#just a jump start on Feanorian Week

[isilwhore]

I love them because there’s just so many of them and they’re all screwed up

[navyinks]

I love your art (particularly your design series) and I was just wondering, since you did Fingolfin, will you do the rest of the Nolofinweans at some point? Because your art is genuinely how I have begun to see the characters in my head and it’s amazing!

The truth is I have drafts/plans for them already! But I have been fiddling with Fingon’s design on and off for 3 months now (that’s right, he’s been stuck in my head for longer than the Feanorians hhhhh) Fingolfin got dropped during Feanorian week as a bit of tasteless humour on my part, but Fingon is the one that’s holding everyone else in queue x”D (I even thought maybe I should just jump ship to the arafinweans while Fingon stews away... pun not intended LMAO)

If you’ve genuinely started to see my designs in your head then mate... I’m deeply touched, because it’s hard for me to do that as the fandom has so many beautiful interpretations of the characters to look at xD Thank you for being around to look at my work, I hope the nolofinweans won’t disappoint you when they finally come out!!

[arlenianchronicles]

I'm so glad you jumped on this too! :) I was wondering if you would be willing answer #5, #18, and #22? I hope you had a lovely Sunday! Have a great start to your week.

Ahh thank you so much! I’d be happy to answer those questions for you :D And my Sunday’s been good so far! I hope yours was good too!

5) Do you practice other styles / have you tried other styles in the past?

Oh indeedy I have! When I was in high school, I played around with a cartoony style based on what I saw in webcomics. Then I developed a more semi-realistic style which lasted up to September 2018. That’s when I drew this, and since Inktober was right around the corner, that gave me a chance to develop this new style of mine. The style I use today is a mix of this new style and my old semi-realism (though occasionally I might do some rendering)! I think the best way to show you my style progression is here; you just need to scroll down a bit, and then you’ll see the examples! :D

18) What is your purpose for drawing?

My purpose was initially to draw my OCs. That’s all I ever did in elementary and high school (and fanart too, but my OCs took priority loll). And it’s still my purpose today, only I find that I draw fanart more often than my OCs these days! I also love drawing familial and platonic dynamics, and to explore the relationships between characters -- whether mine or in fiction. There’s a lot to find/feel in a simple hug and kiss <3

22) List at least one of your “artspirations.”

I’ve always dreamed of illustrating my own stories! I’m currently writing a trilogy, and I think it would be nice to see my art in there XDD The problem is that I’m still not good at drawing backgrounds ^^;; But I hope to get there someday!

I’m also warming up to the idea in drawing for Tolkien zines or anthologies, but I have no idea how that process works. So until then, I’ll continue drawing more Feanorians and twins XDD

[saelwen]

The Last Dragon

Daenys Targaryen x Glorfindel

Crossover: Game of Thrones and LOTR/Hobbit

Chapter20

Masterlist

Summary: After Daenery’s death, her daughter Daenys, flew away with Drogon. Feeling lost without her mother beside her, but what will happen when Daenys find a portal that will lead her to a certain world, where dwell elves, dwarves, humans and other races

Warnings: a little bit of angst

Words: 3k

A small smile forms on my lips as I feel the warm lips of my beloved husband on my neck, spreading goosebumps on all my body “Time to wake up, my dragon Queen!” Glorfindel’s voice sounded beside my ear. I groan and pull the soft blanket up to my head, isolating from the outside world “Just more five minutes...” I mumble from under the thick blanket.

He chuckles and pulls the blanket away, letting the cold morning air touch my warm skin. “You can’t, Mellethnin...Today is the big day.” his voice was peaceful, his hair shining as the sunlight hit them, making them look even more gold. A small sigh escapes from me. I roll back and stand up from the bed. That’s right...Today King Manwë will have a council with everyone... including Morgoth.

It has been two weeks since the elves had set free from the Halls of Mandos and it took some time from them to return to their lives. Glorfindel and Ecthelion had spent almost all days together, sharing some tales and remembering the old times together. I had come with them in some hunting, getting to know more Ecthelion.

