#let galadriel be a grandmother

[hollowwhisperings]

Justice For Celebrian!

Celebrian is a Character of Absence in Tolkien's Legendarium: we never truly meet her and yet her absence lingers throughout the text, affecting most every major actor of the Third Age (the eldar most of all).

How-so it this? Through this: the devastating grief, unspoken yet doubtless, of those who knew & loved her.

For Celebrian was this: to Celeborn & Galadriel, their daughter and only child; to Elrond, the Great Love of his life; to Elladan & Elrohir, a mother whom they failed to quickly rescue; to Arwen Undomiel, the mother whom she was never to meet again for choosing the Path of Man.

Celebrian was the Lady of Imladris, the princess in all but name to Lothlorien. She was kin to two Ringbearers and yet neither Ring could save her. We know only that she was gentle and beloved, by some of the most crucial players in the events of the Second & Third Ages of Middle-Earth.

Why Celebrian is Absent

Celebrian's status as one "beloved" by the eldar creates a formidable motive in their hatred of The Shadow. For the means by which Celebrian was "absented" from Middle-Earth was entirely of Its Reckoning: in the 2509th Year of the Third Age, Celebrian was "waylaid by orcs". She was "captured and tormented" until she was, at last, found and rescued by her twin sons.

This Fate is one of Horrific Implication, one that Tolkien's Appendix B avoids elaborating upon (beyond her "receiving a poisoned wound").

Fans have Imagination Enough to consider what Hurts could be beyond even Lord Elrond's means to Heal, beyond any of Galadriel's many powers, beyond the careful comforts found in Imladris & Lothlorien. Whatever befell Celebrian by the creations of Sauron, it left her so wounded that Sailing West (& thus Away from most everyone she had ever known) was her only Hope for recovery.

"Justice" within the Legendarium

The Fate of Celebrian was yet one blow more in a long list of Personal Grievances borne by her Kin against Sauron. The vigilance and ample assistance of Celebrian's Kin during the War of The Ring was undoubtedly inspired, in no small part by her Fate & subsequent Departure.

While Elrond & Galadriel would doubtlessly have aided The Fellowship without this most recent grievance to drive them, the otherwise reclusive eldar of Imladris & Lothlorien would certainly have found Celebrian's Fate "inspiring" enough to take arms once more, "postponing" (or hastening) their Leave of Middle-Earth to seek Justice for their Lost Lady.

"Injustices" in Adapted Works

The Injustices that adapted Tolkien works have done unto Celebrian are many: they have erased her very existence (TROP); they have denied her her Epic & Untold Love Story with her Husband (TROP, again); they have Lessened the person she chose to love by making him a Minor Antagonist (both of PJ's film trilogies); they have stolen the kinship between other characters that they share for her existence (PJ's trilogies imply her existence but fail to utilize its possibilities, many of them comical: Elrond is Galadriel's Son-in-Law; Gimli's Championship of "Grandma Galadriel"; Arwen's Looks being inherited not from Celebrian but from Elrond; etc).

The effects the Live-Action Adaptions have had on the Modern Tolkien Fandom are also Significant: Hugo Weaving's portrayal of Elrond is the most commonly known, despite its OOC-ness; the relationships between Celebrian's Family are unrealised or dismissed; the "Last Homely House", a title probably earned by Elrond & Celebrian both, is considered falsely named; the Many Incentives for Galadriel to Hate Sauron & to have ALWAYS Hated Sauron are... forgotten to enable a "will-they won't-they" romance(???).

To erase Celebrian is to remove from the Second Age one of its silliest love stories: she & Elrond were silently pining for each other for almost 2000 years! This surely amused her mother, who had become afflicted with Sea-Longing some few years prior, & caused Conflict at the Court of King Gil-Galad (for, by wedding Celebrian, Elrond's Claims for High Kingship of the Eldar would become even stronger). The politics are, perhaps, the primary purpose of the would-be couple's long silence: audiences do not know as the potential of their love story has had little attention dedicated to it.

Injustice to Celebrian exists also in the mischaracterization of Elrond: what impression must an audience have, afterall, of the one to love & be beloved by someone so antagonistic to those most in need of "The Last Homely House"? The hostility, the begrudging "hospitality" exhibited by the Elrond of PJ's film trilogies tarnishes not only Elrond but the Legacy of Celebrian as that House's Lost Lady.

(It also creates some varyingly minor/major Plot Holes, such as Elrond's ability to host a Council of the "Free Peoples" in the first place. If his hospitality is so poorly to non-elves, why on Arda would he so frequently be sought for counsel? Furthermore, the Elrond of the Third Age has made himself a Healer: how many elves of this Age would ever need his skill?)

More, varyingly serious charges of "injustice" to Celebrian are sure to follow: my discontent began in the rendering of her husband into a petty antagonist; it has been reignited upon my learning of Amazon's choices in its adapting of the Second Age. Mostly, however, my rallying cry is made in jest: "failures" of adaptions to make Elrond sufficiently pretty for his wife; the lack of "Celebrian/Elrond" content in tumblr feeds; melodrama over how many elven names start with "Celeb".

[shirefantasies]

Heyo, saw ur requests were open and wanted to send smthn in!!

Was hoping u could do LOTR characters x crush reader who’s generally pretty outgoing and chill? Maybe gives a lot of casual compliments, kind of jokingly flirting and makes a lot of horny™️ jokes. Still like, more serious when need be but tried to be lighthearted

Also if u want more specific characters then just Legolas, Merry and Pippin would work :))

LoTR Characters Reacting to Their Flirty Jokester Crush

(Old request! Requests still temporarily closed)

Doesn’t say much, but they have a lot of thoughts: Aragorn, Frodo, Arwen, Elrond

(Character).exe has stopped working: Sam, Faramir, Eowyn

Gives it right back: Legolas, Boromir, Gimli, Pippin, Galadriel

“Cut that out” (secretly enjoys it): Merry, Eomer, Haldir

Aragorn mostly just grins or shakes his head in amused exasperation at you. Especially if you choose to make jokes at people who are particularly stoic, like Haldir or Eomer. He'll do the same if you make those jokes directly to him, simply grin down at his pipe or the sword he is cleaning and chuckle. On the inside, though? A part of him wants to tackle you then and there, but of course that is simply your manner... right? Frodo always gives a charming little look of surprise before glancing away. If you are close enough, you might see the flush that rises to his fair cheeks. He bursts into a smile and a faint chuckling breath and if he is not the recipient he glances toward your target, especially if your joke is particularly scandalous. His head is rushing with questions: do you mean it? Are you hiding something beneath your jokes? Why do you make them more often to him? Arwen always offers you a wide grin, sometimes even a playful swat to your shoulder or elbow if you are in her father or grandmother's presence. Occasionally she may even ask what they are to do with you, but when she is alone, the only company her own, she cannot stop the rush of thoughts about your words. Do you really think so, then? Perhaps she should offer you some encouragement at your next meeting... Lord Elrond has seen much in this world, too much to be shocked though he can shake his head at your marked lack of decorum. A thrill still runs down his spine, though, at the way you gently touch him, your whispers and devilish grins, and a tentative smile rises to his lips even as he shakes his head at you. Try as he might, Elrond simply cannot shake off the thoughts that rise to his head, the images your words conjure. He fears that soon he will simply give in entirely, and such a thought does little to quell the anticipatory shivers.

