#i went for a snake on celegorms back

[peasant-player]

Tattoo ideas for curufin and celegorm

For @starsofarda hc!

This was super fun but also super difficult to do.

No, not because the tattoos where hard to draw. I choosed very simple designs!

The December stress is getting to me haha let me tell you something "fun"

The celegorm drawing is on normal paper! No maker paper. Great idea yes?

NO! I did not realized in my tiny lizard brain that I did not changed the paper

So I colored it on the wrong paper because no way in hell I'm gonna draw all of the tiny scales again. WRONG DECISION AGAIN!

The colors went all through,bleeding over everything, effing everywhere !

And I mean even on me,on my drawing board ,on multiple other papers. There is bright bold red EVERYWHERE.

Other then that it was very fun project❤️

[arofili]

Would it be possible if you could do number 12 for Curufinrod?

12. Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

~~~

There were times Finrod was convinced he didn’t care. Times where he was certain this was all manipulation, that Edrahil was right to be suspicious, that the whispered words of passion were calculated to make Finrod’s heart sing and meant nothing at all to the one who spoke them.

But other times, Finrod truly believed that was not the case.

Curufin pulled him aside, his palms hot and his grip firm. Finrod was no weakling: he could easily wrench himself from his cousin’s grip, should he wish to; but he did not. Sometimes Curufin was like this: rough, insistent, demanding. Other times he would play coy, go weeks without so much as looking Finrod’s way, taunt him when Finrod finally attempted to seduce him back to his bed.

He always went, though.

So Finrod let himself be dragged into a hidden corner of his grand dwelling, let himself be pushed up against the wall, let his lips be plundered and moaned into Curufin’s biting kiss. It was briefer than he expected—usually when Curufin got like this it would lead to one of them on their knees for the other, or covering up bruises on their necks—but after the first kiss Curufin made no further move. He simply...held Finrod.

Finrod liked to be held. He liked a lot of things from a lot of different néri. But Curufin was not the lover he went to when he wanted gentleness and love. He knew what Curufin wanted, and he would play his game, for a time. Even when they shared Finrod’s bed into the night, Curufin did not hold him close, though he did sometimes allow Finrod to curl up around him.

“I will talk to him,” Curufin muttered into Finrod’s shoulder.

“What?” Finrod said, baffled by everything about this situation. He forced himself to relax, to allow Curufin’s affection, but he did not understand. Was this a new tactic his cousin was trying, to catch him off guard? After the blunt cruelty of Celegorm in the meeting they had just left, it would be clever for the second brother to disorient him with unusual comfort.

Curufin pulled back, his eyes hard and angry. Finrod tensed, but Curufin shook his head, kissing him again, soft as he had never been before, not since Valinor when he was shyly exploring with the one cousin he was certain would not judge him. (Finrod had been honored, then. But Curvo had changed greatly since his youth. When he came to Finrod the next time, in Nargothrond, he knew better than to think it out of trust or admiration.)

“Tyelko,” Curufin explained. “What he said was—out of line. You deserve better treatment from your guests.”

Finrod stared at him. Curufin didn’t meet his eyes, instead leaning to press his lips to Finrod’s neck, not in a possessive act of marking him, but simply...a reassurance. Or it would be, from any other lover.

“You are not—” He frowned. “This is unlike you, Curvo.”

Curufin’s teeth nipped at his skin, and Finrod shivered. “Is that more like the snake you expect?” he asked softly.

“Ahh, mm,” Finrod sighed. He did like his neck to be played with. “Yes...though I hope you are not so poisonous as some of my counselors believe.”

“I am not here to usurp thee, Ingoldo,” Curufin growled, and the shift to intimate language made in that rich, dark tone made Finrod weak at the knees. “We want power and influence, yes, but Tyelko forgets who thou art.”

“Thy King?” Finrod challenged, tossing his waves of golden hair.

“Our cousin.” Curufin kissed his lips once more, deadly soft. “Our host.” He sank to his knees, gripping Finrod’s hips, his eyes glittering. “And I do not forget, Ingo, that it is thy house who took the serpent as its symbol.”

“Thou hast seen through my veil of innocence,” Finrod rumbled, grabbing a fistful of Curvo’s hair. “So, wilt thou serve thy King, fair vassal?”

“I know no King but my brother Nelyafinwë, who lets his own ‘fair vassal’ play at wearing the crown,” Curvo hissed, his breath hot and maddening at Finrod’s waist. “Nay, dear Ingo—my cousin thou art, and my host also, but to Curufinwë Curufinwion thou shalt always be mine equal.”

[mythopoeticreality]