In those hunts, some Noldor elves join us in which leads me to form new friendships, as like Turgon, Fingon and Finrod. They are all so kind and light-hearted but the one that had grabbed my attention was Aredhel, daughter of Fingolfin. She had joined us recently, and it impressed me of how good she was with her bow, hitting in every target perfectly in one shot. After that day, I and her went on hunts together or just going for a walk on the gardens of Lórien.

I’ve also got to know more other important elves, explaining to them my story and of what will happen in middle-earth but the only family that I have more difficulty to spend time with the House of Fëanor. They spend most of their time in their fortress, Formenos. I know that they are hated by all the elves in Valinor because of their actions from the past but I will need that they put their selfishness and pride to the side since the feanorians are the best of all elves in battle.

I walk to my wardrobe and pull a simple black and gold dress, which represented my and Glorfindel Houses. I braid my silver hair in a Dothraki style, putting a golden flower pin in it. Happy with my look, I turn back and saw Glorfindel smiling softly to me “You’re beautiful..” he says in awe. I chuckle and went to him, wrapping my arms around his neck “And so do you...Are you ready to go?” I asked softly, he nods and leans down, giving me a soft kiss in the lips “Hmm...Yes, the horses are ready.” he said.

An idea pops up on my head, making a huge smirk growing on my lips. I think it’s time for the elves to know my children...Let’s hope that they don’t faint.

Glorfindel pulls back and looks down at me with his golden eyebrow lifted “I know that look...You are taking the dragons, am I right?” I giggle a while nodding. “Yes! You go ahead with King Olwë, I will meet you there.” he sighs and gave me one last kiss “Be careful...Don’t forget that the Dark Lord himself will be there.” he says a while walk to the door, I nod and follow him.

When I arrive at where my dragons were, I walk to Daenerion and pet him softly, feeling his warm scales on my hand “Let’s introduce you all to everyone!” i then walk to Drogon and climb to his back, grabbing firmly on his spikes “Valahd” with that Drogon jumps into the air, flying us to where the council will meet, with Daenerion, Viseral and Arcturion close behind us.

(Glorfindel P.O.V)

When I, Tyrion and King Olwë arrived at the gardens of Lórien, I notice that most of the elves were already there as also the Valar.

“And look who’s here...” Olwë says a while pointing to the large figure chained up beside Manwë. My eyes widened as I saw Morgoth himself, standing there with a disgusting smirk on his lips. I took a deep breath and I and Tyrion go sit on our seats a while King Olwë goes sitting beside his daughter, Eärwen.

Looking around, I observed that most of the elves were glaring to Morgoth, especially Fëanor and his sons. Oh, Eru...This will be a long day.

Suddenly a cheerful voice sounded beside me “Where is Daenys?” I turn my head and saw Aredhel walking towards me, with Ecthelion and Turgon close behind her. I wave to them and chuckle a bit “She will arrive soon.” they all nod and sit beside me.

There was a long silence between us as everyone is feeling the dark aura coming out from the Dark Lord, “Can’t you believe this? They had set free Morgoth!” Turgon whispers to us, I sigh and rub my hand on my golden hair “Well...we have little choice...we need him for what is coming.” I say a while looking down at Tyrion, who was looking to The Valar in awe.

“I hope that he doesn’t turn on us on the battlefield.” Aredhel says, a while putting a piece of her black hair behind her pointy ear, “He won’t...When he sees his new enemy, he will wish to be back on his prison.” we all look to Tyrion as he takes a gulp of wine on his bota bag.

Turgon was about to speak when a loud roar sounded on the air, making everyone look around in panic. A smirk grew on mine and Tyrion lips, seeing everyone except the Valar, freaking out.

I look up and see Daenys arriving with her four dragons. She lands on the small clearing beside us. I could hear everyone gasp and murmuring. I turn my head and saw Morgoth eyeing her with his eyes full of lust, I grip tightly on the arm of my chair, trying to control my jealousy, almost ripping off the wood. That bastard!... Don’t you dare to look at her like that! Drogon’s roar interrupted my thoughts, warning everyone to not mess with his rider.

