#maedhros x you

[lovefairymina]

*while brushing maedhros' hair,* hope our kids have your hair

“You truly desire that?” he asked, stunned at your confession. He was hoping that you would be against the idea of your children inheriting his hair and opted for yours instead. He had always loved your colour more than he did with his. It was lovely. “Well then, we must cross our fingers and pray that your wish comes true.”

[ruiniel]

Kiss prompt 30 with Maedhros and female or gender neutral reader, he's such a tragic character and I love it

Aw, my favorite kinslayer... here's a short with a human!attendant reader, implied established relationship, Himring era, Maedhros being a tad insecure

Here for you

The drafty corridors of Himring fortress resound with your steps as you wander, summoning your gall and clutching the sense of boneless ease still present from that first sight of the company beyond the battlements. You saw him riding fast from afar, plied against his mount as skewed winds whipped his hair around his face; a flame, in the grey light of day.

Sometime later, you’re slipping through the heavy door without even knocking, unannounced, unheeded; for that one moment, you forget yourself and freeze to the spot.

He is seated on his bed. Warm, scented steam weaves inside the room from the bath chamber. 

Your eyes meet. His wavy auburn locks are heavy and dark, plastered to his face, falling in tendrils down his loose, blood-red tunic. 

There is raw confusion on his face, but the ruler of Himring, renowned diplomat and prince of his people, is not easily pressed at a disadvantage. You know it by the way his tired gaze changes as he stares back at you. 

“You’ve returned… earlier.” You spell the obvious, feeling shameless in your boldness, and unnerved at being the first to speak. Your legs are slow to shuffle towards him, and your relief turns near-delirious the closer you are.

He leans on his good arm, his features unreadable in the dim light of the candles. He always chooses low lighting for his chambers, and though he rarely shows it these days, you wonder at the prevalent changes brought on by his torment long ago. Your eyes unwittingly follow the shine of his mithril hand, the smooth, gleaming metal fingers splayed so lifelike over his thigh. A work of art and utility. A gift he rarely uses, deeming it an unnecessary addition and cumbersome in battle. But this time, he’d chosen to wear it.

“We were fortunate,” Maedhros answers, keenly following your approach, watching as you kneel before him on the floor. “I tried not to ruin your handiwork too much,” he says, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees as he watches you.

A smile strives to your face, remembering all the times he came to you slashed, cut, poisoned even, and you’d sicken with worry and never had your hands worked so eagerly, nor so carefully. Now, you barely keep from rising and tackling him into his fur-covered bed, steeling yourself into some manner of patience as you rise. Your throat is tight, your voice small. “You should have called for me.” It was your duty, after all, to help him, though he minds himself easily nowadays. Perhaps you simply fear he will not need you anymore; at least, you catch the unworthy lash of such thoughts and send them from your mind.

He sighs. “I was about to.” He straightens. “But not for this,” he gestures to the clothing effects scattered around him, then meets your stare, frowning. His throat bobs as he swallows; you’d give anything, anything, to know what he sees.

He falls silent as you near close enough to stand between his long legs; your hands alight on his shoulders as his head tilts back, grey eyes riveted on you.

Your fingers are slow to tangle in his hair, delighted at the softness brushing your skin. Real; he feels so real, not a figment of your fancy. “You must be spent,” you say, knuckles lightly grazing his cheek, tracing the wild scar curving low along his face, ending at his upper lip. You burn to know more but as his eyes close and the lines of tension smoothen on his face, it becomes clear this is not the time for it; later.

“We did not stop to rest,” he concurs, now gazing at you through slits of dark storm as your fingers thread through his hair. “... only where needed.” He raises his hand, and you feel the hesitant pressure on your side, his warm fingers digging into the material of your robe. “...to tend to the horses…” he mouths absently.

His breath hitches as you bend to place a soft, lingering kiss on his brow. You try your hardest to stay a primal shiver, warring between concern for his well-being and ravenous selfishness. He smells of the lavender-scented oil he uses to soothe his nerves and aid his rest. “Shall I help with your garments, my lord?” you croak, asking the same question you’d posed the very first time you met Maedhros Fëanorion, as his healer and attendant. 

“Yes,” he says, undaunted. “Please.”

Kneeling again, you reach for the fastenings of his collar, undoing them one by one, studying him as you go, tracing the memories linked with yours. The scar cutting his right brow; the one across his lips, sketched down to his chin; they never healed, and you dare not dwell on the stories behind them. His lower lip is plumper than the upper one, and he has a habit of gnawing on it, as he is doing now.

“Why are you grinning?” he asks, legs slowly closing around you so you’re trapped, your hip bones against the hard flesh of his inner thighs; a long, calloused hand finds your cheek as you undo the last clasp on his tunic. 

“You’re beautiful.” You touch more skin, smiling at the freckles pressed like wreaths in the dearest of places. Your lips part as his left pectoral tenses beneath your hand, and he is already working on the sash at your middle; the movement hastier than you’re used to from him.

“You need not say such things to me,” he murmurs, leaning forward so his face is pressed into you when the sash comes undone. 

You shudder at the touch of metal fingers tracing your bare back, the cold melding with the warmth of his mouth and you want him for more—but he mistakes your reaction for something else. You know it the moment he breaks away and looks at you with resignation and regret; when his hand falls to his side and he averts his eyes. 

You lean forward, nose brushing against his, then press your lips to his cheek. “Remove it,” you whisper, clutching at him in earnest and staring into the shining, jet-black centers of his eyes. “Please.” 

His forearm flexes when your fingers alight on the clasps keeping the prosthetic attached to his wrist, and he gifts you a weary smile as he meets your eyes again. “... All right.”

prompt list

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Aite, female character and general inclusivity rant incoming. Hate it and want to make a post? Sure. But give me the respect I gave those who inspired this and don’t tag me in it:

People immediately bringing the ‘female character’ argument into things drives me insane. Like we know she’s a female character, but trust me, that’s got very little to do with why people dislike her.

Are some people misogynistic? Absolutely!

Are most people misogynistic? No.

When we talk about Galadriel, and Luthien, and Elwing, and Aredhel, and Nimloth, and Melian, and Nerdanel, and Ahsoka, and Padme, and *insert literally any female character from any fandom here*, being female has nothing to do with it. It barely crosses our minds.

So for the love of all that is good, stop bringing ‘but she’s a female character! Anyone who sees her as anything but perfect, or thinks the male characters made better choices than her is obviously horrible and misogynistic and would never do this to a man :(‘ Into arguments.

I don’t care how few there are in the work. You can explain why you like her without blaming people for hating on the fact she’s female when 95% don’t. There are very literally hundreds of other reasons people interpret fictional events which portray the fem char negatively.

Especially in work like the Silm which is written by a canonical in-universe historian with basic backstory. We have every right to see him as unreliable and play with what that could mean. Doesn’t make it misogynistic if we want to see female characters as more shifty than they’re outwardly portrayed. Many of us often do the same with male characters, and even if we don’t, you have no right to judge someone so harshly when you barely know a thing about them outside an online persona. 99.9% of people don’t even consider male vs female when they write these things. And it’s not because of some weird subconscious misogyny either.

This is mainly aimed at those who bring this up over. And over. And over again in some weird attempt at guilt tripping people into ‘liking’ characters.

On the topic of things people do that make no sense, if characters are stated as being white, and an artist draws them all white. You have no right to say they’re being racist or whatever else you want to come up with.

Nor do you have the right to slander anyone who casually points out the character is white if others draw them as anything else. If we can call out whitewashing, we can talk about the opposite too. As long as the person isn’t being outright rude, have a conversation.

And don’t get me started on tagging pieces of fanart and fics specifically created platonic with a ship. Like the work? Great! Now respect the intentions of the person who created it.

No one in a fandom space, especially artists and writers, owes inclusivity of any kind when running off canon source material. You want to blame someone for a boring cast, blame the author! But even in general? You don’t get to force or guilt others to create content - original work included - that fits your ideal.

Yes I’m a writer and artist of original and fan content. Yes I’ve experienced all of these directly or indirectly.

Sincerely, a young brown woman tired of all the double standards.

[morgancrystal]

My offering to all the maedhros x fingon fans out there!

[maedhrosiseverything2me]

(Maedhros being furious at Y/N after saving her from orc ambush)

Y/N: why are you being angry at me!!

Maedhros: I just don't want to see you get hurt!

Y/N:....

Maedhros: those orcs could have killed you!!

Y/N: I CAN HANDLE MYSELF, THANK YOU!!

Maedhros: I know you think you're tough, BUT YOU ARE FCKING 5 FEET TALL!!

Y/N: I AM 5 FOOT 2!!

