#lady of thargelion

[starsofarda]

Hello and welcome to a new installment of "Stars presents another OC".

EDIT: tagging @peasant-player for giving me rope <3

And this time it's Caranthir's wife.

Yes, I love the thing he and Haleth have going on, but this Elf was one of the three married SoF, and I think his actual wife deserves a good mention.

So. Here she is.

Túrenis Artuilë (Quenya) // Merildis (Sindarin)

(Yes, it's a piccrew, I needed visuals quickly)

Name meaning:

Quenya: Woman who wields / Dayspring

Sindarin: Rose Bride

Bio

She is born in Aman and she is a Healer - an apothecary, to be precise. In her spare time she enjoys the art of Ikebana. She is poised and although she does not speak much, she always makes a point of expressing her opinion in the most effective way.

She first sees Caranthir when he comes over to find a good solution to the red rash plaguing his face (and body), thanks to which he got the name "Red Face" - Caranthir with psoriasis anyone?

She complies with the request, even helps him with advice on how to keep it under control.

Caranthir is head over heels for her, but he is also... how do I say it politely... Emotionally constipated. Like, you will know when he is angry, but not when he has other emotions, bc he is also suffering from Resting Bitch Face Syndrome, so you kind of default him as being constantly angry.

And likewise he is not the talkative type, unless ofc it's about business, or weaving, or any special interest he might have.

It's one of those things that happen bit by bit. He becomes a regular customer, she starts noticing his mood changes when they are together and also notices all the sillines and goofiness hiding underneath that Resting Bitch Face.

He loves how quiet she isand how she always says what she thinks and in a matter of a short time they are dating.

Feanor and Nerdanel are SO DAMN NOSEY, who is the mysterious girl who is dating their son?

The brothers have mixed reactions, but it's Maglor the one absolutely beaming. He has a whole playlist ready in case Caranthir wants to sing her a serenade, or dedicate a serenade to her.

And finally she gets introduced to the rest of the family. Because she says what she thinks, but is also VERY diplomatic, she survives all family dinners, even the ones with Nolo and Arvo and their families.

Caranthir finally proposes and they get married in autumn.

Not much time after the Flight of the Noldor, the Oath of Feanor etc happen.

Turenis is on the fence about the whole situation. She loves her husband, his family and all, but there are too many things happening at once and she has to decide quickly what she wants to do.

She decides to follow Caranthir. It is a very risky situation, but she has just married him and wants to be supportive. Caranthir does tell her that if she wants to stay in Aman he will not resent her, because the stakes are high and he would love for her to be happy.

They are very in love, but they are not really making logical decisions, probably because everyone around them is in a sort of frenzy. In any case, they stay together.

Doomed, but in love.

Theirs is a huge case of "the love was there. It didn't fix anything, but the love was there." - cit.

Fast forward to ME - we know what happens in the meantime - Caranthir establishes himself as Lord of Thargelion Turenis is Lady of Thargelion too.

Their life, Feanorian bullshittery aside, is fairly quiet. Turenis is the one providing ailments and treatments for those fighting against Morgoth.

When Caranthir's people first meet the Dwarves, it is Turenis who convinces Caranthir that allying with them could be a table turner. And indeed it is.

When Haleth and her people arrive in Thargelion, Turenis becomes friends with her first, thus opening a path towards mutual aid.

Needless to say, Turenis will be very sad when Haleth leaves for Brethil.

After the Second Kinslaying Turenis is hit with the news that Caranthir has died in battle. She is absolutely destroyed. She is welcomed in Maedhros and Maglor's realm, but she mostly keeps to herself.

She becomes silent, mourning the loss she has experienced. She helps a bit in raising E&E, but she does not have the energy to be fully there.

Before M&M decide to go on the suicide mission of getting the Silmarils back from the Valar's camp, after the War of Wrath, they beg Galadriel to take Turenis in.

Galadriel almost does not want to reply, but she remembers quiet Turenis. When she meets her, she sees only pain. And takes her in as her attendant, taking her away from active battlefield.

When Galadriel and Caleborn establish Lothlorien, Turenis follows. She fully adopts her Sindarin name of Merildis and becomes the Lady in Waiting of Galadriel.

She will sail back to Aman once the War of the Ring is finished and in Aman she will reunite with the re-embodied Caranthir.

Together they will lead a relatively peaceful life from there. There may or may not be children, but I have yet to decide on that.

So.

What do you think?