“What 'a?...” Aredhel whispers, staring to Daenys in awe and confusion, like most of the elves in the place.

Daenys dismount from Drogon’s back gracefully, as he lowers his shoulder and walks to us. Drogon flies again to the sky and joins his friends, flying in circles to have an eye on their mother.

She sits beside me and gave me a warm smile in which I return. There is a long silence, everyone staring at Daenys with wide eyes. Suddenly, King Manwë stood up from his throne and spoke with a firm voice. “We are all here reunited to discuss the new enemy that we must defeat.” everyone looks to him “As we all know, Lady Daenys is from another realm...and she has already fought this enemy before.” I look down at her and saw her hands shaking. Her face was pale as the moon “Are you okay, my love?” I asked softly, squeeze her small hand. She looks to me and nods “Yes...it’s just some...memories from the past...” her voice came out so small, making me want to pick her up and leave this place, protecting from the evil from my and her world.

King Manwe turns Daenys and Tyrion and extended his hand, “Lady Daenys! Tyrion Lannister! Please come forward and explain to us your enemy.” they nod and walk to the middle. I turn my gaze to Morgoth and saw him biting his lips while staring at Daenys’s cleavage. I feel my blood boiling on my veins, the desire to go there and give him a good punch on his face, was huge. Ecthelion puts his hand on mine as he knew of what I was thinking “Calm down, mellonnin!” he whispers to me.

I took a deep breath and focused my attention on my beloved wife. Keep calm, Glorfindel!

(Daenys P.O.V)

I look around me and try to calm myself down. Remembering all those dark memories was too much...That night was a nightmare. A shiver runs down my spine, making me turn my gaze back to my husband. Letting those beautiful ocean blue eyes spread a warm comfort through my body, he gave a small encouraging smile.

“They created him a long time ago...The first men of Westeros were in a war with the children of the forest... and with an act of despair, they created a weapon to kill all the men and put an end to the war.” Tyrion took a deep sigh and look to the Valar with his head high “But they weapon was out of their control and started killing everything, resurrecting the dead and bend them to his will...with this, the children of the forest and the first men made an alliance, to defeat him together...And they did it.” he stays silent from a moment, I look around and notice everyone looking to him with a serious face “But they only put him weak and he hid for millions of years, growing stronger and his army grew bigger...That’s when he tried again to take over Westeros. Killing a dragon from Daenys’s mother and march to Winterfell with his enormous army...That night was a nightmare... We were face to face with death himself in that night and it was horrible...We thought we had killed him but we were wrong. The true Night King was beside us all along and we didn’t fucking know it...” when he finished, there was a long silence.

All the elves were in shock as well the Valar, Feanor stood up from his seat and took a step forward. “And how can we kill him or them?” I look to him “The white-walkers can be killed with fire or dragon glass but the Night King can only be killed with dragon glass.” I say firmly.

He nods and turns to the Valar “How can we get that material? Never in my life, I've heard of dragon glass!” Aulë stood from his throne and look to him “I also never heard of that material but if Lady Daenys or Lord Tyrion could explain to me, maybe I could do it or something similar.” I move my gaze from Fëanor to him and nod “I can explain it to you and also show you some weapons from my world that help us fight the ice demon.” Manwë nods and looks to everyone. “Children of Eru! We have a powerful enemy on our hands and we need to fight hard...In the next month we all sail to middle-earth and join the Edain and the Elder!...and my brother Melkor will join us and help us for he’s one of the most powerful between us.” everyone nods and stood from their seats, walking out of the garden.

Glorfindel walks to me with a huge smile on his face, with Aredhel, Ecthelion and Turgon close behind “When would you say you had dragons?!?” Aredhel almost yells, her grey eyes were so wide that I thought they would fall off.

A soft giggle escapes from me. “Well, I wanted to surprise you all!” she rolls her eyes and smile a little “Can I pet them?” Her voice was full of excitement. I looked up and saw that Turgon and Ecthelion also wanted to pet the dragons.