Maedhros: STILL TOO SHORT!!

Y/N: EVERYTHING IS TOO SHORT FOR YOU, YOU FCKING GIRAFFE!

[witchofhimring]

To you who is lost

Chapter 2: The girl with daises

Chapter synopsis: Once you were the cheerful maiden with daisies.

Warnings: Angst, abandonment, crying, pregnancy, bullying

Note: I absence from updating has been due to school. Any future updates will be more frequent from here on.

You had numerous friends as a child. As they bloomed into adulthood they developed skills that won them acclaim. Only what could they say about you? As a young child you were called árë, for there was light and warmth wherever you went. While your friends were creating creations of renowned you flittered around. Dancing like light upon the land they heaped praise upon you. It was why you wore daisies as they represented everything a maiden should be. Still, there was a widening emptiness in you. What was there to achieve with your gift? None had abused you for it and yet nothing could banish such feelings.

Early one morning you woke to sunlight. The fluffy orange cat who had found a bed in your sheets yawned luxuriously. Stretching out you reveled in the sensation of a quiet sunny day. Your door opened and in came ílë, blonde hair streaming behind her. "Mother has made breakfast." ílë's family lived next to yours and had cultivated a close friendship. Your parents had a hard days ride to the court of Queen Indis. Due to age and the seriousness of their journey you had been left behind. This invoked no sadness as court was tedious and stifling. Young you may be, but responsible enough. A friend of your mothers checked in every day on your younger sister, brother and yourself.

When you woke the little ones up there was much grumbling. Almiel huffed and rolled over, refusing to get up. Ciryon followed his sisters lead and dove under the covers. This was nothing new. Normally it was your duty to care for the younger ones. Some days Almiel awoke without fuss. If she did not then it was lots of grumbling, with Ciryon following her lead. Not missing a beat you pulled away the covers and opened the window. The chirping of birds drifted on warm air. Groaning, Almiel rolled over with a great yawn. "We are going to ílë's for breakfast." Going over to Ciryon's bed you removed the blankets. "I won't." He grumbled, but upon seeing the Almiel was up Ciryon sat up. Leaving them to get changed you went to find a dress. It was warm and merry out today, so you settled for a light blue dress with long sleeves. It was light with no ornaments though it suited the weather. Your siblings were ready in a moment. No doubt excited to partake in a delirious breakfast.

ílë, who had briefly ran next door, returned. All four of you left and hurried inside. ílë's house always impressed you with its marble fixtures. Possessing a door of rose opal colour, the symbol of ílë's family hung above. Upon entrance you were treated with an indoor fountain, light shinning down from stained glass windows. ílë's family was important in the court of Queen Indis and had connection with the Vanyar. On the maternal side she was descended from King Ingwë, although distantly. Coming down ornate stairs was the only member of the household you were not taken to. Ellótë was ílë's elder sister, although you did not know her very well. At a distance the two looked alike, but once one looked closer they could clearly see differences. Ellótë would have looked nice if she did not constantly look like she was observing everyone and everything. She was not cruel or even unkind, just aloof. "Do your parents know?" It was you who answered. "Yes, of course." The words were friendly enough, although they lacked warmth. Despite being slightly older you cowered. Ellótë's simply nodded and glidded off. 'You should not think my sister means you any harm.' Your friend reasoned.

Turning left the group entered the great hall. A large marble table stretched from one end to the other. It's high ceiling made you have to crane your head up to see. The high chairs presented during formal celebrations were put away and benches now served as seats. At the head sat Lord Falastir cut an impressive figure, sitting there in a fine silver robe. His golden hair hung loose, eyes like sapphires. He hailed from a great family. His father was King Finwë's right hand man, his mother a woman of great renown. Falastir's ancestors had faithfully served kings, thus he was seen as a worthy contender for the hand of Erulissë, King Elwë's relative and ílë's mother. ílë' greeted her father with a kiss before taking a seat. After her came you, who greeted him in a similar matter. Then came your siblings who professed their gratefulness. Once everyone was seated the doors opened and food was brought. "Where is Ellótë'?" "We saw her earlier, Atar. Although I know not where she went." Secretly you were grateful. Childish it may sound but Ellótë' scared you.

At some point Lady Erulissë swept in. ílë jumped up from her seat and rushed forward. "I hope my lateness is not inconvenient. I received a letter from King Finwë. He has invited us to Tirion, along with you're kin Y/n. No doubt you shall receive a letter from you're parents." "Really! We are to go to Tirion!" You shared a look of excitement with ílë, who returned one of equal jubilation. "Is there a party?" Almiel asked eagerly. "Why yes. His eldest grandson has just reached adulthood and the King wishes to celebrate." Elves did not commonly make great celebrations on every birthday. That being said, when one reached adulthood a party would be thrown in their honour. You had celebrated your own a while back.

The rest of breakfast was spent talking about the upcoming party. Little did you know that this was the beginning on a great change.

It did not take long for your parents to return. Immediately upon returning they were getting ready to depart once more. Quickly everything needed was packed, and to the delight of both you and Almiel new dresses were made. "I can hardly let either of you be seen in anything less than splendor. And you Y/n are a woman grown. So remember to show you're best." In a short time the rest of you're kin, cousins and all, arrived. Because you were no longer a child it meant a horse would be needed. Only children rode in the carriage. Relishing having to opportunity to act as a woman grown, it made you sad to not be traveling beside ílë. ílë must remain in the carriage with the younger ones. Instead, to your great chagrin, Ellótë was your company, for she too was grown. Thankfully she had nothing to say, and likewise it was the same for you.

The great party, made of many important families, stopped at a house belonging to Arafinwë. Arafinwë, youngest of Finwë's sons, was the most fair in temper and appearance. He great the party flanked by wife and four children. Findaráto, his eldest and heir, walked up to your horse and took the reigns. His apperance and bearing nearly took your breath away. It was no exaggeration to say he was the fairest of King Finwë's. Golden hair of the Vanyar fell to his waist in waves. Blue eyes that were reminiscent of glittering gems looked welcomingly upon you. His aura held the bearing of a king's grandson, beautiful and gentle. You tried not to look to pleased when he took your hand. Giving your greetings to Lord Arafinwë and his wife you were spirited off to join your family. Unfortunately the prince had to leave you. Hiding your disappointment you went to find Ilë. She was being assisted by one of Arafinwë's sons. He gave you a smile and was quickly whisked away to greet another. "Do you not think they look so handsome." She giggled. "Have you seen Prince Findaráto?" Ilë shook her head and you eagerly took her hand. Trying to chance another glimpse of the prince you noticed your younger sister being lead by a woman. From her bearing and clothes you supposed this was Artanis. She was lovely as her brothers. What separated her was the bearing of pride clearly evident. Not a cruel sort, but the type that drew people to her.

"I believe you are the sister." She gave you a winning smile that made your face grow hot. "Lady Artanis." You greeted her with a curtsy. Giving you an approving nod Artanis bid your sister to join her family. "I apologies if she was any trouble." Trying not to stumble on your words it took some difficulty not to shy away. "Not at all. She is a credit to your house." With that, Artanis was called over and she wished you well. This left you in charge of Ilë and your sister. "Where is Ciryon?" Almiel pointed over to your parents. They were talking to an elleth, a noble one by the looks of her. Black hair hung to her knees, pearls adorning the tresses. Her navy blue gown was plain yet carried and air of regality. Her very being seemed to be the very embodiment of nobility.

"Should we?" Ilë looked to you. Her support, tepid as it may be, encouraged you. Ilë and Almiel followed you, slightly intimidated. When your mother looked over she said "And these are our daughters. Y/n is our eldest and Almiel the youngest. Girls, this is Lady Anarië, Lady of the House of Nolofinwë." She smiled and your face grew hot. Because you had only recently reached adulthood Lady Anarië was still a stranger. Long had your family been in the service of her house. As a young woman your mother had been a companion. The same path was expected of you. In a short period of time you would serve a great lady. Lady Anarië lead all of you in for tea, however only Lord and Lady Y/n truly spoke. Keeping quiet you sipped tea and hoped to make a favourable impression. Unfortunately you were not blessed with wit or confidence. What you had learned to do was sit politely and look pretty, like a daisy.