[lcmion]

"You do seem a bit lost. It appears you've come a long way. It is fairly cold and I can heal your wounds." ( @the-lady-of-thargelion )

Inbox Answered---

--- Maeglin was looking very much like a drowned cat, curls and cloak clinging to his skin. The storm had come on quickly, separating Maeglin from his father and causing him to lose his way. He'd fallen quite a steep ravine, cuts and bruises still standing out upon his pale skin. He was frightened ( though he'd never admit it ) but the fact he'd found anyone or anything was a miracle.

Yet here he was, in the hall of some fortress, being looked after by a very kind elleth. The lady of this place. He bowed his head in respect.

"Thank you, hiril vuin. I would be most grateful." He took a cursory glance around the room. "Would you. . . Tell me where I am? My ada and I were heading back from Nogrod when we became separated by the storm." His mother would be worried sick when she found out.

[caranthir-teldamo]

starter for @the-lady-of-thargelion | Moryo and Turenis

Moryo sprinkled a little finely chopped basil into the pasta dish and squeezed a slice of lemon over each steaming bowl to garnish. It smelled wonderful, and his stomach growled in anticipation.

Eager to show Turenis the pepper and garlic pasta he'd made, he placed the bowls on the table. He'd put the finest table cloth (a rich, silk red one) on to protect the wood, and he had a candle stick placed on the table, as well as scattered rose petals.

Moryo, in his research to learn how to properly court his wife before they married, learned that things like this were considered romantic. As far as he was concerned the rose petals were a waste of good flowers, but it was a small sacrifice to make Turenis happy and keep her distracted from the worry and fear in such (literal) dark times.

"Turenis," he called for her and he lit a match, and started lighting the candles. When that was done, he quickly took off and hung the apron on the back of his seat, and finger combed his hair so he would look presentable for her. "I have dinner ready."

[caranthir-teldamo]

Roasted bell pepper and goats cheese sandwiches, his favourite. Moryo felt very spoiled, it was hard not to feel touched by little things like this.

"You have thought of everything, thank you." He praised his wife, suddenly ravenous at the sight of this lovely picnic Turenis made for them both.

Moryo grasped one of those sandwiches, placing it on his plate and waiting for his wife to be seated and comfortable before eating. As he was taught to be.

"Did you include your favourites too?"

❝ i belong to you. only ever you. ❞ ( from @caranthir-teldamo )

"Oh, dearest. My darling heart." Turenis chuckled softly, blushing just a bit. "I too, belong to you only."

People never believed her when she told that Moryo was ever the most romantic Elf on Arda.

[aotearoa20]

correspondence and revelations shortly after Dagor Bragollach for @silmarillionepistolary

To, Caranthir Morifinwë Fëanorian Lord of the East

Dear cousin, it is with great sorrow which I greet you. The attacks of the Enemy took us all by surprise and I mourn the blow the loss of Thargelion will surely have on us all. Though I had never the chance to visit I had heard many great things of the eastern mountains, they were fair to behold, I am told, and I know that you loved it there. Still it gladdens me to hear that you and yours escaped for the most part unscathed. Know whatever aid and support we can spare is already on its way to you as you receive this letter.

I'm sure you know already that Celegorm and Curufin have taken up refuge among my people. You should know you they are well and whole. They, along with I, have sent letters detailing their arrival and stay. I have also sent some papers detailing preliminary adjustments to traderoutes and logistics for delivering aid among our people and allies. I am sure you have more than enough plans of your own and as always i defer to you judgement on such matters.

But all this aside I had another matter I wished to inform you of concerning one of the people of Haleth in Brethil. I have kept it to myself for some time but if anything has come from these last days is that none of us knows when doom will rear its head.

The Lady Haleth herself I met only a few times, when negotiating the terms of her people’s dwelling, and found her to be a woman of brusque and bright countenance. Indeed, when I learnt of her dealings with you I thought that the pair of you must have gotten on like a house on fire, else hated each other entirely. But I digress.

It was upon one of those meetings when I saw a child, I reckoned at the time, perhaps five by the count of Men often about her dwelling. No husband she ever spoke of nor did I ask. The child had her likeness and hearing of the tradgey that claimed the rest of her family, I thought perhaps his father had perished with her kin.

In truth, I thought little of it at all until some years ago, on a visit to the city of Menegroth, when I found a youth milling about the edges of the Girdle. It must have been two hundred years since I’d last seen him, the Haladin had since had two chieftains but the boy looked no older than twenty. He named himself a changeling in his own tongue and told me his father was one of the Eldar.