Nodding, I signal them to follow me. Daenerion was the first to come to us, pushing his large head into my palm. “This is Daenerion! The other two are Viseral and Arcturion.” Aredhel rubs her pale hand on Viseral warm scales a while Turgon and Ecthelion pet Arcturion.

“And what’s the large one name?” Turgon asked, pointing to Drogon. A small smile appears on my face as I go to him, rubbing softly his snout “His name is Drogon...he was of my mother.” Aredhel was about to say something but she shuts her mouths and bows her head.

Frowning, I turn back and saw Queen Varda behind me, smiling softly “Hello, young child.” her voice was so serene, almost remind me of my mother. I bow my head and greet her politely but she puts a soft hand under my chin and lifts it “No need for that, my child...May I talk to you in private?” I nod and follow to a stone bench.

We sit and she grabs my hand, squeezing softly “During the council, I notice something... I could feel something coming from you.” I tilt my head to the side, looking at her like a confused dog. “Something?” I ask. She nods and smiles “Yes...i could sense two fëas inside you.” She puts her other hand on my belly “You’re expecting twins...” as she said those words, my mind went crazy. Twins?! No...I can’t be pregnant now! Not with a battle so near!

Varda puts her hand on my cheek and rubs softly. “Calm down, my child! Do not fret...you have time until anything happens.” I met her gaze, my violet eyes full of concern and happiness at the same time. “But what if we lose? I can't bring my children to a world full of death!” I blurt, I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. Daenys! Calm down! My vision was blurry, the surrounding sounds were fainting “IRMO! COME HERE!” I heard Varda yell a while she wraps her warm arms around me.

“DAENYS? WHAT’S WRONG WITH HER?!” the sound of my husband's voice was so far away yet so close. Another pair of arms wrap around me and helps me lie down, I open my eyes and saw a beautiful man with white long hair “She having a panic attack...i will put her in restful sleep. It will help calm down.” the beautiful man says to Glorfindel, who was beside me holding my hand.

As the white-haired man, who they call him Irmo, put his hand on my forehead, everything goes black and heavy sleep took over me. I can’t...I Can’t bring my children into a cold long night...

Hey Guys!!! So what do you think? Morgoth might be a problem to Glorfindel 🤣 I hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment and tell what you think!!

XOXO

Taglist: @gwendelerynan​ @crazyonesarethebest​ @foggyturtleknightangel​ @moonchild-stuff​ @yes-captainstark​ @damniitjim​ @demonquartz​ @shanty-lol​ @lasswarrior​ @kxnngsshirecoffee​ @dipsylou​ @cookiechristie​ @bitchimalivesadly​ @bloodoftargaryen​ @melissalune​ 

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

Amrodnor

Amrod was on the ships, but when he saw Feanor approaching with a torch, he jumped.

He swam to shore. He figured is his family was going to kill him, he might as well leave - the plan had been to go back to his mother, but that was no longer possible.

He ran into a group of Nandor, and joined their community.

His old names didn't fit – he’s no longer the smallest Finwe, having rejected his house. He keeps half his name, and instead of Doomed or Upwards-Exalted, he becomes Exalted-by-Fire; the burning of the ships was what gave him the strength to turn from an evil path.

It takes him a bit to decide on this, dramatic Finwean he is, and in the meantime the Nandor called him Bright Eyes, for the Treelight reflected in his gaze. He says this is a more appropriate name for a horse than a person, and they compromise on calling him Star Bright

So Amrod hangs out is southwest Beleriand, avoiding Sindar and Orcs and Noldor and Men alike for over four hundred years.

The Bragollach, the Nirnaeth; Beleriand isn't safe.

The Nandor decide to go east across the mountains. Amrod decides to see how the Noldor are doing - despite himself, he hopes his brothers are okay. He finds Nargothrond.

He says he is Rodnor Gil-Galad, called in his youth after his hair.  