'When are we leaving?' Almiel whispered. Placing a small hand on her shoulder you whispered 'Not now. Hush.' The food was delectable but you had to make pains to to seem greedy. Small morsel after small morsel went into your mouth. You were thinking of this upcoming journey. At court you would have to be on form always. As the eldest daughter the pressure was on you to perform. 'Y/n will love Tirion. I promise on my honour to keep her safe until such a time as she passes into the hands of my mother-in-law.' That got your attention. Looking up from the food, eyes darting from Anarië, Toronto, ON to your mother. 'Is that not good news?' Your mother proclaimed. You felt Almiel tug at your dress. 'Sorry?' Immediately you felt stupid. As you so often felt in company. Trying to ignore the embarrassment that ran through you, you nodded, curtsied, and said "Of course". Anarië clapped her hands together. 'How wonderful! You need to worry Y/n you will feel right at home.' That was when your brain caught up to what was actually happening. Your mouth opened up like a fishes before gulping shut. On the outside you merely looked nervous, inside you wanted to run.

And you said absolutely nothing in the plans of your own future.

You knew this day would come. Ever lesson, dance music, painting sewing and so much more was to prepare you for this. But it had all come so quickly it sent your head spinning. You had wanted to spent time are your friends place and figure out your craft. Instead you would be sent far away to Tirion. Almiel and Ciryon had wept buckets of tears making it harder. Worse still, ílë would not be coming. Her parents wanted to wait another few years which while not long felt far away. One comfort was that you could visit home one last time before leaving for a new life. The remaining journey was made in silence, at least on your part. You were torn between excitement and sadness. Living at your would not be horrible. Many would consider you very luck. If you had chosen this then the situation might have been different. Now as an adult you would still have your future written by others. With neither the willpower or bravery, you were a flower petal in the wind.

Keeping back tears you bid your father and brother goodbye. They could not know your true thoughts. Ciryon wept buckets of tears that made you want to cry. Even your fathers eyes looked glassy, and yet you still remained stalwart. Riding had never been so hard. The only comfort you had was your mother and sister. Almiel had kicked up a storm when it was suggested the party leave without her. 'It may be a good die. Almiel is older now.' Your mother had reasoned. Grimly you wondered why your little sister, not yet an adult, had more spirit than you. Perhaps that was why you had no gift, your fire was non existent.

Several days passed on the way to Tirion. You tried to think on how lovely Tirion was, how lovely the balls had been. And you might find a match. These thoughts slightly uplifted your spirit during the journey. In order to be prepared you were given new dresses, that was something. Your parents could visit, friends to. And you could always make new friends at court. Or at least try to.

The night before you would arrive at Tirion, and a new life, you found yourself staring out the window. Nighttime always made you feel lonely. Telperions light ruled over Valinor at this hour. Having a preference for its younger twins light Laurelin you sadly stared at the sky. The night banished rays of light, of fire. A state without fire was a despondent state. If represented a lack of will, being lesser. Not that you had voiced these grievances to anyone. They might consider it an insult to the trees themselves. Telling the truth however was far worse in your mind. Some things were better kept hidden.

What would your life be like? Anarië had shown you the room you would sleep in. It was beautiful with light blue walls, golden pillars and a window opening out onto a beautiful garden. Anarië had been more than kind to you. Yet you would be but one of many ladies in her train. You would have to rely on your pitiful yourself, and that was a terrifying thought. Keeping hope was difficult in the face of such darkness.

The day you entered Tirion it was raining. Grey clouds blocked Lauriens light much to your dismay. Given the sudden turn of the weather your mother, sister and yourself were now in a carriage. Behind you in another were other attendants. 'Will we see the queen?' Almiel inquired. 'Likely not, your sister is serving the Lady Anarië. And one day you may too.' Almiel shook her head. 'I want to serve the queen.' Stubborn, you knew she would likely get her wish. Yet you could not bring yourself to resent her. Your own shortcomings were not her fault. Up to the marble palace your carriage trundled, bearing you along like a piece of luggage.

Under a canopy in the courtyard were a group of women. Guessing it was the delegation summoned to great you, you suddenly felt yourself sweat. These elleths were do doubt unhappy about having to wait out here in such weather. When the carriage stopped you summoned whatever courage you processed and got out. Immediately and elf stepped out and held an umbrella above your head. The four that were waiting took a step forward. Tentatively you made the remaining gap. 'Lady Y/n, we are pleased you have arrived. Our lady awaits you in her chambers.' Golden hair tumbled to the elleths knees. Her blue robes were adorned with pearls which even in this weather were brilliant in colour. Comfortingly she was smiling which made you brave enough to look at the others. Stern, but none looked angry. At least that was good. Ladies who served the royal household did many such tasks. Feeling better with this thought you relaxed ever so slightly.

They greeted your mother and the blond one bent to say kindly 'Hello there, you must be the sister.' Going up the long marble stairs was hazardous for one not accustomed to such. Thankfully being born as the First Children had advantages, and remaining upright was easier. The tall archway was white adorned with beautiful carving of leaves and words interwoven with them. On the left hand side was a large wheel. When the order was given it burst into motion and the large doors swept open. The entrance hall was white with silver banners hanging from pristine walls. Statues lined the rows looking down on anyone who passed through. Every footstep echoed, making you think of many creatures scurrying. Light came in through windows in the ceiling. Normally that was the case but given the weather torches were needed. A large throne draped in silk sat on a raised up platform, though as of now it was empty.

Going through a side passage you were lead of several flights of stairs and down a hall. Finally you came to a door embodied with a golden sun, surrounded by a disk. With a knock on the door you were let in. Anarië sat in the midst of her ladies. They sat sewing, reading or chatting away only to fall silent upon your arrival. Smiling, Anarië rose to her feet saying 'Welcome to the home of King Finwë.' Into a deep curtsey you bent, one practiced many times. With a gracious hand she rose you up. 'I thank you My Lady. It was very kind of you to allow me to serve.' With a wave of the hand Anarië insisted it was no great effort on her part. 'Gloriel, please assist Y/n in getting settled in.' Gloriel was the blond elleth with pearls. 'Pleased to meet you. Follow me.' With one last glance back at the elleths you followed Gloriel out.

'The other rooms are occupied by other ladies of the household. Queen Indis's reside on the upper levels.' Gloriel gave you a tour of the West Wing, which was now your home. Already your luggage had been brought up. Your new bedroom was so grand, but you could not imagine this being your home. Back home your bedroom was smaller and slightly messy, but it was home. This felt like a strangers room, likely was at some point. 'Feel free to make this place your own.' Gloriel stepped into the room after you. 'You will get used to this place. It will simply take time.' You wanted to tell her that this would never be your home. Not that those words every left your mouth, Eru forbid! 'Thank you, that is very kind.' Gloriel let you setting into the room first. There were four trunks in the room. Two processed clothes and the others various artifacts. Older clothes you sorted out first. More interesting were the new ones. Admiring each dress you hung them up in a grand dresser. Servants could do this task but you had requested to do it yourself. Once that was completed you set about with the smaller things. A comb and hand mirror were placed on a silver vanity. Jewelry, perfumes, books and other things found their come in cabinets and drawers. Lastly was your gardening kit. In a desperate attempt to find some sort of ability you had considered gardening. They called you the Daisy-Maiden and gardening seemed like something you could do (or so mother said).

Stepping back, you felt the place looked more familiar. Perhaps once you lived here for a bit things would be different. 'Well I should hope so. I will not be bothering with her if she proves to be a chore.' The haughty voice made you want to run and hide. When the door opened you nearly jumped. Glormiel entered followed by a sour looking elleth. She would have looked beautiful. had she not that scowl on her face. Her dark brown hair and eyes were lovely. Her strong arms showed she was not unfamiliar with physical exercise. High cheekbones and narrow set eyes put you in mind of a cat. A silver gown showed off the slim outline of her figure. 'Y/n, this is Emmeril. I sorely hope the two of you will get along.' There was a warning edge to her tone, although you had a feeling it was not meant for you.

Emmeril did not spend much time with you. The moment she could Emmeril pawned you off to another. You tried not to feel hurt by it. Besides, most others were nicer. Varya and Faniel, cousins to Queen Indis, were both golden haired and very kind. Faniel had herself just arrived from King Olwë's court. Varya was slightly younger in years than yourself, although she had been here longer.

The moment you arrived there was hardly time to relax. A ball had been planned for the return of King Finwë's eldest son and his family. For hours on end the ladies of Anarië were sent sewing. The king had ordered banners with his sons sigil emblazed upon it. Why there were not others made already you did not know. 'Is there always such a fuss whenever the prince returns home?' Sewing by a window looking out on the garden you were partly sewing partly watching Emmeril practicing her swords work. Steele gleamed in the sunlight wielded by her strong hands. Like a dancer every move was precise. 'Every time. However I do not believe Curufinwë likes them very much. Varya was completing the finishing touches to Anarië's golden down. 'Truly? Then why does the king put them on?' You inquired. 'He does love the prince and misses him greatly.' 'Does Prince Curufinwë often leave court?' 'He does.' 'Why?' Rather than answer Varya simply shrugged. You had your own guesses. It was well known that the eldest son of the kind bore no love for the queen. She that had replaced his mother as queen was as detested back then as she was now by Curufinwë. Traveling was perhaps his way of scorning her presence.