Erestor he called himself in Sindarin for though he’d lived among his people, at on the request of his mother had not taken her title. Instead he stayed as a counseler for his cousin and later his children and grandchildren. (The translation is a bit off I deem but he having learned more seems loath to correct it and resistant to advice) Either way, wishing to learn more of his father’s people and had come to Doriath to see if he may by his blood be permitted. I spoke with him a while and finding him genuine in his desire, brought him with me and vouched for him before Elu Thingol, the King.

Since then he visits the city every few summers and then returns to his people before the snows set in. He has had little trouble of it, for his mother’s features hide much of his fathers heritage and he is wont to pass through, drawing as little attention to himself as he can. But I found him curious and upon further investigation and despite his protests to the contrary, I am certain his father is Noldorin. In fact, on those rare occasions he does smiles without restrain cousin - were it not for his quiet temperament I know he did not inherit from his mother - I would have wondered if he was your own.

At any rate, considering the time and circumstances I first found him, it's likely it is that his father is among your people. I can think of any number of reasons such a thing would have been hidden from offical records but I truly doubt it could have happened without your knowledge. To the point, I thought, especially in the chaos of these days, you might pass on some news of the boy’s well being. I have had news from Brethil, written in the the his hand, they are well, if overwhelmed with refugees from Dor Lomin. But he is safe. Perhaps that might comfort his kin in Amon Ereb. And perhaps you could tell him that his child is a scholar in training. That he is happy, as much as any of us can be, and untouched by doom or darkness. May he remain so.

I hope I have not overstepped in my assumptions. Always I have hesitated in speaking on this subject. I just have with the loss of don't want to leave anything unsaid that ought to be.

That is all.

As I detailed before, i have sent ahead letters pertaining to more practical means. I have no doubt in your prompt reply. I wish you well, cousin. May Tilion watch your steps before the Dawn breaks.

Finrod Felagund King of Nargothrond

[jolidei]

Of Celegorm and Caranthir.

Caranthir : My son, Artaresto, what's he like?

Celegorm : Does he not writte to you?

Caranthir : Less and less in these days.

Celegorm : Is an adolescent now. Letters, perhaps, hold less of his interest.

Celegorm : He's stalwart. Clever. As adept with his lute as he with his sword, and a feature in the fancies of many young lady or lord, I'll wager.

Celegorm : He's kind.

Caranthir : That's good.

Caranthir : Kindness it's a quality, I've found lacking in our family.

Celegorm : You did well to send him to Nargothrond, guess it seems Thargelion for all privileges, may in fact, be a less, than salubrious environment for the forming a young elf.

Caranthir : Was in Thargelion or was it their Atar?

Celegorm : I'm sure you did your best.

[curufiin]

“Brother in law? I don’t even- I don’t even know you!”

“…yes you do. That’s Moryo’s wife. You were at the wedding.”

“Moryo doesn’t have a wife!” Curufin is laying down with his head on the table, staring up at Turenis sideways. “Who are you? What are you talking about? What net?”

Celegorm sighed forcefully. “Sorry, Curvo can’t really handle alcohol.”

"I heard you tried stealing my herbs for poisoning purposes." (Turenis / @the-lady-of-thargelion )

//it's always starsofarda with the other oc - hope you don't mind

“I-” how the hell did she know about that? Then again, Beleg did make quite the spectacle out of it. Curufin downed yet another shot. He was getting a bit tipsy. “…it was just some stupid berries. No big deal.”

Celegorm stared at Curufin. “Maybe you should stop drinking, Curvo. You and I both know how you get when you’re drunk.”

“And be called a sissy? Fuck no. I’d rather die.”

[cilil]

Summer Stories

Prompt: Splash | Caranthir x Haleth Synopsis: Haleth messes with her favorite grumpy Elf lord Warnings: /

"Lady Haleth! This is hardly appropriate! I must insist–" 

A shriek, then a splash. 

Caranthir Fëanorion, Prince of the Noldor, Lord of Thargelion, had been mercilessly thrown into the pool at his residence and reduced to a sopping mess of limbs and fabric, flailing around. 

"Oh Caranthir, don't tell me you came all the way across the sea without knowing how to swim!" Haleth laughed and jumped after him. 