Orodreth doesn't recognize him - Orodreth is young, born after the division between their families was already stark. Orodreth rarely saw Amrod in Tirion, and everyone saying he looks just like Amras means the brown hair throws him.

Celebrimbor does recognize him.

"What are you doing here?" "I'm trying to avoid our family!" "I thought you were dead!" "Don't you dare tell anyone you met me!" - excerpts from the whispered confrontation in Celebrimbor's workroom

Eventually they agree that yes, Feanorians are terrible and blindly loyal, and they're both glad to be out of it.

They spend time together, a bit, more as escapees from the same cult than out of a desire to reminisce about Tirion.

Celebrimbor accidentally mentions Fingon as if they both know him in public. People ask how Gil-Galad knew him. He fumbles and says they're related. Later he slips and says Celegorm “turned out to be the family disappointment after all.” That makes him pretty obviously Finwean, though he still doesn’t admit who.

Someone tries to draw him out, and spends a whole conversation deliberately referring to Maglor Feanorian, Fingon Fingolfinion, and Finrod Finarfinion.

Rodnor eventually says, “By that manner I suppose I’m Gil-Galad Erenion.” This shuts up the first guy for a moment, but people start speculating how he can be the descendant of multiple kings – did Thingol have any other kids?

 Turin arrives; Rodnor has no opinion of him or of men in general, and no official seat on Orodreth’s council. When the dragon kills Orodreth and kidnaps Findulias, Rodnor leads the survivors away to the south. He feels bad about abandoning them, but the number of soldiers they ‘d lose rescuing her is too high, and just because a life is royal (or family) doesn’t mean it’s more valuable. (Feanor burned a prince, his son, as easily as he killed fishermen.)

His opinion on royalty isn’t widely held though. The people of Nargothrond have decided he is Orodreth’s heir and started calling him Lord Erenion. He declares that Cirdan is lord of the Falas, which gets people to at least decide bring some of their issues elsewhere, and tries not to stress about the details.

So Rodnor is in charge of the Noldor in Sirion. Galadriel is in Doriath. They do meet when it falls, but only for a few hours as the Iathrim refugees settle in, and she speaks more with Cirdan than with him. He tells her of the Nandor tribe he was with and their plans for the journey, and off she goes to the East.

After the council is over and every newcomer has a bed, Rodnor goes to Celebrimbor. They mourn privately those who neither of them dare speak of publically. Rodnor is back in his own rooms long before morning. He spends the next few weeks solemn, but everyone is gloomy after news of another kinslaying.

Gondolin falls. There are suddenly a lot more Noldor in Sirion. Pretty soon they're calling him King. He considers telling them it's not true, that the succession hasn't come to him yet.

On the other hand, having a leader be whoever happens to be the son of the previous leader is kind of silly. The Sindar tribe he was with acknowledged Elwe, but not Dior. Your leader was whoever you trusted to do right by the community. When Denethor died, his son took interim authority, and then they all met and discussed it and decided that actually Enellas knew how to manage people better, and so Denethor’s son stepped down.

If Rodnor squints, this is the same. At the very least, if the Nargothrondrim hated him one of them would have proposed crowning the ten-year-old Eärendil instead. So King Gil-Galad takes up the throne.

 He was on Balar when the attack came. He told himself later he couldn't have stopped it, couldn't have helped. He could guess by how much more enchantingly beautiful the Silmaril around Elwing's neck seemed, that his brothers would attack soon, but not the month or day. And she was a queen, he could not order her to hand over the jewel. So all he did was warn her, not tell her his birth name, or leap across the council table and pull it off her throat. He could not have known there was no time to wait for Eärendil’s return. He had not set a watch on the island towards the city, but he had no reason to.

He did not want to kill his brothers, but he was a king and he could not let that make his decisions.

He can't stop himself from crying when he sees Amras's body. The Feanorians had tried to make a pyre, but must have left with it still burning and the wet sea wind had extinguished it, and the wood had barely caught.

"Relight the pyres."

"Your Majesty?"