The parting of Sam's lips, the widening of his lovely green eyes, even the subtlest flex and release of his nervous hands, all make your manner beyond worthwhile. It only makes you smile wider how surprised he is, especially when he tells you not to tease so and you ask him who's teasing? There's no mistaking the way his cheeks redden at that! The brief rise of Faramir's eyebrows is all his expression betrays as it remains neutral, pondering, peering at you with interest as if he is waiting for you to continue or letting you try again. Whether that spurs further comment by you or lets you simply escape and breeze away with a mischievous smile, you can decide, but know that the moment you look away Faramir's facae completely collapses, your effect irresistible. No one has made comments so directly to Eowyn before you, your words freezing her in a smile and sending her beautiful blue eyes searching yours as she chews her lip half pensively, half at the rise of other thoughts. She is not your sole recipient and yet she feels desired by you. What a delicious thought. Could you mean it?

Legolas skips not a single beat before the perfect retort falls from his rising lips. You return with another comment and he steps closer with yet another reply. The others, especially Aragorn, are shaking their heads at you, Merry and Pippin grinning widely and elbowing each other at your antics. Boromir grins at your words, trying his best to fluster you with comments equally scandalous right back. The smile rarely falls from his face in your presence and he takes to teasing you, even playfully taking and hiding your things to get your attention. Holding them up high hoping you'll stand against him to reach for them. Sometimes he simply calls out your jokes as soon as you've made them, telling you you clearly have a lot on your mind or even outright asking why you are thinking so. Gimli bursts out into devilish, triumphant laughter at your jokes and always seems to have something to add. He’ll tell you you’re absolutely filthy, and the wild look in his eyes and wide upward quirk or his lips assure you this is a compliment. Whenever he catches that look of mischief in your eyes, he nods and provides you with ample encouragement no matter the target. But especially if it is mischief directed toward Legolas or Aragorn or one of your many scandalous compliments directed his way. Puffing out his chest, he takes it with relish. Rather than use his words, Pippin returns your jokes with acts of his own, always being the first to laugh and pull you into games, dances, and pranks with Merry. He replies with a lot of ‘oh yes?’ and small encouragements, especially to your saucier quips. In addition, he wants to be the sole recipient so he will try little things to get your attention and always be around you. Challenge is presented by none other than the Lady Galadriel, who does far more than smile or dismissively shake her head at your comments. Rather she will dare you to put your proverbial money where your mouth is. “Oh, would you really?” “Why do you not demonstrate, then?” Most often you hear these words inside your own mind, looking over to see her giving you what outwardly looks like a friendly smile, but you catch a different glint in her eyes.

“If you keep that up, you’ll disturb his stance.” Merry appears to be chastising you, but you can see by his smile and the sparkle of his gaze upon you that that is far from the truth. Rather he challenges you to see if you truly can disturb Pippin and Boromir’s training. He asks you what you think you’re doing when you play footsie with him by the fire or whisper puns that would make a grown hobbit blush when opportunity avails, but you notice how his smile never falters. You never thought you would see Eomer, marshal of the Riddermark, flustered and lost for words, that stoic exterior finally cracking, but your first pun that such words as you heard were usually spoken in bed have him speechless for a moment. Finally he speaks, telling you this is no time for jokes, but you catch the faintest smile playing into his lips from the shadows of his helmet as he turns away. In fact, the next time you nudge him and fidget at his side, he simply butts you with his shoulder back. Similarly, Haldir also bids you hold your tongue, but the raise of a single blonde brow he gives you is anything but quelling. In fact, all it speaks to you is intrigue. You feel him stiffen when you teasingly grab his hands and you see his eyes fixate firmly upon your lips when you make a suggestive comment. He starts sitting closer to you, legs resting warmly adjacent to your own thighs, and tentatively returning your gestures like nudges. Absolutely still shuts down ‘in bed’ remarks in front of the others, though. Decorum and all.

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[tanoraqui]

queenship under siege and there's a WHAT in this mountain?! (LotR)

[re: badly described WIPs fics I almost certainly will never actually write - in the lead with 17.5% of the vote as of midnight 3/3/24]

I know I’ve said this before, because I do love it so, but:

The only reason, the ONLY reason, I would ever want the Arkenstone to be a Silmaril is this: the day after Aragorn leaves Rivendell with the Fellowship, Elrond summons Arwen to his study and bids her to go to Erebor.

"What?" she demands. "Surely I am needed here, or out in the wilds, marshaling the Rangers - "

"Your brothers will manage that, after they escort you," her father insists. "You must go to Erebor, and ask Dain to let you open Thorin's tomb, that you may look upon the Arkenstone. Gloin will help you - I spoke with him ere he left. Don't let anyone else know your purpose - as far as the world is concerned, I am sending my only daughter to a safe stronghold until Mordor is defeated."

"Are you not?" she cries. But he will explain no more than, "I think the jewel may be important to our oncoming war, but I wish you to assess it unbiased" - and he gives her two letters to read only once she's made her own judgement of the jewel.

So Arwen goes. The Misty Mountains are crawling with orcs, but in cloaks woven by their grandmother, she and her brothers slip through with only a few close calls. Elrohir and Elladan don't know why she's going even a little, save that their father bade it and (he said) their grandmother supported it. The problem with having Elrond for a father and Galadriel for a grandmother is that, while technically they may each be wrong at times (allegedly), in agreement they never are.

It's nice to have what may be one last journey with her brothers, at least. All three of them know that Elladan and Elrohir will soon be in battle alongside their cousins the Dúnedain, and for all Erebor's strength, it will soon be under attack. Rivendell might soon be under attack. Lothlórien might soon be under attack.

The twins leave almost as soon as the three of them arrive; they have other work to do. Dain barely protests letting Arwen mildly exhume his cousin in order to assess the famous jewel - he doesn't quite like letting an elf(ish person) near the Heart of the Mountain, but he is very worried about the black-armored army lurking across the River Carnen, and respects the wisdom of Elrond and his immediate kin.

Arwen sees the Arkenstone sitting calmly in the hands of of the fallen king, and she sees it clutched in the burning hand of a no-longer-king, fallen free from a twisted iron crown, stolen over a king's bloody body, hallowed by a Queen, forged in a fire like the world never saw again... It glows softly; its light matches that of the small crystal that hangs around her neck now, one of a set of three.

[Here me out: Galadriel made three: one for Celebrian and Elrond as a wedding gift, jointly from herself and Eärendil; one for thw twins upon their birth, and one for Arwen upon hers. Celebrian left hers behind when she Sailed; Galadriel gives it to Frodo.]

The letters are from Elrond and Galadriel, respectively. They say much the same thing:

I'm so sorry to spring this on you, and to make you a guardian of this secret

If the Ringbearer's quest fails and the Enemy regains his full power, please take the jewel (as freely giving by the dwarves if at all possible) and use it however you can to save everyone and everything that you can. (Elrond's says, "My parents will help as much as they can. Do not hesitate to ask for their or any other aid." Galadriel's says, "If you seek Undying Shores with mortals in tow, for succor or for more active aid, hold the Jewel high and beseech first Ulmo and his spirits, and then every single kin-relation you have, no matter the connection. Once you rouse the general populace, then approach the Valar - though don't appear to delay.)