The Road Goes Ever On - Chapter 3

And our adventure continues!^^ Everything is starting to come together now, meanwhile no one has any idea what’s actually going on xD

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900423/chapters/55152814

Chapter 3

By the time he’d woken Huan and set down the track himself, Curufinwë was a good several yards ahead of them, a swiftly shrinking shadow-speck becoming lost in the twisting corridors and narrow passageways the arching branches above created as they wove within one another’s grasp.

“Iron hells!” Tyelcormo nearly spat the words,swinging himself onto Huan’s back. Not a word needed to pass to the great wolfhound before he went sprinting off, the earth between the two of them and Curvo devoured in Huan’s great, loping strides.

Grasping twigs and low hanging branches snapped and snagged against his cloak and the hair whipping out behind him. Tyelcormo pressed low against Huan’s back, fingers digging into his fur.

“You need to stop him. He goes the wrong way,” Huan said. Spoken in the language of Hounds, the words came out a rumbling growl, one Tyelcormo felt in his bones as much as he heard in his ears.

“What? What do you mean? That path-”

“Does not carry the pup’s scent. Of what scent it does carry, I cannot say but...” The hound only trailed off, grunts and snarls transformed into a low whine.

Celegorm frowned. It was not like Huan to be confused. How far had he traveled? How much had the both of them encountered? Some things even now Tyelcormo did not think he could adequately describe to others. For Huan to not be able to identify a scent…

Tyelcomo pressed his lips together, for a long moment just frowning at the blur of silver and shadows about him before quickly shaking his head, urging Huan on.

“Curvo!” He called out as they neared, “Curufinwë! Stop! Slow down!”

Curvo ignored him. Tyelcormo cursed again.

“You know what to do.” He grunted to Huan.

Tyelcormo braced himself, but even so his breath still came in all a rush as Huan lunged forward, breaking into full speed. His face pressed down against the hound’s thick, ropy coat, as Huan rounded on Curvo, cornering him like a deer.

As he pushed himself back upright, he was met with a glower that could likely melt stone. Ah, well, they did always say that Curvo was most like Atar…

“Get out of my way, Tyelcormo.”

“Not until you listen.”

Curvo’s brows shot up at that, slowly his head turned on it’s side. His eyes remained ever fixed on Tyelcormo. ��Until I listen?” He repeated. His voice remained level, even, but there was a blade hidden in those words. Meanwhile, Curvo’s thumb kept flicking, like one of Kano’s metronomes, over the blade held in his hand. “Forgive me brother, but were you not the one who alerted me to this matter? My son is --”

“Not down this way.” Tyelcormo cut in, “Or, at the least, Huan does not pick up upon his scent.”

There was a sharp hiss. Curvo sucking the air in between his teeth, as the knife bit down into his flesh. Were it not for that tight grip, that leash-like control he held over himself always, Tyelcormo was sure his brother would have bolted by now. He could see it, lurking there just below the surface, in the sharp ridge of bone that stood out along his knuckles and that flicker of worry just behind his eyes.

“We waste time, then.” Those were Curvo’s only words before he turned on his heel and began driving off back the way they had come.

Tyelcormo sighed. He trotted up Huan beside his brother. “We will find him, Curvo.” he insisted. “You must believe that.”

In an effort to comfort him, Huan leaned his head towards the elf, nuzzling against his chest.

“Tch.” Curufinwe raised his arms to push the hound away. Only to freeze.

Huan had gone still. Huan was growling.

In the next moment Huan rounded back on the trail again, lunging down it.

“Huan! To heel!” Tyelcormo cried, “What is the matter with you?”

“That scent. It is on him.”

“What? You mean--”

“Yes, whatever it was that took the pup, it has come down this way. And recently.”

Tyelcormo’s breath came in sharp. He swung around, calling over his shoulder to his brother, “Curvo, come! We have found something…”

~*~

“If it is another world you are from, can the same be said for those Hunters you spoke to earlier?”

By now, Fëanáro expected the answer. The silence that followed, that vague turn of the head, a gesture of the hand, halfway between a balancing scale and a dismissive wave. It hadn’t been long, perhaps an hour or so at most since first he’d encountered the Stranger, yet he felt he was beginning to understand -- not the man himself, of course, not really, but what he was like, at least.

And so he continued on. “If they are, then I imagine they would have come here through a similar path, yes? And that is the route we look for now?” He’d just remembered the lead Huntsman saying something of the like to the young man earlier. It had slipped his mind before, but, as it was, Fëanáro was rather concerned with other matters at the time. “But if that is the case, then I should hardly think you would need me to find it…”