'His three eldest will be attending.' At that both let out a giggle. Excitement caused you to nearly jump up. 'Truly!?' 'They are! Have you met them?' Shaking your head you waited. 'oh Y/n you are in for such a treat! They are all so handsome.. especially.." They both dissolved into giggles. Feeling very hot you knew who they were talking about. Curufinwë's eldest son went by several names. Maitimo, meaning well-formed, was said to be tall, fair and handsome. Never having met him it left his precise features to the imagination. Trying not to look to excited you went back to sewing. Yet your thoughts lingered on the handsome prince.

'They are here!' Night had come and the ball had begun. While Anarië was making the rounds welcoming guests you and several others had slipped off. Your presences would not be noted, at least for such a short period of time. Younger ones such as yourself went out to the large balcony overhanging the courtyard waiting in great anticipation. Any moment the princes would be coming. Eagerly everyone looked out until you cried out 'There!' A crimson carriage drawn by large black horses came trundling off the path. Everyone watched as it stopped at Prince Curufinwë stepped out. Coming out after was his wife Nerdanel. Next came stumbling out two, one with hair light as Laurelin's rays and the others hair black like his father. Lastly exited the eldest. He was just as they described, flaming red hair, tall, and yet more beautiful. Had someone told you he was a woman on first sight you would have believed it. He glanced around before looking up. For just a fraction of a moment your eyes met. Something powerful moved in you at that moment. Seized with such a ferocity you left like to faint.

Staggering back you nearly fell. At that moment the rest had decided to head in. Glad that your momentary lapse in propriety had gone unnoticed you lingered behind. You were shaking with something you could not explain. Excitement? Heart beating you wanted to flee and speak to him at the same time. Following, you stopped at the entrance of the Great Hall. The rest were already crowding the princes. As much as you desired to join them you had not the bravery. You could see Maitimo's copper locks. He was smiling charmingly and talking to maidens. You wanted to join them, but something was stopping you. Standing there alone, you cursed yourself for such timidity.

The next time you saw Maitimo it was a week later. King Finwë had ordered a picnic and had his whole family attend. Apparently it was considered completely normal for Princes Curufinwë and Nolofinwë to glair at each other from opposite end of the clearing. Sitting under Anarië's canopy you enjoyed the crisp breeze. With you were Faniel and Anarië's only daughter Írissë. 'Mother, when will Tyelkormo arrive?' 'Soon, my love.' For someone whose name meant "hasty-riser" he sure was taking his time.

'My son, and you brought Maitimo.' Anarië smiled seeing her nephew. 'Aunt.' Maitimo looked completely relaxed in her company. You heard rumors that Curufinwë resented his younger brother in part because his eldest was good friends with his. Maitimo's head turned towards Írissë and yourself. Trying not to seem to shy you greeted him politely. 'Findecáno, will you take your sister and Y/n with you?' Feeling bashful you graciously rose. Findecáno took your hand and with a dazzling smile. Not wanting to seem like a complete dolt you politely allowed him the lead.

Not too far away some other ladies and royal children were playing. Írissë, wanting to play with her favourite cousin, rather unceremoniously abandoned Maitimo. Findecáno at least remembered to courteously sit you down before himself running off. To your surprise Maitimo, rather than take off, sat down beside you. Sitting there Ridgely you considered what to say. But it was Maitimo himself who started the conversation. 'You are my aunts newest lady.' 'Yes My Prince.' At least your voice had not trembled. He had a soft voice, yet deeper than you had imagined. Maitimo spoke as if every word was thought of beforehand. Then he gave you a smile. Quite lovely, the rays of Laurien illuminated his already fine features. 'Well then, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.' Deciding for a simple answer you said 'I thank you for your kind welcome.'

For a while more the two of you sat there in silence. Then, once more, it was Maitimo who began the conversation. 'What is it that you do?' 'I am sorry?' 'What I mean is, what is your skill?' Or goodness. Feeling extremely uncomfortable you wondered whether to speak the truth or not. But before you could act Maitimo's attention was taken by his third brother and cousin, who at that moment chose to fight one another. As he raced over to separate the two you felt profound relief.

The first interaction what been rather quick and only half remembered in later years. But for the next few weeks your thoughts drifted, ever now and then, to the prince. Yet life went on and soon your thoughts diverted elsewhere. Life had settled into a new normal and soon you felt quite at home here. You had friends, although you wrote to ílë often. She was doing well and ever letter asked about court. Eagerly she waited at home till it would be her turn. Truly you hoped she would be in the service of your lady. But it may please her parents to put ílë in the service of Queen Indis. or, and you did not want to consider this, be sent to serve Eärwen. The court of Arafinwë did not linger at the court of his father. Like Curufinwë he preferred to reside elsewhere, although for different reasons. You really hoped your friend would not be sent so far away.

Curufinwë briefly left with his wife Nerdanel and a select few member of his household. His sons were surprisingly left behind in Tirion. This could partly be due to the fact Queen Indis was currently enjoying a seaside vacation and therefore not in the castle. You would end up meeting Maitimo on a warm day when your sister had come to visit. While you were away Almiel had grown even more beautiful. Taller, her h/c hair had become glossy and shinny. Much of the baby fat younger children had seemed to melt away leaving behind a lovely woman. Eagerly she listened as you told her about the court. 'Oh Y/n I so want to join you at court!' Placing an arm around you, Almiel was assured that her time would come.

Striding around the secluded pond, the silence was broken when a group of horses clattered into the clearing. Startled, you brought Almiel to your side. There was a hunt going on. At the very head was Maitimo. 'is that the prince!' Almiel whispered. Sinking into a curtsy you took Almiel by the hand. 'Lady Y/n, I had not thought to see you out here.' Maitimo got off his horse and bid his men to continue on. While you knew this was simple courtesy it still made you nervous. Almiel was practically shaking with excitement beside you. You placed a hand on her shoulder. Maitimo laughed. 'I did not know you had a sister. Before you could speak Almiel beat you to the punch. 'Mai-my prince.' You nearly keeled over from mortification. She had nearly called the prince by his name!

Thankfully Maitimo it seemed took no offence to this. He asked if the pair of you would like to walk with him. 'We are having a picnic just over the hill.' As Anarië had given you leave it was quite alright for you to take such an excursion. For the short walk shrouded by trees Maitimo and you sister spoke. You walked a few steps behind them in silence. A few times you opened your mouth, but words never left. Eventually you consigned yourself to staying outside the conversation.

coming onto an oncoming clearing, Maitimo gave the pair of you leave before running of. You joined the mother ladies and talked about all sorts of things. Eventually your sister suggested a game with several younger ones. Deciding it would be prudent to keep an eye on her you followed. Just over a small hill was a crate in the earth. Rocks lead to a pond where a waterfall was falling into. On a rock you perched and quietly watched. Every now and then Almiel would show you something she found. But otherwise you said nothing else. That was when Maitimo arrived. He took a seat beside you. 'Will your sister be coming to court?' He inquired. 'Yes. I hope she will serve in the court of My Lady Anarië. It will be easier to help.' 'Your care for your sister.' 'Of course.' 'Ah, such is the duty of older siblings.' His mouth twitched. 'I dare say your task is harder.' Then, realizing it sounded rude, quickly said; 'Of course I do not suggest yours are badly behaved-' Maitimo started to laugh. 'Oh but you are right.' Relief filled you. 'They tell me your brother brought in a great big dog last week.' You said, attempting small talk. Maitimo nodded and told you of how Oromë gave Turcafinwë an enormous dog. You regaled him of Almiel's mischief. 'And the next thing you knew there were a group of ducklings following her inside! I tell you, it caused quite the ruckus. my mother has hardly touched duck since.'

The both of you enjoyed the warm long day. Hours passed with the pair exchanging tales. By the end Maitimo bid you farewell, saying you should send him more stories as he found them very entertaining. And then two days later he was gone. For years the pair of you did not met. This might have been one conversation that lead to nothing, if not for a visit from Nerdanel with her newborn son.

You did not write to Maitimo. He had written nothing to you since that day and thought Maitimo was simply humoring you. Not wanting to seem impertinent, you resigned yourself to looking back at this encounter with fondness. Year went by and you had other matters to worry about. Almiel finally came to Tirion and went into the service of Queen Indis. It made you sad but it was what she wanted. Apparently she caused quite the fuss at home. While others thought her impertinent, you admired it. Had you her spirit things might be different. On a better note ílë did come into your mistresses service.