"For the dead Feanorians, relight them."

"But they're murderers! They showed no such respect to us." Indeed, the city is still littered with the corpses of Noldor, Men, and Sindar alike.

"And we are better than they are. We will bury our dead, with a week of singing and lamenting, and tales of their deeds told by friends and kin. We will mark our people’s graves, and the Men will leave grave goods on theirs. And we will not leave the enemy dead to rot where they lie or be eaten by beasts, though they showed us not that respect." He sighed. "We have not fallen as they have, and we must hold onto that."

"Yes, your majesty"

"Have someone take a census of those who are left. And lists of the dead – ours and theirs." He needs to know how strong the rogue army was. If it is now leaderless, he would... he isn't sure. He wouldn’t have to declare a feast for victory over the Kinslayers, they'd lost enough of their own. But some kind of amnesty, with reparations, if any Feanorian soldiers wanted to rejoin... He thinks of the abstract plans now, while he is unsure, because he knows he'll barely be able to keep together if Maedhros and Maglor are dead and he is alone. (Three died last time.)

His eldest brothers are not among the dead invaders.

Lady Elwing and her sons are not found, either dead or living. Gil-Galad knows that his brothers would have no interest in taking her prisoner, for if she was under their power they could rip their glorious, wonderful jewel from her neck and cast her aside like so much wrapping. So he assumes that instead Elwing got away somehow, taking her sons with her. Whether the Feanorians have the jewel or she does is unimportant, he reminds himself, at least unless she returns. He decides then that Balar will never house the Silmaril – he'll bury it beneath the mountains with his own two hands if that's what it takes. His people deserve one place, just one, that isn't destroyed around them. Please Valar, grant them this, for Cirdan's sake if for none of the Noldor.

Ships come one day out of the West. King Finarfin leads them, and Eärendil is with them. Eärendil says that his wife Elwing escaped, but not the boys. (Eärendil is politely told he must either take off the necklace, stay on his ship, or go to the mainland.)

Gil-Galad realizes where they must be. It's hardly fair, but he knows at least they're being treated as well as can be. Maedhros and Maglor did alright by the five of them, and have never been cruel to children.

No one else seems so optimistic, though they are willing to believe that the boys are alive, even after seven years, simply to avoid believing the alternative. Gil-Galad and Finarfin cooperate to get a letter and a messenger (a newly arrived Noldo) that will be demanding but – hopefully – not provoke violence.

It takes two years more, with messengers from both parties expressing grave concern for the boys’ safety on a journey and reluctant to meet the other too close, but Elros and Elrond are returned. They meet Eärendil again, but he is on the front lines and so they spend most of their time in the camp. Gil-Galad has them sit in on strategy meetings to keep them occupied.

 The war is over, Morgoth is defeated, and the Noldor are allowed to return.

Gil-Galad finds he doesn’t want to.

Returning had been as much about getting out of Feanor’s shadow as finding safety, and he realizes he has done the first and the second is near at hand. If he goes back to Tirion, he will be again Pityafinwe, one of Feanor’s youngest sons, half of the twins with a missing twin. The child so redundant his own mother had known so, and asked Feanor to leave her one of the youngest without care for which. Pityafinwe had led no armies, fought no battles, earned no praise. Pityafinwe killed Teleri and was murdered by his father, and did nothing else.

Sure, he could try to be both, admit he was Pityafinwe to start with, but no one will understand. The will see him as the usurper of the crown that should have gone to – Eärendil perhaps?  and then Elros? or Galadriel? Maybe they’ll weigh his victories in battle against his theft of the crown, and say they make up for it, but maybe they’ll say anyone could have done them, or he should have done them as a general in the real King’s army. So he’d be Pityafinwe, who pretended to be a king for a bit but understands now that it’s not his place, and that his place is to be the sixth-born son of the (dead, disgraced) Crown Prince.

Besides, they’re making the ‘leaders’ apologize for leaving, and Gil-Galad spent enough years wandering Beleriand safe behind Noldorin fortresses he can’t really be sorry they came.