Galadriel's says, "Círdan knows to potentially expect you." Elrond wrote, "If you see your mother before I do", stopped there and blotted it out.

Neither of them needs to say, We will hold the line, to buy you as much time as we can. Both say "I love you", "I'm sorry", and variations on, "I know you can do this."

Arwen made the Choice of Elros several decades ago: to live among Men as a Man, to take up queenship of a people at the start of a new Age of the World and rule until most of those she loved most had passed and it was time to follow as a Man. Now she faces the Choice of Elwing: to leave most of those she loved the most for dead and flee with Silmaril in hand and only the hope of the impossible to save a doomed continent.

(Or, if she was optimistic, the Choice of Lúthien: to face down the Lord of Death and demand back one single most beloved [for Aragorn could not live while Sauron triumphed], and steal him away for many peaceful decades ere doom fell entirely, their own best efforts done. But Lúthien had been, in her glorious way, very selfish, and Arwen was not.)

The reason I haven't started writing this fic and probably never will is that I have a perfect sense of what I believe kids call the vibes - the mood, the tone, themes, the visual and emotional aesthetic - and none of actual, like, events of the story.

It's about Arwen's final trial of leadership and diplomacy, before she (hopefully) takes up a throne of Gondor, being living with Dwarves for three months under threat and then fact of war. Helping in the infirmary. Participating in strategy discussions, because war isn't her area of expertise but she has participated a few times, in her nearly 3,000 years of life. Mediating as a neutral party on inevitable conflicts between Dwarves the Men, especially in the last week and a half when they're under high stress while besieged together with two kings dead in the field.

Carrying a torch in the deep corridors of the Mountain because she's Mannish enough not to see naturally in the dark. Standing extra watches because she's Elvish enough to see well in starlight, especially if the Star in question is her grandfather; and getting scouting reports from the local thrushes, because they're talkative and Melian's heirs have always had a knack for the speech of birds.

Busying herself with sewing a banner for Aragorn, with jewel-stars and a crown of mithril and gold - for her elders have appointed her as their last hope, and she shall hold it for them and for all the people she can save if in the end she must; but her Estel fights in the field. The night the armies of Mordor cross the river to strike at Dale, she stands on the summit of the Lonely Mountain and calls a friend among the Eagles, who takes the finished banner in her talons and bears it south to where Arwen's brothers and cousins ride to Aragorn's side.

(She shares dreams with him sometimes - but she must keep secret a thought that beats in her like a heartbeat, and he must devote all his thought to the quest and the war. So they don't speak much.)

It's about the crushing weight of history and legacy and the very practical matters of running a kingdom in duress. It's about multicultural exchange. It's about love and hope and a hundred different OCs, most of whom will never be recorded in history books even if they die heroically or steal siege-stores to sell on the black market, or simply live and thus deserve to do so. It's about hard work and mortality.

It's about how 77 years after the Battle of Five Armies, Dain II Ironfoot swings his axe until he falls defending the body of Brand King of Dale, son of Baird son of Bard the Dragonslayer, and their people all take refuge in the Mountain together; and Arwen tends the wounded with the Songs she learned from her father and the neat stitches her mother taught her for first cloth, then skin; and she walks among the frightened people - none of them remotely her people; Dwarves and entirely common Men, mostly descended from easterners migrating slowly west - and knows that if these are all she can save, she will gladly die or live as she must in order to do so; and the people hearken a little to see her pass by with starlight in her eyes and on her breast.

And then - after an eternity of painful anticipation, after what feels like no time at all - the Shadow passes, and the wait and tension abruptly lift.

They very much do still have to go defeat that army before the gates, though.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Years Of Imitating Mastery, Have Only Made Me A Better Thief

Summary: There was a look in his eyes, a sorrowful longing that he was more familiar with than he would like to be. He didn’t look like Nimloth, not really. Or Elrond and Celeborn angst for Day 3: Extended Family @tolkienfamilyweek

Celeborn had avoided him thus far; nothing obvious or malicious, he was always perfectly civil, but over time it was hard to ignore that when they brushed past each other their eyes never met, that he always seemed to filter out of a room when the others present grew too thin to act as buffers between them, that he didn’t seem fully at ease when Elrond’s gaze rested on him on the rare occasions they did exchange pleasantries.

It didn’t bother him. It didn’t. He had dealt with far worse rejection than the polite avoidance of some distant relative he’d never known. It wasn’t as if Celeborn seemed to distrust him, he had never seemed wary when Elrond was to lead beside him in battle (which was more than he could say for certain Sindar). Occasionally disapproving to be sure but that could easily fall into the category of people who questioned the ethics of letting someone his age fight at all, which he did not mind on principle considering those people were probably right.

On one occasion he could have sworn he saw him flinch momentarily at the eight pointed star on the hilt of his sword when Elrond had been sharpening it over his knee; he had a right to that of course, they all did. It was no one’s fault, not really, it just was.

He rifled through his journal, leather dyed forest green with thick swathes of creamy paper, different shades, textures and scents betraying the way he’d been clipping things into it once the original piece had run out some 30 years previously. He’d have started using a new one, he could certainly afford to, but this had been the first thing he’d been given for no ostensible reason other than that he may like it (he’d gone with Maglor to gather some supplies and he’d assumed it was a ledger for official matters yet he’d come home to find it resting on his pillow. It had been seven silver coins, he remembered that still). He liked to have some reason to carry it around with him so he could remind himself that for reasons beyond his understanding he had been loved by those who were not meant to be capable of it.

At present he was searching for a particular section, the notes he had accumulated over a few particular Avari dialects, as if the few minutes before he needed to be the picture of composure and a fountain of diplomatic knowledge by the High King’s side would give him anymore conversational skill in some of the only languages he had never heard spoken. Still he could not take his page of verb conjugations into the banquet so best try while he could.

‘I hope I’m not interrupting?’ Elrond stifled a sigh and shut the journal on his desk, resigned to his fate of not understanding everything said in discussions for the first time since he came into Gil Galad’s service.

He turned to meet the gaze of his visitor ‘Not at all, was there something you needed Lord Celeborn?’

Rather than an answer he got another question, he should have been used to it after living with elves so long but it still grated at his edainic sensibilities. ‘Are you content in Lindon?’

Well what was he to make of that? Could it be political somehow, Celeborn and Galadriel had seemed pleased enough with Gil Galad’s position but who could begin to parse the web of complexities of their manoeuvrings? ‘Very, my lord. Gil Galad has been exceedingly welcoming and there is no one more worthy of my loyalty.’ Perhaps a little on the defensive side but not nearly as confrontational as he had the slight reputation for being at times.

He did not seem to take offence, smiling, ever so slightly unsure, and pausing before speaking again in a tone almost too gentle to be heard, ‘I’m glad to hear it. You remind me greatly of your grandmother, you know.’

There was a look in his eyes, a sorrowful longing that he was more familiar with than he would like to be. He didn’t look like Nimloth, not really. He’d seen paintings of her, talked to others who had met her, never had any similarity been apparent or commented on. Everyone always said the same thing, Luthien dominated leaving only the barest trace of anything else to be found by those who saw only what they wished to see. Elrond decided to be kind and turned to compose himself by fixing the braids bound above his head, hair black as a void, thick and wavy, as far as you could get from the smooth curtain of silver depicted on the statues of Celeborn’s long lost cousin.

