much I have of this one, it compels me but it's the only one that I have no idea of how to add Melkor x Mairon and the original idea was about THEM as parents whereas this one is about the original Finweans in a different situation so I'm conflicted

[overlord-of-fantasy]

If Indis and Miriel were with Finwe when Melkor came for the Silmarills

This taces place in an au, where Miriel returns from the halls at some point and her Finwe and Indis are in a happy poly-realtionship. They are only alone that night, because they sent their massive family on that Valar-party to have some alone time.

Indis: Someone’s trying to break in. Call the Valar! Finwe: *pulls a sword out from under the table* I got this. Miriel: Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-

[silmarillaure]

What you're favorite Silmarillion pairing says about you.

Thingol/Melian - You think you deserve everything good the world has to offer, news flash! You deserve nothing! But you have a serious lucky streak.

Finwe/Miriel - You love Feanor. (You might even be Finwe yourself!)

Finwe/Indis - You hate Feanor.

Feanor/Nerdanel - You've simped for every handsome, fictional, broken, angsty, sad boy ever.

Finarfin/Earwen - You just wanted good things for Finarfin, and honestly, who wouldn't?

Maedhros/Fingon - You absolutely adore doomed relationships.

Celegorm/Orome - You like the functional/disaster dynamic they have. (You probably also ship Cherik from X-Men.)

Celegorm/Aredhel - You watch Game of Thrones (or House of The Dragon).

Aredhel/Eol - You have stockholm syndrome.

Aegnor/Andreth - You live for tragic romance.

Caranthir/Haleth - You either self insert very hard into Caranthir and want an awesome GF or you're just a slut for the goth/jock dynamic.

Beren/Luthien - You're dating someone way out of you're league.

Glorfindel/Ecthelion - You literally have nothing going on in your life that you started shipping two pretty background characters.

Idril/Tuor - You're super vanilla. Sorry, but like why? There are so many better couples. The only thing I can say in you're defence is that Earendil's amazing.

Earendil/Elwing - You absolutely love couples who give a shit about nearly nothing except eachother!

Melkor/Sauron - I don't know what to tell you honestly, but you probably have no idea what love is.

Sauron/Celebrimbor - You have a very controlling partner who exhibits red flags constantly.