Gil-Galad does write a letter though, to the Lady Nerdanel, his mother. He tells people that it’s commendations for her grandson’s valor, and assurance that Celebrimbor will be regarded on his own merits in the Age to come. The letter does contain those, but it also contains “You were half right about my mother-name; I was fated to die but leapt out of Fate’s way.” It’s rather blasphemous, but Gil-Galad isn’t going to be setting foot near the Valar again.

ao3

[nerdanel-istarnie]

No space left for Noldor blood

//So that’s my entry for Feanorian’s week about Maedhros’s childhood. Maedhros realises it's unseemly that the third in line to the crown doesn't have the family's black hair. Fingon disagrees. Curufin just likes to eat it. 

  It’s on A3O too: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10390731

=========================================

Maedhros’ eyes were pensive as he watched Curufin toddle around, leaning on the bannister of the inner courtyard. The eldest son of Fëanor was usually the first to play with his younger brothers, caring and doting on them while their parents were busy. There was a remoteness in him now that made Maglor’s heart clench. He knelt next to Curufin who imperiously demanded to be taken up by pulling on the musician’s shoulder sleeve. Drawing his brother in his arms, he noted how unwieldy this was starting to get. Maedhros managed better but then he had the experience of several baby brothers growing into young limbed youngsters. Smiling at his oldest brother, he came to join him on the terrace. Curufin wasted no time grasping toward Maedhros, who begrudgingly got nearer. Curufin picked up one of the copper strands and pulled. Maglor laughed, trying with one hand to extricate the braid without letting go. When he succeeded, Maedhros face was even somber, if it was at all possible.

“What is it Nelyo? I remember Curvo stuffing your hair in his mouth before with you being far less troubled” The taller elf made a noncommittal answer, muted reassurances that everything was fine and Maglor put his younger brother down, now fairly alarmed “Tell me. You know anything that grieves you grieves me even more so”

Maedhros looked at the departing toddler, words coming only when their brother sat down and started eating purple lilies “Tyelko cares not at all he has silver hair. He says he likes being different. He doesn’t get lectures about spending time in the forge and can ride his nightmare of a horse all around Tirion without being bothered. He thinks it’s because it reminds father of Miriel”

Maglor was bemused. Maedhros was bothered by hair? But before he could ask, his brother forged on, still not looking at him “I went to the palace with Father and Curvo earlier. Finwë wanted to see his grandson’’ He gestured to the flower-eating elf ‘’Father thought he might enjoy Curvo’s new habit of saying no to things offered to him and then going to get them by himself. Apparently, it’s an action Father did himself in youth. Then uncle Nolofinwë had the terrible idea of dropping by with Findekáno unexpectedly. You can imagine that the afternoon became quite frosty. But it gave me plenty of time to observe” He continued paying little attention to Maglor, twisting the red hair between his fingers ‘‘I think no one would know I am from the line of Finwë if I stopped wearing the circlet”

He suddenly focused on his brother, grey eyes suddenly filled with remorse “I love Mother of course, you know that! And Mahtan. But father named me Nelyafinwë did he not? Something I am hardly in temperament or in looks. Or worse, perhaps I do take after Finwë but not enough after Father, and I irk him the way uncle Nolofinwë irks him’’ He lapsed into a brief silence ‘’If it wasn’t for him being called Curufinwë already, I think Curvo would better suited to my name than I am. He bit Fingon and father laughed! What a thing to teach a child”

Maglor snickered but Maedhros seemed unamused “I took him out with me to get some air” Maglor tried lightly “He has a temper that’s certain. A bit of air might have gotten him out of his snit” Maedhros corrected him “I took Findekáno out not Curvo. Curvo was busy being fawned over’’ His own unkind tone made him mad at himself. Curufin was not at fault here ‘’Note that after I suggested it, Findekáno forgot all his hurt from the bite and I don’t think all the hounds of Oromë could have pulled him away from my side. Those meetings must be so tedious for him’’ He frowned ‘’And hurtful”