The Stranger was simply watching him as he asked these things, eyes resting upon him in a lazy half-lidded stare. The corner of his lips quirked upwards.

Fëanáro snorted, catching the man’s look, “By all means,” he drawled, “if you have anything to say, your input would be quite welcome.”

“If I felt any need for it, I would.”

Fëanáro fixed the stranger with a flat look. With a slow shake of his head, he returned his gaze to the surrounding trees and mushrooms poking out of the leaf litter. They at least provided answers if one knew what to look for.

“I will say this.” The stranger said after a moment or so, “you are nearing the truth of it.”

“Am I, now?”

“You are. They are not of this world. But it is theirs more than mine.”

“Of course.” Of course, that should be the answer the Stranger gave him. The man seemed completely incapable of speaking in anything but riddles, should he expect anything different?

The mushrooms along the way were growing more thickly now, in long clusters forming lines to either side of them. Fëanáro remembered passing this way, beneath Laurelin’s light he had first seen it and it had struck him as odd then, as if something were trying to guide the walker somewhere. Now, the world bleached of all color save for Telperion’s pale cast, it was almost eerie.

He knew at least, he was going in the right direction. He began picking up speed, his step more assured as he led the Stranger onward.

“You have followed this way before?”

Fëanáro glanced up as the Stranger next spoke. It was the tone in the man’s voice as much as anything -- surprise, just laced with a faint air of judgement (or atleast what he interpreted as such). It made his hackles rise. “Yes…” He said, drawing out the word if only to hold back his own frustration.

A low, thoughtful sort of hum, that was the entirety of the man’s response as his eyes played along the trail of mushrooms.

“And if I had not?” Fëanáro pressed, “Where would you be then?”

The stranger’s gaze flickered back to the elf. There was something piercing in that gaze, searching. As though he were looking into Fëanáro, rather than simply at him.“I would find my way.” he said, before simply turning to look straight on ahead. “Do you really have no idea where this road leads? No tales that tell of such places?”

“What? Of mushroom strewn paths that lead off to other worlds?” But there were tales. Half forgotten in Valinor, dismissed by scholars such as himself as mere misinterpretation, encounters with Maiar upon Middle-Earth, or vauge glimpses of Oromë’s company before anything was understood. Folklore on the same level of the Black Rider. And yet those words began to whisper in his mind now, Nermir, Nandini, Orrosi, Oromandi… “Children’s tales.” Fëanáro insisted. “You cannot be serious abou--”

A high, ringing bark broke through the woods at that moment. It happened so fast, there was no time to react. A blur of white. A grunt and a thud.

Turko?

It was the only thought able to register in Fëanáro’s mind in that split moment.

Tyelcormo sat, crouched over Huan’s back, his hair streaming about his face, his eyes a wild reflection of the Hound’s own. Huan himself stood growling down at the Stranger, now pinned beneath the hound’s great paws.

“Tyelco, call your hound off!” Curufinwë’s voice. A moment later, he too came crashing out through the trees, “We need answers now, not the bastard’s blood streaming out over--Atar?!” He cut himself off, his eyes widening, gaze flickering between the stranger so near to Huan’s teeth, and his own father.

~*~

“Where is he? What did you do with him?” The words were a low, rolling growl, the sort that stretched on, and twisted at some deep, animal part of him. The part that was a frightened hare, and only screamed to run, over and over.

Wild eyes and gleaming teeth. Long, snaking flows of silver hair. Hot, reeking breath huffed into his face and creeping along his neck. In those first shocked moments, there was only impressions. The ground tipping up over itself, the bite of stones and twisting tree roots into his back. The weight pressing into his shoulders.

He blinked, staring up at the towering creature that now loomed over him. His mind still reeling -- he was not used to being surprised, not like this. He should have known, should have heard whisperings of something -- it took him a moment even to separate hound from rider.

Hound. It was a hound wasn’t it? The size of a horse, yes, but still undeniably…

There were voices shouting off, a way back. The voice of the first man he’d met on the road --his guide-- rising. The Rider twisted around, barked something to the other two. John Uskglass would not have understood it even were he paying attention. As it stood, the hound’s growling had grown only lower and more insistent, especially as the rider now turned back, and demanded something of the Magician.