He was interrupted out of his musings by Celeborn hesitantly moving forward to stand in front of him. ‘I- thought that you might like to have this. I guessed that you might not have many things from Doriath.’ In his outstretched hand was a hair clasp, beautiful in its elegance, emerald green coloured glass shaping interlocking leaves and blossoms.

He spoke, only confirming what Elrond already knew, ‘It was her’s.’ This was all he had of her and he was giving it away to someone he barely knew, someone who had never met the elleth he was clearly mourning deeply.

‘Really, lord Celeborn, I cannot accept-’

He placed it into his hand and gently closed Elrond’s fingers around it as if they were delicate, more delicate than the glass itself, liable to be snapped if handled too roughly. Celeborn had seen him rip an orc’s arm out of it’s socket once. He got the feeling that he had tried to forget that, it would complicate matters, make it harder to pretend he was that pale silver haired girl laughing among the trees and muddying her dresses by playing in the riverbanks trying to drag him along with her with childish pleading. Elrond wished once again that images and snatches did not cross from others to him so naturally. Without the confirmation he could have pretended as well.

‘Please. It is yours by right.’ They stood there for a moment, both uncertain but Celeborn hiding it a great deal better.

‘Would you like me to show you how to use it?’ Celeborn smiled at him. It was a nice smile, fond and soft, one you would give a favoured nephew of about ten, not an estranged cousin raised by your worst enemies and trained in all manner of brutal warfare. One he might have given an Elrond raised in the Havens of Sirion, a sweet and naive youth who had never come into being. Is that who Celeborn was choosing to see before him? The perfect Sindarin prince who had died many times since the siege of Sirion, who had perhaps never existed in the first place but who could know now?

Elrond nodded slowly and sank down in front of his mirror obediently; Celeborn gently pulled out the gold pins holding his hair in tight braids about his head and found the brush to slowly smooth out the kinks. Did he breathe easier when the Noldorin patterns were no longer visible or was it just Elrond’s imagination prescribing motives to kindness because that at least was familiar to him. He thought he could feel some satisfaction as the last one unwound; the mark of his ‘captors’ gone from an ellyn Celeborn wished to see as one of his own people.

He found himself wishing for one terrible moment that he could be who Celeborn so clearly wanted, that the complexities could be so easily brushed away with fond and comforting strokes. That maybe if he was Celeborn would stay for a few moments longer; he was gathering his hair in his hands and plaiting pieces of it back from his face patiently, genuinely trying to show him how so he could replicate it. He remembered hearing somewhere that Celeborn and Galadriel had a young daughter and thought fancifully if this was how he was with her. He’d had many families already and it seemed unfair to ache for another when all that he touched burned away in his palm. He wanted nonetheless.

It had been long since he’d felt someone smoothing his hair so gently and the warmth of the gesture made him ache and want to claw desperately and seize at this warmth that seemed so close to genuine affection until he looked up at Celeborn’s face and something in his eyes made the hopeful smile growing on his face falter. He had that far off gaze again, the melancholy one he’d known earlier that told him he was not truly here. He was in Doriath or in Sirion, with Nimloth, Luthien, Elwing or perhaps with a son that belonged to Elrond’s mother and no other.

As a solitary tear slipped past Celeborn’s cheek and was quickly brushed away he decided with a growing weariness that Celeborn needed this more than he did. Elrond was kind above all, a conscious decision for kindness’s sake and a selfish, childish impulse that still believed that if he was more obliging, more helpful, more sweet, more loveable they would stop leaving. One day. When Celeborn was visiting he wore his hair like he’d shown him and dressed in flowing silver, grey and white, certain brooches, necklaces, circlets and weapons left pointedly in his chambers.

He spoke Sindarin perfectly of course, when he sung in it there was no trace of who had taught him to do so. Maglor Feanorian was, rather ironically, entirely forgotten when he sang, no one questioned where he might have learned to manipulate the nature and possibly, some murmured, people around him despite how obvious it should have been that there was one particular bard infamous for using those exact techniques. After all with his ebony waves down to his knees, bright eyes and distinct otherness that could only be Maiarin why should his skill at Song be worth commenting on?

He still smiled brightly when Celeborn kissed his forehead in greeting or complimented and offered advice (generally very good when not affiliated with the Kazhad in any way) on his diplomatic endeavours. The snatches of that girl were never far from Celeborn’s mind when Elrond smiled. Was this all he was, a poor substitute for a thousand different people, a corrupted reflection from a mirror of other people’s regrets? Was it even right to resent it when as Celeborn’s hands had started running through his hair for one moment he’d closed his eyes and wished them to be those of a kinslayer? Even as the warmth he craved lingered in his chest it was replaced with a gnawing emptiness, even greater than before. But Elrond was kind so he smiled as if nothing was amiss.

[istaricelebelasse]

Arwen is less sure of herself. Less sure of her place in the world, more willing to doubt.

She listens to her family; to her father and brothers, to the one she would marry. They tell her to sail, to leave the shores of the only home she has ever known, to return to the mother she has not seen in centuries.

(Her grandmother says nothing. Galadriel cannot see the path her only granddaughter will take, but she is selfish enough to hope that they will not be forever parted.)

And if everyone is saying one thing is it difficult not to listen.

Difficult not to agree.

She sets a single foot into the boat and something tears inside her. Something solidifies just as something breaks.

She freezes, doubt taking hold. For a moment she thinks about turning back, about returning to her home and waiting for news of her love.

But those who travel with her are prepared. They distract her, bring her into the ship, and do not let her doubt.

It is only when they pass the Isle of Himling, when the last of the shore fades and Arwen knows that she is sailing over the once realms of her kin that the doubt truly takes force. That she finally changes her mind.

It is too late.

Sand as smooth as pearl and scattered with jewels awaits her. As beautiful and as final as her grandmother’s songs said.

A crowd waits for her on the docks. Family she has never met, family who were only legends and bedtime tales to her and her brothers.

(How many times had they played at being Finrod and the wolf? How many times had they played War of Wrath and fought over the roles of their grandparents?)

She greets her mother first. She tries not to resent just how relieved her mother is to see her.

She knows that Celebrian had feared that Sailing would mean never seeing any of her children again.

More family gather around her and it takes every single one of her grandfather’s lessons not to spit and snarl when they try to say how glad they are to see the Choice she made.

(Galadriel never taught her how to hide. She showed her how to slip a blade between ribs with a smile, how to weave enchantment and horror and hold herself as a Queen.)

And then Arwen sees her great grandfather, a mortal in a land of immortals, and something that was broken inside her starts to heal.

Tuor was allowed to sail, for love of an elf-maid, for deeds of valour, as a favour to the Valar.

And if Tuor was allowed to sail, what is to keep her Aragorn from sailing?

Arwen takes her grandmother’s lessons and begins to plot.

(For it was not only the Noldor tales which she had played as a child.)