Like last time it was quite an unassuming day. Varya, Faniel, ílë and yourself were looking at sketches of dresses. Another ball was being put on (King Finwë did love his parties) and everyone needed new gowns. 'That one is pretty.' Varya pointed to a sleek white gown adorned with swan feathers. 'Pretty, but I would hem the train less someone stumble on it.' Faniel advised. 'Perhaps the male-folk should not be so clumsy.' You jested. 'By the way, is anyone going with someone?' Your hands gripped. There was someone, but not of your choosing. Some elf you hardly knew had taken a fancy and asked Anarië. You were so alarmed and nervous you could not gainsay either of them. Later you cursed yourself as now the ball seemed less exciting.

There was a great storm roaring outside. Rain battered on the windows as Telperion's light could only just be made out in that grey mass. Anarië and several older ladies were working on a new tapestry. You could smell the beeswax candles bringing light to the room. Everything was fairly peaceful before there was a knock at the door. Gloriel entered, swept a curtsy, and said; 'My Lady, Lady Nerdanel is here.' Anarië nearly dropped her needle. 'Already? In this weather!?' Everyone stood up as Nerdanel came in, baby in arm. 'Nerdanel! And this must be Atarincë.' Anarië held the baby for a while, cooing over him. Once the greetings were over everything settled down. Unlike her sisters-in-laws and the queen Nerdanel brought no retinue of ladies, or men for that matter. She seemed quite happy to do everything herself. And so the night went on with little changing.

The moment when Maitimo and yourself met was under less than satisfactory circumstances. Your day had been going so well when Almiel raised objections about tending to Indis during the ball. There was a handsome courtier she had an eye on. They had made plans so sneak of while the revelries took place. While you did not object to the boy, you did take issue with Almiel sneaking off. 'Almiel, the queen will be expecting you.' Haughtily Almiel glared at you. In a fury you erupted and Almiel responded with a familiar tenderness. 'Is everything alright.' So wrapped up in anger you dismissed Amliel in an uncharacteristic flare of stress. Without even looking at this intruder she flounced off. Standing, stewing in your hot emotions, you did not take notice of Maitimo coming up behind you. 'Ah, I see your younger sister has come to court.' For a moment you were unable to speak. Then, turning around confused, you made to regail this stranger the tale of your frustration. 'I-' Mortified, you wanted to be swallowed up by a great dark hole. Maitimo was standing right before you. Oh how terrible this was!

Anger was gone replaced by complete and utter mortification. Never before had you been so embarrassed. 'Lady Y/n.' he gave you a courtly bow. In return you made a clumsy attempt at a curtsey. 'I see you are having trouble with a younger sibling.' With some relief you recalled that conversation from so long ago. yes that was right, he would understand. Still, you would rather he had never come across this mess. 'What did she refuse to do?' Why he took such an interest you did not know. 'My sister is simply being rash.' Although unhappy with her you still had no desire to see her in trouble. Instead of Maitimo simply deciding to leave, he continued his interest. 'In what way?' 'I am sorry...she does not mean to be bad.' Could you lie? Yet that felt wicked. 'My sister is young.'

Maitimo seemed to realize that to intrude further would be unbecoming. 'I did not receive any letters.' He said changing the topic. With a burning face you confessed that you though he would find it impertinent. To which he laughed and said you could do no harm in doing so. 'So, may I ask why you are down here?' Now that you thought about it, why was the prince here. This was the servants quarters and you were only down here to have a private conversation with Almiel. 'To get away from my brothers.' Smiling slightly, you told him of a small hiding place in the woods when your siblings acted up. 'I was not always a very good sister and daughter. It is after all my duty as the eldest to help.' Maitimo shrugged. 'I confess that to chastise you in this matter would be hypocrisy.' 'Do you hide often?' 'At times.' For some time the pair of you chattered away about siblings. You learned many things, the antics of his third eldest brother, the sneaking out at night and many more.

Sunset had fallen by the time you two broke apart. Afterwards, two days later, you wrote a letter.

Notes passed back and forth between the pair. Even after Maitimo left for his fathers castle in the mountains. About every second week there was a letter, either from you to Maitimo or the other way around. This was you found out Maitimo, aside from having a very elegant manner of writing, was a gossip. By Eru he could give you and the other ladies a run for your money. Letters were a very interesting affair.

By this time Maitimo had become a sort of facet in your life. Not overwhelming, but there. Whenever he would visit the two of you would sit and talk for a while. It was a relationship no one but the two of you knew. Although you liked your friends there was something absolutely delicious about having this secret.

And so years went by before the next great change in your relationship, where it became friendship.

The reason one would not call this a "friendship" before is because it lacked substance. There was joy to be found but it is like the acquaintance between two who regularly sit beside each other yet do not interact apart from that.

This time it was you visiting him. Or rather your mistress visiting his mother. The palace Nerdanel had been allocated upon her marriage was smaller than most but very lovely. You supposed this was the only way Nerdanel and Anarië could met up when not at Tirion. According to Maitimo his father would sooner set himself on fire than allow the "pestilent of the half-brother" enter (although Curufinwë would sooner have said invaded) his domain. Nerdanel had greeted Anarië group before everyone had tea. Once formalities were over everyone could do as their hearts desired. Here was far more relaxed than the palace. Varya, Faniel and yourself took a stroll in the large garden. Everything was overgrown and that simplicity excited you. The only downside was ílë's absence. Despite that you were determined to make the most of it.

'You must love this Y/n.' Faniel said. 'Yes this is very lovely.' 'Not doubt when you get married you will own a lovely garden.' A sinking feeling settled in the pit of your belly. gardening was not your calling. But with no gift gardening was all you could think of doing. 'Do you think Queen Indis will join us?' Varya picked some lavender. You could have kissed her with relief. 'No. At least there are no plans as of yet.' You said, disappointed. 'Well I hope so. You should know Ereme had yet to give my gold ribbon back.' Faniel huffed. 'Why not ask for it back?' Varya asked. 'I intend to. She should have given it back long ago.' 'Then you would be within your right to accost her soundly.' The two girls agreed, you remained silent. 'Could I accost someone?' You did not dare voice your worries.

Maitimo had quite suddenly strolled onto the path. In fact he had quite nearly ran into the three of you. Quickly curtsies were made. 'Rise up. I see my aunt has arrived. I must say hello...Y/n! How are you?' Both your friends looked at you in astonishment. 'V-very well.' You tried to make the smile seem natural but the stares were nearly intolerable. He did not dally very long. Soon he was off and the interrogation begun.

'You never told us!' 'What is the nature of the relationship?' 'How did the two of you meet?'

The barrage, well intentioned, made you want to flee. You told them it was hardly a relationship. That all this amounted to was writing meaningless words. Unsatisfied, they eventually stopped when it became clear you were as yielding as iron. After swearing them to silence the walk continued and nothing more was spoken. At least on that day.

'Turcafinwë!' Maitimo was not shouting at you. Still it was frightening. Normally so calm, Maitimo now seemed apoplectic with rage. You had not meant to overhear this conversation. Having been dismissed early that day, the few menial duties being done, today was given over to pleasure. Hiding behind a bush you read The Queen's Ballads, written and based off the love Queen Varda had for King Manwë. Daytime was spent enjoying stories of love when the commotion quite rudely disturbed you. Getting up you saw Maitimo towering over his silver haired brother. A few feet away was Huan, the rather large dog Turkafinwë owned.

'In the house! Turcafinwë what have it told you!' You would have ran away, and would have, had a tear not rolled down Turkafinwë's cheek. feeling moved to pity you stepped forward. 'Is everything alright?' Maitimo did a double take. 'No. We are quite alright.' His tone was clipped, eyes still on Turcawinë. Now you truly wanted to flee, but Turcafinwë looked at you so imploringly it was impossible. 'What did he do.' Shooting his brother an petulant look, he said; 'Let a filthy Huan into the house.' Looking over at the golden haired dog you saw a fine layer of mud on his paws. Oh dear. 'And now I will be the one who has to clean this mess up!' Large muddy pawprints lead their way up to the house. His anger seemed to understandable. Still, years of having to look after Cirdan and Almiel made you use to such scenes. Although never had such a large dog been brought into the house.

'Why do we not get maids or servants?' 'Because I will be blamed for this. Even though my brother here is practically grown.' 'Such is our lot.' You said, trying to take the sting out of the situation. When Maitimo still looked sour you offered to assist in the clean up. 'You need not trouble yourself.' Insisting, Maitimo eventually relented. And so for hours the three of you busily got to work. Such labor was nearly backbreaking, yet it was all worth it. As sun set the floors were practically glittering. Afterwards Turcafinwë made himself scarce. Exhausted Maitimo and yourself collapsed on the entrance stairs. 'I thank you.' 'It is no problem.' 'Ah yes. Two younger siblings.' he nodded 'I recon not as exhausting as so many brothers.' 'You speak truthfully.'