"Of course I can swim! It is but one of many–"

She scooped him up in her arms before he could regain his footing and kissed his brow, silencing his protest. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @numenhore @urwendii

[the-elusive-soleil]

All right, I know there's Lore that married elves are discernible by means of eye contact, but does anyone know if it says anywhere whether this is also true for elf/mortal couples? If so, is it true for both of them or can you only tell with the elf?

Yes this is about Halenthir, you got me.

Because in a scenario where the Haladin ultimately settle in Thargelion (maybe because they mistakenly approached Thingol speaking Quenya?), I can see Caranthir and Haleth getting married but they're still being professional about titles and stuff, and Caranthir messing with one of his visiting brothers by saying "This is my neighbor, Lady Haleth of the Haladin". And said brother takes a good look at them, rolls his eyes, and says, "Moryo, can't you just introduce us to your wife like a normal person?"

Alternatively, the visiting brother notices that Caranthir is married, but can't figure out who he married, and Caranthir has way too much fun trying to draw out the guessing. There haven't been any known elf/human couples before, so when he tells them to "quit only guessing elves! It could be one of the Haladin!", they think he's joking.

Alternatively, the bond isn't visible on either of them, and barely anybody knows that Haleth and Caranthir are married unless they let something slip. His brothers don't find out for decades, at the earliest.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

"What I see"

Pairing: Caranthir/Haleth

Themes: Soft | Fluff | Very Mild NSFW

Warnings: Insecurity

Wordcount: 500+words

Summary: Before an important feast Haleth feels insecure about the clothes she 's wearing, and how the others would react to her.

This ficlet was inspired by @thelien-art piece on Caranthir and Haleth

Minors DNI

Also available on AO3

Haleth regarded her gown in the looking glass's reflection and despaired. The dress was elegantly made, but when compared to the robes favored by elven ladies, it looked like kitchen rags.

Too simple, she thought. Not enough rich embroidery. No gold. No jewels.

Her companion had offered her as many robes and jewelry and furs as she wished to wear for the feast, and she had refused it all because of her own pride. Now, as she regarded her choice of raiment, she deeply regretted her decision to refuse him. She would be formally introduced to the others as the consort of a high elven lord tonight, and she looked nothing like the sort.

What was I thinking? She lifted the hem of her sleeve and sighed hopelessly when all she found was simple threadwork and nothing more elaborate than that. Why did I not say yes?

“There is no cause for you to fret, my love,” Caranthir declared by the doorway, resplendent as always. The gold and wine of his robes went splendidly with his warm, ruddy skin. Rubies around his wrists and throat and ears caught the light whenever he moved. He was a vision made flesh, and he was hers. “You look glorious, truly.”

She turned to face him, her eyes bright with wicked humor. “And you, my lord, are as gifted a liar as your brother, Curufin.”

“High praise indeed,” he agreed, smiling. “I lie to a great many people, my love, and with great relish at that, but not to you. Never to you. Surely you know this.”

His lady blushed—a rare thing with her. Haleth would take on a hundred orcs, their swords and their arrows and their fell beasts without a moment’s hesitation, but when faced with sincere words of love and adoration, she was rendered speechless.

“The others,” she began after another glance at the looking glass. “The others will not approve. They will only see a daughter of the Edain, one who does not even possess a single trinket worthy of their regard.”

Caranthir smiled and came forward, slipping his arms around her and holding her in a loose embrace. “I will tell you what our guests will see,” he uttered, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. Haleth lifted her eyes, and found his gleaming with pride. “They will see what I see: a proud chieftess, a fierce warrior who defied death’s many efforts to claim her for its own, the one who opened my eyes to the great courage that dwelt within the hearts of those like her. And they will also see what I want them to see.”

“Which is?”

“My companion and my love. If they do not approve of you, I will be more than happy to show them the door.”

Haleth blushed, deeply moved. “As long as you do not call them choice epithets while you do so,” she counseled. “I know a thing or two about your temper, Moryo, and I urge you to curb it. Thargelion cannot afford the loss of your kinsmen’s support.”

“I shall be the embodiment of regal comportment,” Caranthir returned, his dark eyes sparkling. “Now come, my love. We must not keep the others waiting.”

[caranthir-teldamo]

"You are a blessing," Caranthir replied, his smile tight from discomfort. He was grateful for her consideration of his pain and his needs, he was glad she stayed by his side despite everything.