“Do not just lie there! Answer him! Where did you leave --”

“Who do you think I am?”

The hound’s ears pricked, and for a moment the sharp little pins of pressure at his shoulders --the hound’s claws digging in -- eased up just slightly. John could feel the weight of the Rider’s stare upon him as well.

“You speak to me?”

“As you speak to me.”

This earned John another low growl, “You try to distract me. To win my trust against those of my pack.”

“No, I do not.”

“Then why do you not speak to me?” This time the growl had a much more human quality to it. John’s eyes flickered upward to find himself staring down the Rider. “I could have your throat torn out right now, and yet rather than answer, you reply to my dog?”

It was a threat few would have dared to make in any of his own realms, and it struck the Raven King as rather ironic. What could he have done if of a mind to do it? A faint smirk quirked at his lips. But he only shook his head, shut his eyes, pressed a long breath out through his nose. “I reply to the one speaking to me in a tongue I can understand.”

A sharp bark of laughter from the Rider, “And what? Were you raised by hounds that you cannot speak as one of the Eldar?”

“Wolves.” The Raven King replied.

And perhaps he had pushed too far. It was not a comment to win trust, even on his own world. The Rider’s eyes flashed. The Hound began snarling again. Somewhere behind them voices started to murmur and a call was shouted in this direction.

To the Raven King, it grew all too tiresome.

And so he vanished. Fell into the drowning dark of the Hound’s own shadow looming over him.

The Hound yelped, leaping back as though afraid to vanish himself.

The Rider made a sound like a strangled squawk.

As the Raven King emerged from the shadows between the trees (as though he were stepping from a doorway. Striding through and solidifying as though from a dream or some othere where entirely) it was the companion he first met upon the Road who’s eyes landed upon him first -- and those eyes were now blazing,just as bright as the heart of any star.

“My grandson.” He ground out, “Where is he? Speak, and speak quickly.”

[nerdanel-istarnie]

Lizard lizard lizard Huan

//Celegorm and childhood. I think I added a bit too much Nerd...

Celegorm's new pet lizards have escaped. They need to be wrangled back into their box. Nerdanel is on it.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10408383

There was a lizard eating her dinner roast. On second glance, it was attacking the piece of meat like it had a lifelong grudge against beef. Nerdanel picked up the furious mottled green animal by the torso. It twisted and spit, long tail snapping about and sending her flower vase to the ground in a loud crash. She threw the thrashing reptile in a nearby soup pot, quickly putting on the lid. The metal cookware rattled with the wrath of the lizard and the lid nearly came off in a puff of steam before Nerdanel put a heavy plate over it. Now she would have something to reply next time Fëanáro told her that ornamental crockery was useless.

So Tyelko had a new pet apparently. Valar save them.

The look of guilt on her son’s face when she called him to the kitchen was all the proof she needed. “Your lizard escaped” she said coolly. Tyelko mumbled something about there being three “Well then, you better help me find the other ones then”. Her son darted out, happy for the respite of the lecture he was certain to get later.

Nerdanel headed to her workspace, looking for her gloves. There was no way she was handling another of those scaly nuisances barehanded. The first one had nearly taken a chunk out of her forearm. She did find the gloves, but also found Moryo dripping with red goop and his two younger brothers covered in charcoal. It seemed a particular effort had been made to cover their hair. Ambarussa was happily munching on a drawing stick and black bubbles frothed from his mouth. At least charcoal was non-toxic? Nerdanel waited for an explanation. She was less than impressed by it “Moryo, your brothers do not need to be…color corrected. They are fine with red hair” More explanations from her son “That would explain the mess of cherries gummed up in your hair then. No more hair colour change experiments. To the bath, all three of you. Oh, and have you seen a lizard? Green, bad temper?” No such luck.

The sculptor headed outside. A shaking bush! Maybe this chase would be shorter than she initially thought. She reached inside the bush and pulled out…a sheepish Findekáno. “I’m hiding from Turukáno” he volunteered. Nerdanel inquired as to why that was “We want to start a band, Káno, Findo and me. Turukáno just wants to ruin it. He sings like a deflating bullfrog. And it would ruin our concept” Nerd was curious “The Flying Fins!” Nerd sighed and suggested they give him a triangle to play in the background and sent her nephew along. She had no time for musical drama. Nerdanel thought too late about the implications of the “flying” part of the name.