That was when you said something that transformed the relationship. Mere acquaintances rarely touch on anything too deep. Normally such sentiments are kept to those better known. But with your guard down and feeling utterly relaxed, you said; 'In truth I find it quite unfair. I mean, what if we are older? Should we constantly shoulder every burden simply on account of being born first?' Maitimo's head came up. Then he was on his feet pacing. 'You are quite right. Sometimes I find it quite infuriating.' Quite agreeing, and feeling deep seated frustration you had never given words to, you told him of how despite the love, there was resentment. 'She tore apart mummy's dress and I got the blame.' Years later the injustice still stung. Maitimo was an attentive audience. 'And your own troubles must be greater, as a prince.' He nodded. 'Tis true.' Looking out onto the sunset, you said 'If only I had the strength to tell others my feelings.' You could not imagine telling your parents this. They would be greatly disappointed and that worried you. 'Sometimes it is alright to draw a line.' The light shimmered in his bright blue eyes, and the two of you took each other in.

This was the true beginning. From that point on your relationship changed. No longer was he a mere prince but one so entrenched in your mind. Two days later Maitimo met you in the tea room and proudly told you of how he spoke to Nerdanel. 'I promise I was perfectly polite with my mother. But I told her in no uncertain terms that would I take responsibility for my siblings actions which are not of my doing.' Smiling, you congratulated him on the victory. If only you were so resolute.

This relationship brought many things to your mind. the more you bared to Maitimo the more you wondered about certain aspects of your life. Timid and shy, you told him of how you wished to be free, to make your own choices. He was sympathetic and told you of his woes concerning Curufinwë. 'It is just to very hard Y/n. He pulls me one way when my heart feels another. I love my cousins and yet he seeks to tear us apart.' As more and more was revealed you finally shared a great secret. 'I do not have a gift.' Like telling some dark secret you whispered it. Sitting in a room alone the two of you need not worry for eavesdroppers. 'Are you sure?' Maitimo questioned. 'I mean, what talent do I have? Everyone said I was good at gardening so that is what I chose.' Maitimo thought for a moment. 'What if your gift transcends such physical tasks?' 'Sorry?' You puzzled over what he had said. 'I think not everyone's gift is physical.' You gave him s small smile. 'That is kind of you to say.' 'No I mean it. What is my fathers gift?' You wasted no time in saying; 'He's a smith.' 'That is true. But it is not what sustains him, not like what music is for Maglor. It is the fire within him. His will to be great. His fire. That alone makes him great. Each elf belongs to something that makes us one with the world. An essence that dwells within us. I too have no physical gift. Sure, I excel at a great many things. But I have a feeling there is something else. Something that I belong to.' You pondered on his statement for a long time.

'See? No more garden.' Your parents had been quite shocked to find a prince come to visit. Once the walls of formality were down Maitimo did not bother with displays of majesty. He visited you as any normal person might visit a friend. Now everyone knew the prince was your friend, which was quite embarrassing. Today the two of you made war on your part of the garden. 'There. Do with this area as you will.' The two of you looked at the place where flowers and fruits once grew. You liked gardens, but laying waste to this area was liberating. When you were little mother had said this small plot of land could be yours. To do with as you wished. Feelin pressured to garden you planted there. But now it was time to truly make it yours.

The plants and fruit was not put to waste. Maitimo helped you make and make jam, and bundle up flowers to give up. Once that was done you raced back out to your plot of land and spun around. 'Look Maitimo! Its all mine!' Giggling like a child you danced on the grave of deception. Maitimo joined in the revelry, not caring how ridiculous the pair of you looked.

Your parents were to come home before dinnertime. While meat cooked in the oven you went upstairs to change. Maitimo stayed downstairs to keep an eye on things. After a while you came downstairs to find Maitimo reading. To your surprise it was The Queen's Ballads which had him so enthralled. Maitimo had once said romance books, while not wholly unappealing, were not his style. Yet it seemed he was not entirely honest. Just as you had been dishonest about your "gift". Making a noise, Maitimo jumped up blushing furiously. Nearly falling over with laughter, you tried to console him while in the grips of laughter. When you finally calmed down Maitimo looked like a tomato. It was not Maitimo reading romance that was so funny, but his abashed reaction which sparked hilarity.

'Wait no! Do not put it away.' Maitimo paused in the act of hiding his shame. 'I did not mean to tease you. Just your reaction.' Still looking abashed, Maitimo sat down. You walked over and looked to see which ballad he was on. 'Do you like this book?' he nodded. 'I thought you did not like romance.' Maitimo looked down at his feet. 'I do not mind it.' 'But why hide it?' Taking him by the chin, you tilted his face up. 'I told you my secrets, now you should tell me yours.' Your smile made him smile. And the two of you spent the remaining day reading. Just as he encouraged honesty from you, so did you in him.

When you fell in love with Maitimo one could not say. The pair of you were around each other so often it was hard to tell. Often these days he came around to court. The two of you would spent time talking about books while going on long walks. These meetings normally took place in private. It was better than way. Now that it was known the prince was your friend lots of questions were asked. Thankfully Anarië put a stop to it, and other events took their course so that soon this matter was forgotten.

Laurelin's light covered the sky in its great golden blanket. Nearly hidden by tall grass Maitimo and yourself gazed upwards. 'My father would never, imagine!' His words had merit. Curufinwë would rather pitch a fit than subject himself to the loathsome embrace of a romance novel. 'Ridiculous things.' He would say. This came from an elf who married one bar beneath him. For Nerdanel was not of royal stock, nor was she very beautiful. At least in the conventional way. It was her mind and spirit Curufinwë fell in love with. You told Maitimo their own story was quite like a romance novel itself. The pair of you nearly laughed and imagined how Maitimo's father might make of that statement.

'Your father would be the princess.' Maitimo snorted. 'Well, he is royalty.' The statement was so ridiculous Maitimo looked ready to heave up his lunch. If someone came across the field they would hear giggling. But no one did. 'What would I be then?' He asked. Sitting up with a straight far, the replied; 'The troll'. 'Hey!' He gently pocked you in the side in well humored reproach. 'What would you be then?' Maitimo had settled back down onto the ground. 'I? Why, I would be a queen.' Being silly, you stuck your nose into the air in what you felt a very good imitation of his father. 'Oh? And why is that?' You shrugged. It seems like the best roll, so long as one it not the villain. Do you not think I would make a good queen.' 'I think you would make a rather fine one.' After that, Maitimo settled into silence. You suddenly realized he was not entirely at ease. 'Maitimo?' 'Yes?' 'Are you alright.' His cheeks turned slightly pink. 'Its my grandfather the king. He wishes me to marry.' Your own face heated up. 'To whom?' He shrugged. 'They have no one in mind. But they all seem to think that because my father and uncles married early I will to. And the woman I marry may one day be a future queen.'

For the first time a sick twist of jealousy reared up within you. Slight nausea crawled in the pits of your belly. The idea of this unchosen woman (whoever she might be in the future) sickened you. It was an ugly emotion you were not entirely familiar with. Naturally you had felt jealousy before. Only never before had it been so powerful, or painful. 'Do...do you have anyone in mind?' You dared. 'No one as of yet.' This should have made you happy. Instead you felt plunged into the depths of sadness.

King Finwë was not the only one considering Maitimo's options. Those were hard days. Everyone else seemed keen to touch on the subject, everyone expect you. While countless maidens would no doubt be disappointed when someone was finally chosen, they would move on. Maitimo was merely a fantasy they would soon forget. But he was your friend and you had the horrid feeling that when he married, you would be utterly heartbroken. At night, alone in your room, you prayed to the Valar for guidance. If only there was some remedy. To either cast off these feelings or for him to return them. You liked to imagined he loved you. Yet you were convinced that was day dreaming.

'Y/n dear, are you well?' Nerdanel was an unfamiliar person to you. Kind, but not one you have ever been well acquainted with. The two of you sat in her tea room. An invitation had been issued to you by Maitimo. Having arrived early Nerdanel graciously allowed you inside. Maitimo was still out hunting with his brothers at this time. For the past few days Maitimo's future had nearly consumed you. Yesterday there had been a rumor of Maitimo being seen with an elleth. Torment had gripped you until it was revealed to be some cousin on his mothers side, not him.