[buffyfan145]

@stanboromir made a post about how the ROP hair and makeup department took inspiration for Galadriel's S2 crown braids directly from Tolkien. He said that as a young woman, Gal had an "amazon disposition" and would bound her hair up in braids when competing against other athletes. As so many of us ROP fans have pointed out to the shitty 'purists,' Tolkien always described Gal as a fierce warrior princess. I mean, her (misogynistic) mother-name was "Nerwen ("Man-Maiden")! We also know from the Professor that she excelled in magic, blacksmithing, and more traditionally feminine crafts like weaving. She even rivaled Feanor, and had the same stubborn pride. Basically, these haters wanting to reduce Gal to some perfect fairy godmother is so the opposite of Tolkien canon. If anything, I see her wise and gentle sorceress demeanor in LOTR as something she adopted to deal with all her heartbreak and trauma after centuries of losing almost everyone and everything she loved (including Sauron). She briefly broke her Lady of Light mask when Frodo offered her the One Ring. She had been repressing so much of herself for so long, and he gave her a small opportunity to let a bit show.

I saw that over on Twitter too and yes it does fit exactly what Tolkien wrote about her younger self. I've mentioned this before but again people have to realize the show's version of Galadriel would compare to a women in their 20s or 30s. The LOTR books/movies version I call Grandma Galadriel as that's what she is. If she was a human she's likely be in her 60s, 70s, or even 80s. My own grandmothers were very different people when they were young, just like all of us will be when we reach our senior years. People change, for better or worse, but we all normally are not how we were when we were younger.

[malkaleh]

Anyway I was browsing @fandom-chameleon23 blog and more Gold Cages happened (basically Sauron is obsessed/possessive/‘loves’ over Celebrimbor, Elrond, Galadriel and Celeborn (also Finrod but))

He has never thought he deserved to heal, to be in such peace that Elrond has built. Not when he had let Sauron in, not when it was because they had almost saved him that Galadriel and Elrond had ended in captivity too.

It takes an age and more before he feels he could craft again.

It is in making toys for the newborn twins that Celebrimbor begins, slowly to find joy in creation - he makes small birds and stars strung with pearls bought by seabirds from no shore on Middle Earth to hang above their cradles, little figures carved from wood and stone in ways he remembers his grandmother teaching him in long ago days of peace.

And there is joy in it, when the nightmares and the whispers in his mind drive him awake at night to sit and work upon a new beautiful thing for these two new lives.

His hands, they ache. They will always ache - sometimes it is too heavy to bear, how much they ache - Sauron had carved into them gently, almost reverently - shallow cuts, but ones meant to scar - a reminder of possession. And yet, yet I am not, Celebrimbor repeats to himself - I am not a jewel for you to grasp and keep.

They all have things that still shake them. Elrond, who has to leave for a moment when someone unknowing sings of caged birds, of a nightingale with a pretty chain. Galadriel, who cannot wear a crown. Celeborn, who does not speak of any of it. And he himself, who sometimes must remember what is real - that he is here, not there. There are times he does not know, that he is back there, in the ruins of his city, in those rooms in Mordor. With hands of one he had thought he loved around him, so gently, so sincerely and yet, yet Sauron had chained, had caged him as he ripped out the souls of those he loved. Of all he loved and called it healing.

-

Celeborn dreams he is in Doriath, by one of the forest pools in high summer. It is green and flowering and perfectly cool and he can scrub the filth from himself. Can let it fall away through the water plants, into the keeping of the earth.

“My sweet silver prince, be still.”

And then he is back again, in those rooms. That place, as Sauron gently washes him, kissing the scars that he had made.

@nocompromise-noregrets

[oflorien]

IF THEY HAD A KID... accepting elrond & celebrían going for number 4 ft. @elr0nds

NAME:   ELWING  ;  star-  spray.  also  known  as  ELWING  THE  YOUNGER GENDER:  cis  female GENERAL  APPEARANCE:  much  can  be  said  about  the  beauty  of  elwing;  named  for  her  paternal  grandmother,  there  is  no  doubt  about  her  origins  from  the  line  of  lúthien.  elwing  is  tall,  and  statuesque  in  frame  but  once  a  willowy  child.  her  hair  is  dark,  worn  long  and  oft  plaited  to  keep  from  her  face.  her  father's  eyes  surrounded  by  a  ring  of  gold.  in  fact  it,  it  was  well  known  to  kin  and  those  beyond,  that  elwing  resembled  her  father  so  much  in  certain  stages  of  youth  that  even  her  grandmother,  the  lady  galadriel  called  her  elrond  on  more  than  one  occasion.  a  halo  of  gold  enshrouds  her,  a  floral  crown  often  atop  her  head,  even  when  sparring. PERSONALITY:  wild  child.  made  of  stubborn,  tenacious  spirit.  where  her  siblings  before  gave  their  parents  a  time  of  chaos,  she  exceeded  this.  active,  joyful,  well-meaning  and  STRONG-WILLED.  her  sense  of  justice  rivals  the  rule  of  the  most  empathetic  souls  when  paired  with  such  fire.  she  is  wise  beyond  her  years  and  much  too  intelligent  for  her  own  good.  there  is  a  genuine  sweetness  to  her  aura,  adventurous  and  kind  enough  to  forgive  her  more  boisterous  qualities  that  have  caused  her  father  a  great  deal  of  headaches.  she  mellows  slightly  upon  maturity,  a  two-sided  coin  with  the  capacity  for  great  stoicism  and  endurance  of  heart  but  she  has  always  been  restless.  dry  of  wit,  loyal,  blunt  but  a  loving  being  dedicated  to  her  family,  brave…fearless  beyond  reason. SPECIAL  TALENTS:  she  is,  a  fighter  with  the  tenacity  of  a  lover.  elwing  is  a  quicker  and  far  more  agile  fighter  than  her  elder  brothers.  her  stature  gives  an  advantage  to  this  and  she  never  lets  them  forget  the  places  where  she  rivals  them.  a  skilled  and  highly  efficient  archer,  hunter,  tracker,  the  wilds  have  always  been  her  more  natural  habitat  for  immersion.  beyond  that,  her  wisdom  has  been  bestowed  by  the  valar.  as  though  she  possesses  an  otherworldly  sage  perspective,  many  elves  far  beyond  her  age  are  often  taken  aback  by  this.  WHO  THEY  LIKE  BETTER:  she  loves  both  her  parents  in  equal  measure.  though,  she  and  her  father  have  many  similar  academic  interests  but  with  this  comes  a  host  of  moments  where  they  butt  heads.  she  also  knows  that  for  the  most  part,  her  grandfather,  celeborn  will  always  sneak  her  sweets  if  her  parents  say  no  and  that  her  grandmother,  galadriel  will  always  gift  her  with  more  wisdom  and  stories  about  both  her  parents  to  use  against  them.  WHO  THEY  TAKE  AFTER  MORE:  she  is  physically  her  father,  without  question.  mannerisms,  cadence  of  speech down to the way he walks.  PERSONAL  HEADCANON:  from  the  hilt  of  her  sword,  dagger,  bow  and  down  to  the  stitching  in  her  favoured  cloak,  you  will  always  find  a  white  bird  in  honour  of  her  paternal  grandmother  and  namesake.  FACE  CLAIM:  millie  brady

[arafinweanappreciation]