The musician sighed ‘’Findekáno likes you. You take him with you on adventures and keep him safe. You teach him things and listen to him. He has no big brother but you’’ Maglor took his brother’s arm, stopping his harsh twists on his hair and returning to the subject at hand “You never say anything cross at any of them, I would never have thought it bothered you. I don’t think anyone knows it bothers you. Really Nelyo, you are a fine son and an even finer brother. I’m certain no one tough you less of the house of Finwë because of your hair. Everyone loves your hair!” “Yes. It’s a curiosity’’ Seeing the retort on his brother’s lips, he conceded ‘’It’s beautiful, I know. But I would rather have black hair. And it’s not the crux of the matter, my character is. The hair is just a reminder”

From afar they heard the powerful horn of Curvo crying. Maedhros all but ran to his brother, only to find him kicking Findekáno’s shin while jumping for a delicate kite the young Nolofinwean was holding aloft above his head ‘’I did nothing. He saw me playing with the kite and wanted it. It’s unsafe for him. I didn’t mean to make him cry’’

Maedhros picked up Curufin, who was still bawling while reaching for the colourful silk bird ‘’Do not let it trouble you. He likes purple things these days’’ Reassured his kite was safely out of Curvo’s reach, Fingon held it close to his chest, eyeing the toddler with distrust. Curufin, filled with anger still, took two full hands of Nelyo’s hair and shoved them in his mouth. The immediate silence was only broken when Maglor exploded laughing ‘’See. He likes red too’’ Maedhros let a polite smile grace his lips, not wanting to reopen their earlier debate in front of their cousin. Fingon for his part was staring quite openly at Maedhros’ hair and blurted out ‘’I like your hair. It looks like a waterfall made of fire’’ Maglor looked far too pleased with himself but Maedhros snapped, rage flashing in his eyes ‘’Maybe there was so much fire in my conception that there wasn’t any space left for Noldor blood’’

It was a testament to his nascent courage that Fingon did not flee after such a comment and retorted ‘’You are the only one able to withstand grandfather’s unending meetings with the Vanyar without going cross-eyed. You wouldn’t be able to do that if you weren’t his grandson. And you are so patient. If I hear about Cuivenen one more time I’ll go live in the woods with the beasts to relive it instead!’’ Maedhros was taken by surprise by the speech, but Fingon forged on, not leaving the taller elf’s eyes a second ‘’You treat me like family. Even when people are looking! Plus, you don’t give me ‘’that’’ look’’. Maglor inquired about the nature of said look. What followed was a very approximate impression of Fëanor glaring, as rendered by a young gangly elf holding a purple sparrow kite. It broke Maedhros’ heart. Somehow, the idea of not being like his father at this moment made Maedhros feel more at peace rather than less. Slowly Maedhros smiled at his cousin’s ridiculous display ‘’Yes, my strengths lie not in glaring’’ Curufin gurgled and spit out a braid. Now was the time to bring him back home.

Maedhros transferred Curufin to Maglor ‘’Thank you for the compliments Findekáno. They were strange’’ Findekáno earnest face scrunched in disappointment ‘’But welcome’’ And then the light of his smile was back. Not for the first time Maedhros was amazed by how easily his cousin’s mood turned with only a word from him.

As they were walking home, Maedhros could feel how much Maglor wanted to talk and pushing the gooey strand of hair behind his shoulder he looked at his brother expectantly ‘’Well?’’ Maglor nearly had a skip in his step ‘’I have no better qualifier than ‘waterfall of fire’ really’’ Maedhros groaned ‘’He’s young. He doesn’t understand…’’ the red-haired elf trailed off, slipping back into his earlier mood. Maglor was having none of it ‘’Understand what? I felt he understood very clearly. He saw you are a fine study for a statesman, a fair one that doesn’t begrudge him his lineage’’ The eldest said nothing. But touching the end of one of his unmaimed braids he smiled as he looked over his shoulder at the purple kite flying high about the line of the trees. ‘’Perhaps there was some wisdom in his words’’