The pain was burned, like fire. The healers said it was nerve damage, a phantom wound left on his body from the infection and continuously ripped stitches in his leg. Perhaps living in pain for the rest of his life was his punishment for slaying yet more elves, he saw the effect it had on his other brothers and considered himself better off.

Caranthir's thumb stroked Turenis' knuckles.

"Apparently Curvo doesn't have as many braincells I gave him credit for."

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Daily Life, Customs - Halenthir

I originally didn't want to post this to Tumblr (because I am very lazy), but the replies were too good not to put them up!

I shall submit to you the letter such as it's been written by me, and the replies I've gotten <3

To Lady Haleth, daughter of Haldad, independent noblewoman agent abiding in the vicinity,

I beg you to forgive me for addressing this appallingly forward impertinent missive to one undoubtedly as busy as you, but I merely seek to reassure you on the delicate subject of the caravans of strangers that might well cross your territory anon.

Fear not, Milady, ‘tis due to the tax season and—as such—of no concern to you. I shan’t bore you with the tiresome details of the administrative proceedings and laws underlying this process as you’ve previously informed me, in no unclear terms and on more than one occasion, that my “lordly dog and pony show” left you entirely pococurante.

Thus, I only wish to duly advise you, as any good friend neighbour would, of the upcoming upheaval so you may take the precautions you deem necessary for your own safety and that of your people.

As you’re not one of my subjects, though, I do not, in whatever shape or form, lay any claim on the fruits of your labour or any other part of your precious life. This, as you may have deduced correctly, is another sincere vow I seek to reiterate solemnly.

Verily, no secret design nor nefarious ploy moves me to regrettably rusty penmanship! I prythee, do not doubt my best intentions on the grounds of a probably less-than-sublime execution—be more merciful and forgiving than my kin would have been.

In hopes that your health is excellent and your mood amenable to forgive so impudent a communication, I dare extend my most affectionate respectful greetings to you.

Morifinwë Carnistir, Lord of Thargelion (even though a group of unruly louts, pelting me with offal and ugly produce, has been known to confer the ungracious title of “cranky red-faced ghoul” upon me).

(to rewrite after the meeting)

To Carnistir Morifinwë, son of the flammable Elf and his crafty wife, brother to many a fearsome warrior, Lord of Thargelion, and so on and so forth,

Greetings! You stuffy, old fool! (I call you “Poppy” in private for you’re enchantingly dark, beautifully red, and all around utterly mind-addling, but that is—as you’d say—of “no consequence” in these matters. Nevertheless, if you’re dismayed by the juvenile misbehaviour of the previously referenced ne’er-do-wells, I shall take it upon myself to chide them appropriately—you might not be our Lord, but I dare consider you a respected neighbour, nevertheless.)

It seems that a dutiful servant has sent off your draft before you could amend it—it gladdens my heart to learn that even the mighty Elven Lord in his draughty fortress doesn’t write a perfect letter on the first try. I shall cherish this missive (as well as its proof of endearing fallibility and uncertainty) until my dying day!

Furthermore, I’m delighted to earnestly assure you that I—unlike you—am indeed not in the habit of being overly discountenanced by passing strangers, wishing me no harm, and paying me no heed. Thus, there’s certainly no need to upset your delicate stomach on my behalf.

Moreover, I want to generously remind you that—whatever you think to claim or not from me—you know where to find me; my door is always open, and I’d be honoured to welcome you in my humble abode.

Link on Ao3

[findor-son-of-finloth]

Welcome post

Hi, this is an independent roleplay blog for @starsofarda ’s OC Findor, originally mentioned by @cottoncandiescupcakes in their post, linked below.

Kindly thanking @Nuruhine for giving me rope after this post :D

OG post here.

I am following from my main, @lhaewiel

I am open to all, just message me :)

🐟 RULES

🐟 CHARACTER INFO AND BIO

🐟 FAMILY TREE AND TIMELINE

🐟 VERSES

🐟 RELATIONSHIPS

🐟 FINDOR HCS

🐟 FINDOR ART

🐟 FINDOR FICS

🐟 ROLEPLAY WISHLIST

MUSES:

@sewing-elven-maid // @the-lady-of-thargelion // @elenor-elenis // @findor-son-of-finloth // @namoinmandos

[sewing-elven-maid]

((Hi. Because I have the self-control of a cat knocking down a cup from the table, here's my new rp blog with another OC of mine.

@elenor-elenis ))

((And of course I also have Turenis here: @the-lady-of-thargelion ))

((And OFC good old Molinde here: @sewing-elven-maid ))

((Feel free to bother them all!!!))