Oh no, you just summoned many Orodreth fans with your wonderful post. That's me lmaoo. Can we also get a baby Orodreth interactions with his family/relatives? I'm thirsty for that shit.

there are many worse things that could be summoned lol. demons, the ghost of feanor, discourse blogs... anyway

like most kids, orodreth likes to be Included in Grown-Up Activities. most of the time this is adorable and harmless and just results in him sitting next to finrod in the library with a picture book, attempting to help turgon with city planning with his building blocks, or "assisting" various members of the household staff (who do genuinely find him helpful sometimes). other times it is less harmless and results in a pack of panicking adults chasing him across the beach because he has decided to join his grandmother on a swim well beyond the shallows

he's the only child in the family at that time (other than celebrimbor, who he doesn't meet until much later), so he gets kinda bored. this occasionally results in him terrorizing the pets. and mousers. and the hunting dogs. edalote is at her wits' end. angrod mostly thinks it's funny.

he inherited his mom's eyes, which in any other family would be barely anything to comment on. problem being that edalote has these piercing purplish-silver eyes and it's very disconcerting. galadriel will be reading to him and them look up and find him staring into her soul.

he LOVES oranges and there are a few orchards right around aqualonde, so most seasons angrod and edalote will take him down there to pick some. angrod in particular likes to hold him up to let him help.

his other favorite thing is having his hair brushed and/or braided. being raised in a large extended family, he has no problem walking up to the nearest adult and demanding exactly that

aegnor isn't super good with little kids so he has no idea what to do with orodreth before he can hold a conversation or play catch. he has some notion that he wants to be the fun uncle, esp since he and angrod are super close, but what is he supposed to do??? just??? hang out???? is that something toddlers do??? someone please help him

eventually someone mentions that it's good for kids to get tossed around some bc it helps with their development and aegnor is DELIGHTED. this is how he, argon, and fingon end up playing catch with their nephew. as in he is the thing being caught. this is what finally causes angrod to go "wait nO-" for once in his life

orodreth also ends up being the subject of some linguistic experiments by finrod. this is why he can read at an almost prodigiously young age. this is also why he has such a weird vocabulary

Earwen takes him to explore tide pools once and it Does Not End Well. he still hates crabs

He keeps getting all kinds of outdoorsy/jock-ish stuff as gifts (toy hunting bows, tack about the right size for a small child on ponies, riding boots, etc) but he shows very little interest in doing anything outside besides playing pretend and helping finarfin garden

[legitimatesatanspawn]

What if Beren and Luthien were genderbent?

Ooh, that's an interesting question.

Now, forewarning: this is just a bunch of theories and personal thoughts on the matter so don't take this as canon. It is rooted in what we do know of the families involved and a bit in how social structures work in the setting, but in this case it is completely me talking out of hand about this.

Names. This is a big thing to me because I love names and this will help me keep the idea separate from canon. Luthien is Quenyan for "flower-daughter" so let's go with one of the Quenyan suffixes for males… Luthion sounds good if a bit too on the nose. Another option for flower are Lot/Loth from Ninquelótë, Númellótë, and Vingilot. So Lótëmon? Now Beren was named after his maternal grandfather, but since I don't know his grandmother's name we'll go up the tree for his great-grandmother Adanel. I'm guessing his mother Emeldir got naming rights to go with Beren instead of him getting named after Bregor. Admittedly Lotemon and Adanel might not roll off as easily as Luthien and Beren but they work for this post.

Brief Discussion of Upbringing: Beren and Luthien Beren, or Adanel now as this will be easier. While Artanis (or Galadriel as we know her) is the biggest Noldorian female who stands out in my memory with the next one being Nerdanel who was the wife of Feanor who deserves her own loredump post, the laws of succession in Numenor which in turn are basically spread to the civilizations of Man to varying degrees in the known lands of Middle Earth are cribbed off of those of the Noldor. Which is why I'm bringing two Noldor elves up here. Basically titles go paternally to the nearest male descendant although in the case of a female eldest child she still receives family heirlooms as her birthright. (Doesn't make up for it but whatever.) Although I do remember there being a case where there were several older daughters onto whom one of the Numenorian kings tried to pass the title to but their grandmother spooked them like some grammas tend to do, so they refused and the title went to their younger brother. Now here's the fun bit: Beren's mother (much like Luthien's Melian) Emeldir is a BAMF. Her name and her title both basically were "the man-hearted woman". So Emeldir without doubt kicked ass, lived to at least 50 going by the events surrounding Dagor Bragollach (the Battle of Sudden Flame), and I like to think she raised Beren to understand important stuff like consent and a refusal being just that. So while I think that "Adanel" would be treated just as Beren would, she wouldn't get exactly the same equal treatment. But given her mother, her father would likely try anyway. So Beren's life as a woman would be largely unchanged. Luthien, or as she'll be here "Lótëmon", is still the only child of Thingol and Melian. Still half-maia, still likely beautiful and fairer beyond everything. Still probably has a thing for tall, broad shouldered, and golden-brown half-feral people spotted in the forest. Maybe a little more leeway when it comes to things and hopefully not kidnapped (which would mean no Huan) but considering he'll still be Beautiful and how beauty is often coveted in the setting… I suspect that "Lotemon" will also live largely the same life.

Quest and Future Rather than demanding the Silmaril as the brideprice, perhaps it is instead just a proof of strength or resoluteness or something. Again, Thingol would've probably thought Beren/"Adanel" would actually be able to do it but the sheer balls to go through with it and return with that damn bold claim of it being indeed still in hand when they return… The knockoff effects for the future will be different though. Luthien and Beren's story was fairly unusual and set the stage for an elf choosing a mortal, and a mortal pursing something dangerous in the name of love. A man may be viewed as brave in some societies/civilizations by their fellow men while a woman instead deemed foolish for the same actions which is disgusting but there it is. A woman using beauty to bewitch her enemies would be 'sexy' while a man doing the same would be different and perhaps seen as underhanded. Although it would be one of the goodside counterparts to Sauron's wiles and paint the idea that cleverness such as that is not always in service of selfish cruelty. It's possible that instead of singing of Luthien's beauty they'd be singing of "Lotemon" and his cunning. There's also some slightly different implications of the mortal woman dying and waiting for her love who when he joins her has to fight for the right for them to stay together in death or in life. This also means that Thingol taking in Turin would have a few more connotations of replacing his lost son instead of caring for a second child who is different from his daughter. So maybe Turin would be even more eager to run out to fight since he doesn't want to be seen as a pale shadow to "Lotemon".

TLDR Different names, slightly different upbringings, somewhat different after effects, but since the Song is a thing and the Silmarils are still a big big thing with the characters then the story would likely stay largely the same.

[syrupwit]

Let me talk about this a bit. Minor spoilers follow for Vespertine, Murderbot, and the Scholomance series. So recently I have read:

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson, featuring as protagonist Artemisia, a teenage necromancer nun who thinks she's a terrible scary person because (1) she was possessed as a child, (2) she is socially awkward and likely autistic, (3) she's got control of a powerful ghosty artifact that thinks about destruction sometimes and could possibly overpower her. However, she is self-sacrificing to the point of refusing to keep a crust of bread given to her by some refugee children when she hasn't eaten for days, and in the end she finds out that her ghost person is really just scared and posturing when it thinks about destruction and would be much more satisfied with being her friend and reminding her to eat and sleep.