Meanwhile, Tyelkormo had found a lizard. It was biting on Huan’s tail with impressive dedication and the puppy was running in circle trying to chase the new addition. She didn’t know if the lizard was holding on by sheer stubbornness or because it was afraid it would fly off if it let go. Nerdanel called the dog to her. Huan was exuberantly happy to see them and started wagging his tail, walloping the poor lizard to the ground left and right. It didn’t protest too much when Nerdanel put it in a box. She thought they were a lot more amicable when thoroughly stunned. Huan for his part, took to growling at the boxed lizard and Tyelko was doing his best looking contrite while trying not to burst out laughing.

2 down, one to go. Nerdanel searched the house, Tyelkormo the grounds. Nothing. No lizard. Then it dawned on her with dread. She lifted her eyes to where a wisp of smoke was snaking up to the sky. The forge. It was a very foolish lizard that would venture there. She headed for the building, Tyelkormo in tow. Nerdanel opened the door a crack, the heat blasting her in the face. She nearly let the door close, not seeing any lizard on the ground around Fëanáro’s feet or on the various tables. But then her eyes adjusted. It was there. On Fëanáro’s back. Nerdanel would have to have a talk with him about how too much focus wasn’t a good thing.

She didn’t want to startle either of them. Animals escaping was already a tense point between Tyelko and his father since the parakeet had crashed into one of Fëanáro’s new lamps and destroyed it. Surprizing Fëanáro might also cause irreparable damage to whatever he was working on. She thought of a plan of action while staring at the angry teethy lump. If she didn’t know better, Nerdanel would have sworn the lizard was watching Fëanáro work from under his arm. Those lizards were truly unsettling.

Gesturing for her son to be silent, Nerdanel picked up a pair of pincers. She crept very slowly toward the lizard as Tyelko held up the box he was carrying open. She was nearly there, reaching for the animal. Then three things happened: she caught the lizard, who startled because of the sudden squeeze from the pincers and let out a tiny burst of flame, which caused her to release the lizard and gasp, and Fëanáro turned around, still holding what looked strangely like a metal triangle. Her husband was quite bemused at the sight of her, pincers in the air and Tyelko with his wicker crafting box “There’s a lizard. On your back”, she gestured. Unfortunately, Nerdanel had no time to say more before Fëanáro reached behind his shoulder and found the lizard. Or more accurately the lizard found his finger.

So now they had captured the last lizard, but it wouldn’t let go of the prize that was Fëanáro’s finger for anything. Truly, Nerdanel was impressed her husband didn’t so much as complain from the sharp pain. He was much too busy prodding the scaly hide of the animal to make it let go, eliciting vicious if muffled roars from the lizard. He tried staring it down but entering a battle of wills against a creature without eyelids was a lost cause. She suggested just hitting it with a hammer but with such sharp teeth, the smith might lose the finger. Then ingenuity won the day. Fëanáro stuck the end of a small bellow inside the lizard’s nostril and pumped. The green beast let out an affronted squeak and unlocked its jaws. It went into the box rather quietly after that. Now Nerdanel was the one having to repress a laughing fit.

Tyelko finally got all three lizards inside the cage they had come in. Nerdanel mused that Oromë must have known the lizards were bad tempered as the cage was made of solid iron “You better bring those back to Oromë. They have caused enough mayhem and harm. Try getting something less angry next time. May I suggest a dormouse?” Tyelkormo piped up “I didn’t get them from Oromë, mother” When he didn’t volunteer more information, she all but guessed the provenance. He finally admitted “I got them from Melkor” Of course. Nerdanel picked up the heavy cage, jaw set. She made her son promise he would not get any animal from the Vala again. She didn’t need to threaten retribution. She knew Fëanáro would express their displeasure much more eloquently, especially since Tyelkormo knew full well not to have dealings with the Vala. The lizards seethed, but not as much as she did. Now she had to return them. Nasty beasts those were. They honored their provenance in that.

[gayjaytodd]

celegorm to the sindar: one time my brother transformed himself into a snake because he knows how much I like snakes, and so I picked the snake up to admire it, but then he turned back and went ‘mblergh! It’s me!’ And then he stabbed me.

curufin, smiling: ahhhh,,, happy days

There was one time my brother transformed himself into a snake because he knows how much I like snakes, and so I picked the snake up to admire it, but then he turned back and went ‘AAHH! It’s me!’ And then he stabbed me.