[warhornofgondor]

"I am sorry for the loss of your husband. What befell him?"

The strength of Man. Was there not also envy, wrath, and pride? Those weaknesses that the forces of evil exploited; manipulating goodness. Despite the heavy atmosphere, the offer of a seat and a willingness to listen remained open.

The lure of a listening ear, coupled with his own burning questions, proved too strong. With a resigned exhale he sat beside her.

"How...how do I ignore these doubts? What if I succumb like others before me? The Nine were Men once, too."

Merildis smiled sadly. This man seemed very troubled, and yet prideful. Perhaps he was not ready for any conversation and she understood. She saddened at the news of Gandalf's loss. She had known the wizard, as he would cross Lothlorien, but she would never have imagined that she would grieve him.

She offered an olive branch.

You remind me of my late husband. He carried the same look of yours, during the last moments I spent with him. He was very dear to me.

She sighed softly, lost in her thoughts for a moment.

And yet I know you are not going to fail. I have seen the strength of your kind and always admired it. It is the shadow of evil placing doubts in your heart.

She hoped to comfort him.

[ceescedasticity]

fic: not titled yet but it's another absence of evidence thing, part 1 out of probably 3?

At Narvi's usual greeting question at their monthly meetings — "And what are you working on today, my friend?" — Celebrimbor made a face.

"Something that does not agree with me at all," he said. "I have been writing."

"But you draw runes so beautifully!" Narvi replied, mock-shocked.

"Very funny." Celebrimbor slumped back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "It has occurred to me that if I am going to put my grandfather's star on my city, I should make sure our history has a better account of his descendants than Loremaster Pengolodh has thus far written. Perhaps my father and uncles do not deserve it, but my cousins and my sister do."

Narvi blinked. "I… did not know you had a sister?"

"It seems most people do not. You would think they would deduce I had a mother, but for some reason people seem surprised when I mention her, too. Never mind— Actually, would you mind reading some of my drafts?"

"Not at all."

"I mean to show the finished work to Lady Galadriel, but not… this." Celebrimbor opened a desk drawer — one of the ones with a puzzle-lock — and drew out a sheaf of messy papers. "Here, here's what I have for my mother and sister—"

Curufin wed the jeweler Maltarainë Maltataniel Maltraen Maltheniel Maltwegiel.

"I forgot for a moment that that grandfather did live long enough to take a Sindarin name… We did see him occasionally in Beleriand, but he fell out with Atya — I think Atya made some insensitive remarks about my maternal uncles — and went to follow my uncle Caranthir instead, so we were not close."

Narvi raised his eyebrows. "If I recall the history correctly, the Lord of Thargelion was, ah, not particularly known for sensitivity himself…"

"No. I can only assume my maternal uncles never came up in Caranthir's presence."

As one might expect of the woman Curufin wed, she was a skilled artisan and entirely loyal to Fëanor, as were all her nearest family. Maltraen carried the feud where Nerdanel was unwilling to, among the noblewomen of Tirion. She was as disrespectful to Indis and Anairë as she could get away with, and actively pursued rivalries with Edhellos and Elenwë. Even when there was friendship between Curufin and Angrod, Maltraen and Edhellos remained at odds, though some said there was a kinship buried under the rivalry. And when distance grew between Fëanor and Nerdanel, Maltraen turned against Nerdanel as well.

The paragraph had been written out and struck through twice. "I gather you're not sure about this part?"

"It seems… sordid, I suppose. Like something that would be included to make people think worse of her. It's just so… foundational to how I remember Amil that I don't want to cut it out completely." Celebrimbor sighed. "I don't think Atya even knew how she got about Grandmother in Formenos. She never did it in hearing of him or my uncles — or my grandfather. That would have gone over poorly. Grandfather didn't always speak well of Grandmother, either, but he was the only one permitted to do that."

Narvi would have liked to attribute all this to elvish dysfunctionality, but it strict honesty there were dwarven houses nearly as bad. (Nearly.) Instead of trying to unpack any of it, he asked, "Were Angrod and Edhellos married? I'm not recalling those names."

"What? Oh, yes. Angrod was one of Lady Galadriel's brothers — not Felagund, she had two others — and Edhellos was his wife. They were also Gil-galad's grandparents." Celebrimbor reached for a pen. "I'll at least put in the rivalry with Edhellos. And I should mention Indis and Anairë."