Six of the seven Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells, featuring as protagonist Murderbot, a cyborg bodyguard with free will who thinks it's a terrible scary person because (1) in the past it perpetrated a massacre against its will, (2) it has energy weapons built into its arms, (3) people are scared of murderbots. However, Murderbot's free choices consist mostly of watching TV, solving mysteries, and repeatedly risking its life to protect others.

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik, book one of the Scholomance series, featuring as protagonist Galadriel (El), a teenage sorceress who thinks she's a terrible scary person because (1) her magical affinity is for big destructive spells, (2) her great-grandmother had a prophecy about her being evil, (3) she is prickly and perceives herself as disliked. However, she's so conscientious about her evilness that she only ever does the good clean-hard-work kind of magic as opposed to the blood sacrifice kind, plus she really wants friends, and her brusqueness and rudeness are the kind of thing that make the right people comfortable, and in the end she saves everyone, etc.

I like Artemisia. Murderbot is fine. I don't like El, but I might have liked her more if I'd read A Deadly Education before the other books.

These characters hate themselves for being bad. But they aren't bad, and if they've done something bad, it was because they were forced to. I want to read some books with protagonists who made bad choices, harmed others of their own free will, and don't make excuses for it or learn they weren't in control at the time. But I will also get tired of that type of protagonist if I read too many of them at once...

I think I'm mostly annoyed that a bunch of things I've read recently haven't allowed sympathetic characters to make big mistakes or be wrong to the reader about more than incidental stuff. The Italian (1796) is way more satisfying in this regard, even though it's, like, explicitly didactic. It's really exploring the psychology of this proud and power-hungry monk who traps himself with his own choices. Maybe I just need to read more older novels, of all types, or accept that modern genre-novel characters are going to be too perfect and it's going to be a convention like the ones I forgive in older books. Heck, I forgive it in contemporary romance. That's a genre.

I am now Done with fantasy/sf protagonists who are Afraid Of Their Own Evil but very clearly choosing kindness etc.

[61below]

Arwen is canonically a Little Miss Murdermittens, so I am intensely proud that her namesake is living up to her legacy

[tanoraqui]

Trick or treat!

(Ongoing notes for the unwritten further installments of Maker’s Marks)

Haldir: [saying some shit about blindfolds]

Celebrimbor: Is this seriously how kin are treated in Lothlorien now? Absolutely not. I nearly just fought a balrog. I’ll fight Celeborn myself. Let’s just go.

[idk how the intro conversation goes, actually. It’s about the Oath, mostly. Elrond forewarned her. She’s SO sarcastic, but sympathetic]

I get 3 conversations with Galadriel probably? Fairy tale rules

1. Celebrimbor: STAR-GLASSES? THREE OF THEM? Why and h o w?

Galadriel: Idk if I should tell you?

Celebrimbor: [about to shout in offended craft-elf; catches himself and deflates sadly]

Galadriel: Jk! I asked.

Celebrimbor: You…asked.

Galadriel: I was trying desperately to make just 1 for Celebrian and Elrond’s wedding, I hadn’t rested in 4 days, and I ended up just singing a request to Eärendil directly to send some down. Between us, we managed to build a temporary bridge and channel it in.

Celebrimbor: . . .

(Celebrimbor: So, Arwen…Luthien’s Choice, huh…

Galadriel, with the tone of a loving, proud grandmother who has been told off on exactly this subject: Elros’s Choice, I think)

2. Celebrimbor: [resting his head in her lap, either kneeling or length-wise, grieved beyond tears]

Galadriel, stroking his hair: Elrond said you were doing…better than this.

Celebrimbor: Elrond understands the pain of loving a monster. I was already accustomed to that. But Elrond is too young for… It’s all gone. Artanis, it’s all- Two thirds of the Greenwood is dead. Númenor is fallen. Lindon is a ghost. Our Eregion is barren. Even Khazad-Dum is dark! Shadows of regret indeed we are. Was it all for naught? Was it all for naught?

Galadriel: You have missed a great deal of joy as well as grief in your time away - much of which Elrond has known as well, Tyelpë. Do not think him unwise just because he didn’t know the bright dreams we once held, as candles against the Darkness! But…yes. Yes, we are all fading, even the dwarves and ents and halflings with us, and what dreams we have not achieved on these shores will not be achieved at all - not by us, at least. A second race cometh after, remember! I think you will like the new Minas Tirith. But that…is that. And maybe that’s okay.

Celebrimbor accuses: You don’t actually believe that.

Galadriel: . . .

3. Celebrimbor is drawn sharply to the balcony one night just before they leave, not sure at first what has woken him - until he realizes Nenya, previously just out of sense, is screaming in revulsion and longing and there is a storm building elsewhere in this haven, bright and beautiful and it threatens to twist all the wards into its hurricane scream of defiance at all who would tame it, be they long-fallen burning eyes or glorious, righteous, distant powers or maybe Eru himself. Celebrimbor thinks he should reach out but no, this is not his to interfere with, and he’s not sure he has the defenses against it anyway—

Far quicker than it had built, it stops. Nenya is gone again. The Girdle of Galadriel turns away a distant, burning glare like a hand brushes a fly off her shoulder.

Celeborn, unnoticed beside him, releases a breath. He, too, is holding himself back from reaching out to Galadriel, afraid and understanding, but he weeps with relief.

“She passed her test,” Celebrimbor says, reassurance for both of them.

“Yes.” Celeborn dries his eyes. “Indeed, I fear that when your work is done, she will be more eager to go than I. I…do not know that I can leave these trees yet.”

[annoyinglandmagazine]

The Rings of Power Should have been a sitcom

I love the second age and I feel like if it had been turned into a workplace sitcom like Brooklyn Nine Nine or the Thick of It it would have been incredible.

That’s the theme song that plays over an intro that shows all the characters in battle mixed up with going through there everyday life in court.

They could have a running gag of everyone being sort of terrified every time Galadriel comes to visit. Gil Galad scrambling to make it look like they have everything under control so she doesn’t decide to intervene. She is politically at least a few millenia ahead of everyone and has a tendency to talk to them like their exceptionally smart children. She is involved in power plays with everyone simultaneously and is usually winning.

The Gil Galad who’s the father joke is brought up frequently. Elrond seems to know something but he’s not talking. After several episodes it becomes apparent that Gil Galad hasn’t got a clue. Almost very week they will be trying to convince everyone that it’s someone entirely different. They once suggested Oropher.

Elrond refers to every single person by varying familial titles on different days. Some days he’ll start calling Gil Galad brother and people will be thinking, shit is our king a Feanorian, and the next he’ll be calling him uncle. He does this the most with the Numenoreans and makes them all very uncomfortable because why is this random elf acting like we’re at a family reunion? They generally think that elves just have weird diplomatic customs.

Elrond and Celebrimbor having really disturbing feanorian inside jokes that freak everyone out. Elrond just generally has a sense of humour that freaks everyone out. His occasional jokes about his childhood just make everyone more and more concerned because they really don’t know as much about him as they should. The aggressive throwing of knives at family trees doesn’t help.

The worst kept secret in Middle Earth is that Maedhros and Fingon were together. ‘Elrond you can’t let the minstrels play a song implying the high king and the leader of the Feanorians were fucking!’ ‘But they were!’ ‘That’s not the point!’