'I am very well. Last night I did not sleep so well.' Nerdanel had a way of looking at you. Like she could see far beyond. Nerdanel's silver blue eyes were so like her eldest sons. But there was a depth to them no other had. Telperion's light alone could match it. 'My son is eager to see you.' Did she know? Feeling bashful, you wondered if she could truly see things. 'As am I.' You tried a smile but it was forced. 'My son sets much by you.' You nearly collapsed right then and there. 'That is...kind of him.' Trying not to stutter, it became harder by the minute to remain composed. Perhaps she did not like you. Oh Eru that would be wretched. 'My son talks a lot about you. He said the two of you met up when Huan was loose.' This time the smile was real. 'Yes. I remember that. Maitimo was quite irate.' 'I have no doubt about that. Afterwards Maitimo quite refused to deal with Turcafinwë's antics.' You wondered if she knew of your involvement in persuading him down that particular path. 'That may be for the best. His face was red as a tomato!' Idle chatter was stopped when horses came clattering into the courtyard. Standing up, the pair of you looked out the window. Maitimo's red hair was easily spotted. Nerdanel laid a strong hand on your shoulder. 'I think, Y/n, you have little to worry about. Although it will not come about of your design, I think.'

Curufinwë looked down at you with those hard grey eyes. Before you he stood, looking at you like one gazing upon something unpleasant. You had never even exchanged words with the eldest prince, only knowing of his reputation. Crimson red hung over his figure, reminding you of those childhood tales about angry spirits. His black hair hung about him like some shroud. Hands clutched each other as you attempted to remain outwardly calm. Any moment you expected him to come flying at you shrieking like some harpy. Surrounding him were other such cold hearted elves. Only ílë had been allowed to accompany you. Even with her presence you felt utterly defenseless.

'I hear you have been around my son.' He made it sound like you were some leech, rather than his sons friend. You tried to say something, anything to defend yourself. A look of outrage crossed his face and you wanted to flee. Fainting seemed preferable. 'Have you anything to say?' Shaking your head, you considered running, pride be damned. Your silence only seemed to spur him on. 'It would seem you have taken to my son Maitimo in some way. You are often seen together, you in his wake. I wonder what you mean by it.' Finally, you spoke. 'We are simply friends.' The words were weak, pitiful. Yet Curufinwë seemed to hold no pity. 'If you are a spy, which I believe you to be, then I will seek retribution! Do not think be blind of my half-brothers machinations! A sly cunning creature you may be, but I am not to be fooled. Do not think me like some young love smittened boy. Is that what you think I am!'

This was worse than you had imagined. Tears welled up in your eyes, body shaking. An elf, looking worried, leaned over and whispered something to Cururfinwë. 'Are you bought by this display!' He turned on his companion. The elf bowed and stepped back. His companions were starting to look uncomfortable. Curufinwë did not seem to notice, or at least not care. His attention was back on you, his victim. 'The house of Nolofinwë will not be intertwined with me and mine. This foolish girl is not fit for my sons company. I will speak with my father the king and he will deal with you. Now get out!'

You fled, ílë hot on your heals. Sobs bubbled from your throat in painful gasped. Everything swam before you in the race to safety. Like a wild animal was chasing after you, you ran, not even noticing ílë calling out. Reaching your room you slammed the door shut and slid to the ground. For how long you cried one could not say. Eventually someone did knock and you stumbled to your feet. There on the threshold stood Anarië. 'Your poor girl.' She pulled you into a warm embrace. For a moment you stood there rigidly, then relaxed and cried anew. Once you were suitably calm she lead you to bed. 'Warm tea and a good nights sleep. You need not attend me tomorrow.' Someone pushed back the covers. Slipping into bed you were given a cup. A taste of mint, and you started to doze off. Soon you slipped into sleep, Anarië's thin fingers stroking your hair.

You did not witness the next days happenings. But Faniel, Varya and ílë regaled you with the details. Apparently Curufinwë had gone to the king, who agreed to your banishment. But the next morning Anarië had stormed in and brought her brother-in-law to task. There had been an uproar as the two exchanged words, none kind. Eventually the king and Nolofinwë had to break them apart. After both had pleaded their cases the king made his final decision. You would only temporarily be sent away, and not officially. It stung that you were to suffer such a punishment, but it was the best that could be done. The next day your things were packed up. Your friends and lady bid farewell. 'We will see you soon.' Promised Anarië taking your hands. Her words made you want to seep. She had been so kind. Giving a curtsey, you said; 'I thank you for your kindness.' And with one last look at the devastated look on your friends faces, you were gone.

Your parents were sympathetic. Rather than chastise you for improper conduct, they were kind. Your mother ranted about Curufinwë, saying things you did not think she would say. 'This shame is not on you, but that odious prince!' Home was much the same as it had been since both its daughters left. Cirdan was still at home. Nearly an adult, he was good at writing. His room was filled with scrolls and books. Days were spent listening to his thoughts of various writers, and what he would create next. Staying at home was not so terrible. You received plenty of letters from friends and Almiel. Old acquaintances greeted you warmly. Everything seemed well, so despite the injustice of it all you felt better.

Once the shock had worn off you now had the chance to think on your situation. Every time you remembered Curufinwë's chastisement your face burned with anger. Everyone you spoke to agreed this was badly done. If only you could tell Curufinwë yourself. One could dream. Missing your friends, it became hard to make new ones. You sent a note to each of them, this was not the end. Maitimo's letter was the hardest to write. Apologizing for all the trouble caused, you begged his pardon and offered to give space if so desired. Crying, you had sent it out with a heavy heart. Perhaps you were not wholly innocent. He was likely suffering because of your friendship. Believing this was the end you swept for days.

Some nights you slipped out of the house into the woods. Cloak obscuring your identity, the lonely figure with a broken heart wandered into its shadows. Telperion as your only light you traveled down old paths half forgotten. On your neck was a pendant bearing the insignia of Nienna. May the Lady of tears take mercy on you. All you could think of doing was waiting for things to get better.

You would go back home, where your parents absolutely forbid you from ever speaking from Maitimo again. Reluctantly you consented out of habit.

"Hello, I hope this is not an intrusion. I am here to see your daughter Y/n.' Maitimo's voice made you nearly drop the book. Hardly daring to believe it you stood up on shaking legs. Presently you were completely unprepared for visitors, much less a prince. Even if he was a friend. Grabbing a robe to throw over your evening dress, you stood there frozen in your room. A knock sounded at your door and mother pocked her head in. 'Y/n, you have a friend.' Nervously you followed her down the stairs. Standing by the entrance was Maitimo. He did not look angry, on the contrary Maitimo looked delighted to see you. 'Y/n, I hope you are well.' Coming down the steps you unconvincingly told him everything just fine. Naturally no one believed this, poor liar that you were.

Maitimo had suggested a walk, just the two of you. Likely for the best as this was not something your parents needed to witness. Walking into the woods you followed Maitimo, all the while wondering what to say. Convinced Maitimo was here to break things off you tried to remain calm. 'Do not cry.' Not that you were ever good at this. Emotional by nature you were disposed to weeping. Every step sent leaves rustling on the ground. Each time you wondered when Maitimo would speak.

'I am sorry for what my father said.' 'Its alright.' 'No it is not. I will have you know the pair of us have hardly spoken to one another since.' This did not make you feel any better. 'Please do not on my account. I would hate to be the cause of any discord within your family.' Maitimo snorted. 'If anyone had caused trouble it is my father.' 'Does he truly believe I am a spy?' Maitimo sighed. 'I hardly know the mind of my own father.' For a few more steps the pair of you walked. 'When will you come back to court. I plan to stay a while longer.' Feeling a chill you replied; 'I do not know. Your aunt may call upon me soon.' 'Happy to hear that. I miss your presence.' Did he still desire your friendship? The momentary elation was quickly quashed with the knowledge that this could not continue. He was already in enough trouble as it was. And who is to say he will continue this friendship. At the walks end you promised Maitimo your friendship, not having the bravery to indicate otherwise.

Maitimo stood before you, arms crossed. For the first time he had a frown on his face. Anarië had summoned you back to court after a short time. Thankfully Curufinwë had left with most of his family. Most except his wife and eldest son. Avoiding Maitimo you had kept to your tasks. Two weeks past in this vain, until Maitimo tracked you down. 'Sorry. Lady Anarië requires my attendants.' Eyes downcast, you tried to hold back the tears. 'Have I given a reason for offense.' Tea rattled in its cup. 'I hold nothing against you My Prince. You have given me no offense.' To your surprise Maitimo's hands touch yours. Looking up, you realized his eyes were oddly bright. You felt like dying right then and there. For the first time you felt small, something disgusting and worthless. Many time in your life you had felt lesser, but never like this. Because you could not help not having a gift. Yet you had made the decision, completely of your own free will, to hurt him. You tried to convince yourself that this was for the best. In truth you had not the heart the pursue this. With no fire burning in your soul, you could not stand up to royalty or handle a broken heart, which would solely be the outcome of all this.