Maltraen carried the feud where Nerdanel was unwilling to, among the noblewomen of Tirion. Her rivalry with Edhellos wife of Angrod was a regular fixture of Finwe's court. Even when there was friendship between Curufin and Angrod, Maltraen and Edhellos remained at odds, though some said there was a kinship buried under the rivalry. Nor was Maltraen a friend to Indis or to the wives of the house of Fingolfin.

"How's that?"

"Easier to understand," Narvi agreed. "Only the wives?"

"She wasn't trying to pick fights with Lady Galadriel or Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, no."

Curufin and Maltraen had a son Celebrimbor; much has already been written of him and he dwells yet in Middle-earth. But they also had a daughter, Heledhwen. She was the delight of everyone in Formenos.

"Not a position I envied her."

All who knew Maltraen wife of Curufin would have predicted she would be among the first to follow Fëanor on his quest, but she was not. Like many of Fëanor's followers, Maltraen was in Formenos when Morgoth came; like all others in Formenos save Finwë himself, she fled from Morgoth's approach. After Morgoth left with the Silmarils, those who had fled dispersed in various ways. Some went to inform Fëanor; some went to seek help; some set up temporary camp. Maltraen was one of those who ventured into the holdfast to see what had happened there. They confirmed Finwë's death and the ransacking of the treasury.

"Where were you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all. I was wasting everyone's time trying to convince my uncle Amras that I was old enough to be part of the perimeter they were setting up."

"How old were you?"

"Old enough, but Amras was the baby of the family and took being older than me very seriously, so he would never admit that. Hence it being a waste of time."

While more messengers went forth, Maltraen remained inside Formenos, to tend to Finwë's body. She was aided by others, some of whom had dealt with bodies before in Cuiviénen or in the aftermath of accidents, but she was there the entire time until Fëanor returned, in near-darkness, in the wreckage.

"I'm not sure I'm… conveying properly, the bravery it took to do that, under those circumstances. The Darkening— Well, I'm not the only one who struggles with that."

Fëanor arrived and screamed wailed howled keened already in the deepest grief and the heights of rage. All heard his cries, but his words He spoke It has not been reported what he said then, to his sons or his law-daughter or the Valar to anyone else.

"…Another difficult paragraph here?"

"Everyone knows he was — very, very affected. I don't want to go on about it unnecessarily, but it was significant… I'm not sure I should use that exact wording, either, because I'm not certain it was never reported. I haven't seen any record of it and no one would report it to me. There were arguments among my uncles over whether he had meant whatever it is that he said, but no one ever told me what that was."

…Ominous.

What is known is that when the Noldor were regrouping in Tirion, Maltraen was overcome with horror: of Morgoth, of the Darkness, and of Fëanor. She could not bring herself to go nearer to any of them.

Celebrimbor's eyes were haunted. "What I was most struck by even then was that my father did not try to argue with or reproach her. I think he knew that if something had happened sufficient to rattle her faith, there would be no mending it with words. Her brothers tried. It went badly."

"These would be the same brothers who your father made insensitive remarks about later?"

"Oh yes."

Maltraen proposed that Heledhwen should remain with her. Curufin might have agreed, save that he felt that darkened, near-abandoned Tirion under the dubious protection of the Valar was surely no safer than the heart of the Noldorin host.

"She didn't ask about you?" Narvi asked. "I suppose being older, and a man…"

"I think she would have wanted me to stay if I had been as young as my sister. As it is… I do not believe anyone ever questioned whether I would go, not even I."

So Curufin brought both his children as the host marched, and after the fighting died down they were called forward to ride through the charnel-house made of Alqualondë's piers to the bloodied swan-ships. Celebrimbor bade Heledhwen close her eyes, but she saw enough to be frightened.

"This leaves out the part where my uncles Amras and Amrod continued to treat me like a child, so I sat with Heledhwen outside the city the whole night instead of finding out whether I had it in me to slay kin."

Narvi didn't think there was anything to say to that, so he patted Celebrimbor's hand and read on.

Maltraen's brothers Maltaparmo and Maltayondo were slain by the defenders of Alqualondë, and their father Maltweg was very wroth.

"The brothers, I see."

"Maltatan was angry about them dying, angry that neither they nor Atya had gotten Amil to leave Tirion, and very angry that Atya said they were asses who'd had one job and botched it."

"What did they do?"

"I never had the nerve to ask."