They keep trying to hide Elrond and Celebrimbor’s Feanorian loyalists in the closets whenever Galadriel’s around.

No one is straight. They are the queer friend group. Elrond and Gil Galad spend so much time flirting most people assume they’re together. It is occasionally alluded to that Galadriel may have had a thing with Elrond’s great great grandmother. This is never addressed.

On the rare occasion where they all work together they are unstoppable. Galadriel intimidates, Gil Galad charms, Celebrimbor knows a guy and Elrond is probably the heir to their throne.

[laoih]

Some thoughts on the newly released images of Amazon's "The Rings of Power"

After the recently released covers for Empire Magazine, we know also have images from the article in HD – and I have want to briefly write a few thoughts about them. There is good and bad in these images, but for me the overall tendency is still negative.

But let's go into details, and start with the Harfoots:

Compared to the Hobbits in the Shire, these images indeed give the impression of a society from an earlier time in their development, and a more simplly structured society. The Harfoots aren't supposed to be the Hobbits from the Shire, and the images show that. In that regard they look fine. From a design point of view my main issue is are the leaves in people's hair, and Sadoc's hair looks ridiculous.

Content-wise it's more difficult. I love Tolkien's Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, but I have no interest in the Harfoots, especially not in the Second Age. Maybe the show will make me care about one of these characters eventually, but so far these images don't spark the tiniest interest.

In addition to the other four images with Harfoots, a fifth was included and it's just too much. I'll happily that the design of these lamps is beautiful, and the lightning could be nice with the sun shining through the trees – but it's already a bit too yellow, and the character designer here just looks weird. It already feels like a scene that you'd skip in a hypothetical rewatch.

Then there is the human Halbrand:

Just like the first time we saw him, it's remarkable how I just feel nothing about him when I see this image. The only thing I noticed once again that his clothes seem weird; this time it's because there seem several suns printed on his shirt, and they don't seem to be drawn (too similar and symmetrical). That feels off, but maybe that's just me.

Next up is Arondir:

This image has good lightning as well, and it looks kinda cool because Ismael Cruz Córdova looks cool. However, the character design itself still baffles me – the short hair on Elves won't ever agree with me and I would have loved to see how cool this shot would have been if Arondir would've had long hair. In addition, the more I look at the clothes the more I get a kind of Roman style from them that I'll discuss further below, and that's not a style choice for the Elves I appreciate.

In the image with Arondir, Bronwyn and Theo (I assume), and while Nazanin Boniadi is a beautiful woman the character design doesn't do anything for me either. As for Theo – it's an unlucky still for him, the facial expression just makes him look kind of goofy. I wonder what made them pic this still.

Now we get to some characters that are actually know from Tolkien's writings. Let's start with the two characters that disappointed me the most in terms of character design – Elrond and Gelebrimbor:

Elrond's character design had already been released before, so it's not much of a surprise. However, the image strengthened my belief that I just can't get used to the character design. For Celebrimbor I feared the worst, and unfortunately these fears were confirmed.

Neither Elrond nor Celebrimbor look anything like I imagined these characters to look, and based on the reactions I have seen many fans share the sentiment.

Both with unusual short hair, and Elrond seems too young while Celebrimbor is too old. Elves are supposed to look ageless, and after a little while you won't see much difference between them anymore. Peter Jackson's movies did that right: Legolas and his father Thranduil basically look the same, age-wise. The same goes for Arwen and her grandmother Galadriel.

Not so this show: for someone being at least about a thousand years old (as confirmed by the Empire Magazine article), Elrond looks way too young – something caused by the weirdly modern character design because the actor would otherwise have the right age. Celebrimbor on the other hand looks older than any ageless Elf should look, and nothing about him resembles even closely the image of a famous smith and craftsman.

Both character designs lack the inherent beauty that the Elves should have in general. There may be a statement in this somewhere about beauty, but if the show's creators don't want to depict Elves as beautiful, maybe they should have picked a different series altogether. This beauty is simply a prominent feature of the Elves when compared to Mankind.

To summarize my rant: Elrond and Celebrimbor are two very important characters in the history of Middle-earth, and in my eyes the show butchered their casting and character designs completely.

So, what about Gil-galad?

Oh, where to begin? Many fans seem happy about this character design. Unfortunately, I'm not.

It starts with all the gold: Gil-galad is famously associated with silver as his heraldic device shows silver stars on blue. Then there is the golden wreath: the wreath itself looks crude and lacks any Elvish elegance or finesse, and reminds me way too much of Caesar. It also looks uninspired and makes me miss Thranduil's leaf crown from Peter Jackson's The Hobbit.

Truth to be told: I'm not happy about the casting either. In this image, I don't see the last High King of the Noldor, I rather see a friendly but naive neighbor questioning his Caesar cosplay in the mirror.

The article writes:

"Also different is Gil-Galad, the last High King Of The Ñoldor in later years, slightly less sure on his feet as this less-seasoned Second Age ruler."

What later years? Gil-galad has had the time to be High King of the Ñoldor for at least thousand years, and he has lived through the First Age. With Elendil already in the picture at this time, there aren't many more seasons he'll get!

Another still with beautiful lightning – however, the details are once again frustrating. The weird golden wreaths are repeated here, and especially with the short haired Elves this looks even more like a meeting of Caesar cosplayers now. Then there is the dumb idea to dress these characters in long wide robes with even longer capes, only to add plate armour on top of it. What are they supposed to do like this? At best this is purely ceremonial, because this is neither pleasent to wear nor is it practical to fight in. I can't stop scratching my head because it doesn't make any sense to me.

In this image now, I like the atmosphere. The forst with the golden lamps, it looks beautiful. I just wish we could edit out the characters in it, because it reminds me once again how disappointing the character designs of Elrond and Celebrimbor turned out to be, and how Benjamin Walker doesn't seem kingly to me at all in what we have seen so far. In addition: why are some of the female Elves in the corners veiled?

To end on a positive note: you can hardly go wrong with landscape stills.

In summary: most of the character designs are disappointing for me, and the majority of the actors seem miscast so far. This is not to slight the actors – I'm sure they are good actors and will do their best, but I based on what I've seen so far I don't think they fit Tolkien's characters as I imagine them. Of course everyone will have their own version in their heads, but I think from what we see they don't seem to fit what little we have of the characters' descriptions from Tolkien, either.

Overall, the style and the atmosphere just don't feel like Middle-earth so far. They made the point often enough: they don't want to copy the movies in order to avoid being compared to them. Well, they are still being compared with them – simply because the movies, in a way, managed to capture a feeling that felt like the world Tolkien was describing in his work, while the Amazon series tries to update the show with modern looks, fantasy-atypical elements and and overall to strong emphasis on look-we-are-doing-our-own-thing. Bringing new ideas to the table is fine. However, subverting so many expecations in such a huge way may not be a good strategy. Game of Thrones had to learn that about their series final season plot. Maybe Amazon's The Rings of Power has to learn this about the series' design – but based on their interviews it's doubtful they ever listened.

[malkaleh]

Honestly, I really really do not like movie!Elrond. That is my salty fan opinion. (He is Not My Cake/Elrond).