'My father sees sense Y/n. We do not love each other and....and he knows that now.' Nothing could have hurt more than those words. What sin had you committed that the Valar should punish you so harshly? A tear rolled down your cheek. Immediately Maitimo pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears. While meant to be comforting it only threw you into greater turmoil. His words and touch hurt more than if he had slapped you. You knew it would come to this. Maitimo would never come to love you. And in time he would completely forget about some silly little girl who once loved him.

'I beg your pardon, My Prince. But we can no longer continue this friendship. It grieves me to hurt you so, but it is best if we part ways.' For a few moments Maitimo stares at you. There was a mixture if hurt and shock on his face that made you want to weep. For a few moments he just looked at you with those eyes. Eyes that were a mixture if blue and grey, giving them a silver look in Laurelin's light. 'Is this because of my father. For I can assure you he will do no such thing again. My aunt and the king brought him to task for it.' Any other might have felt relief at such words. But the warnings from your parents and Curufinwë overpowered your personal desires. All your life you had obeyed the commands of others. So engrained in you it was that to do elsewise was beyond you. And so you acted their decision.

'I am sorry.' Was all you could say. And you could hear his breath pick up. Avoiding his eyes you looked to the floor. Maitimo's stance suddenly changed. You felt him go ridged before saying; 'Very well. I bid you good day, My Lady.' Formally he bowed, turned on his heel. and left. Watching Maitimo go you could only think of the look in his eyes. He left you alone in that hall with only loneliness and self disgust for you inner weakness.

When your parents said you best come home it was obeyed. Anarië was sad to see you go. Faniel and Varya were sad to see you go, and ílë was nearly in tears. The room you had lived in for years was emptied of all your things. It went back to the cold room you arrived in long ago. Never did you imagine coming into Anarië's service would cause you such pain. Once this place had felt foreign, bit leaving it made you feel empty. All your friends would be torn from you. And Maitimo...oh what had you done. He was a Tirion no longer, having gone to his fathers castle. There was no farewell, no last words. You thought he hated you. And one day you would be a mere memory. He would move on and find another more worthy of his love. And you would whither away dreaming of what could have been. This state was most hateful and it had been of your own making.

It rained all the way back to home. Cold rain and strong wind battered against the carriage. Beating and raging, you felt a strange satisfaction. Unable to express your full pain in any meaningful form you liked to think the weather expressed it. From Tirion to home the pain accompanied you, and lingered longer. When you arrived on their footstep your mother pulled you in close. Weeping in her arms you did not tell her the full extent of your pain. Never before had you felt so small. Like a child you had allowed everyone to pull you where they willed. You might as well be a child for all the good that did.

You bedroom was done up. Mother had placed flowers on your night table and windowsill. The sheets smelled like lavender like all those years ago. Books suited to your tastes sat in the bookshelf, waiting for you to read them. Anyone would think this the loveliest room in all of Valinor. But as the door shut behind you, it felt like a prison.

The story might have ended there. In fact, your role in this chapter had ended. Your part was played, your use spent. Now all that was left was the actions of others more willful than yourself. There were however three who still had their part to play. In Tirion palace two women stayed up and pondered what to do. Almiel had plead with Indis that she might take a short break. Once granted she speed of the Nerdanel's castle were her eldest son currently resided. Lady Anarië pondered over Y/n's condition. She was not blind to the situation and her eldest son had told her of Maitimo's plight. So that very night she picked up her pen and wrote three letters. Almiel would see Maitimo first. She convinced him of her sisters great love for him. Shortly there after he and Nerdanel received letters. Anarië pleaded Y/n's case so effectively that Maitimo immediately set out.

One fine summers day you sat looking out a window. The market just a few blocks away brought most of the town to its stalls. You watched couples go, arm in arm and felt miserable. Worst yet, it was partly one of your own making. You wondered what Maitimo was doing now. Was he still wroth? You wondered how you might act once news would come of his marriage. That would be an evil day for you. How would you be able to bear it? You imagined walking arm in arm towards the market, in a world where you made the decisions. Your imagination was so overcoming that you could actually see him.

A tall elf with tumbling red hair was walking towards your house. At first you thought it a mere illusion before he looked up and Maitimo's eyes met yours. You could hardly believe it. What was he doing here? Remaining seated, you watched him knock on the door and your parents greet him. Soon he was on the second floor. For a moment the two of you simply stared before he walked over. Kneeling down, he took your hand in his. 'Y/n, if you would hear my case then please listen. I know there are those who would have us part, but I want you to know that is not my wish. Nor do I think it yours. So if you will have me, I swear to love and cherish you to the end of my days. But if you say no then I will press you no further. I leave the choice in your hands. Send be a letter with your answer.' He pressed a kiss to your hands, bid you goodbye, and left.

Afterwards you parents were won over. They saw what you desired and championed his and your cause. And so that night you wrote a letter.

Maitimo slide the silver band on your finger. Applause erupted throughout the great hall as hundreds who had assembled to witness the marriage of Curufinwë's eldest son, stood up. Rainbow flooded into the hall as as light came through stain glass windows. All your friends and family had come. A crown resembling daisies intertwined sat upon your head, a dress white as snow fluttering with every move. As you advanced down the stairs well wishers pilled in and it took nearly and hour to leave. The fresh morning air was a blessed relief as the pair of you walked towards the carriage. Now inside and alone, Maitimo took you by the chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. His eyes were so beautiful. Cradled close, you had never felt so loved. But there was one thing looming over you. This should have been the happiest day of your life. The day you married the elf you loved. But you knew that despite your merry state, you had hardly played a role in it.

Notes:

I want to thank everyone for being so patient in waiting for part two. It has been a few months but I want you guys to know I have not abandoned this fic. Part two was a bit difficult to write as I kept changing things about the readers backstory 😅. The next chapter will not take as long (hopefully).

I wanted this chapter the demonstrate the readers lack of autonomy in her own narrative. She makes very few decisions in her own life. It is only when others such as Almiel take action that she is able to accomplish her desires. While the reader certainly consents to the marriage others are the driving forces. In a way this links her with Maitimo's plight later on. Maitimo and his brothers follow their father with full faith in his guidance. Despite the fact they are full grown the sons seem to find it difficult to disobey Feanor. Although Maitimo does refuse to burn the ships, showing he is more likely to disobey than the rest, there is still that compulsion to follow. We will get more into Maitimo in the next chapter. After chapter 3 we will have less flashbacks.

Daisies have several different associations in various cultures however they are usually affiliated with attributes such as humility and innocents. They are a reflection of the readers current world before everything went down. This will be brought up again in later chapters.

I also want to thank everyone for your patients. The past few months have been very busy.

[meadowlarkx]

Maedhros/Maglor from chapter 9 of @jouissants' postcanon epic Strange Currencies 💫

[queerofthedagger]

love me with the lights out

[Fingon/Maedhros/Maglor | E | 5k | creator chose not to warn]

Written for Day 7 of @silmsmutweek and in collaboration with @magicinavalon who made art! <3

Tags: Porn with a little bit of Plot, Somewhat Dubious Consent, Drugged Sex, BDSM, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Angst & Smut

Summary:

"Would it help,” Maedhros starts, his tone pensive and his fingers pressing more firmly against Maglor’s jaw. “Would it help if I did not forgive you as easily? If I punished you for what you did not, could not do?” It takes a moment for Maglor to understand, Maedhros pushing images into his mind—of rope and chains and bruised skin, of pain and pleasure mingling without release. It makes him shiver, the thrill quickly followed by shame hot enough that he wants to flinch from it. --- Maglor is unable to let go of his guilt. Maedhros gets inventive about it.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Maedhros: Fingon kissed me!

Celegorm : Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Maedhros : It was unbelievable!

Maglor: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Caranthir: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Curvo, get the wine and unplug the phone. Maedhros, does this end well or do we need tissues?

Maedhros : Oh, it ended VERY well!

Maglor: Do not start without me! Do not start without me!

Celegorm : Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing?

Maedhros: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it.

Curufin: Ohh... So, okay, was he holding you? Or were his hands on your back?

Maedhros : First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair!

Everyone: tell us more, more!

*meanwhile*

Fingon: And, uh, and then I kissed him.

Aredhel: Tongue?

Fingon: Yep.

Aredhel: Cool.

[runawaymun]

Do u ship russingon ♥️💙

height difference & doomed romance make brain go brr hope this helps 💙

[lovefairymina]

*Sneaks behind mae* boo

Maedhros didn’t flinch, but a slow, amused smile crept onto his face as he turned to look over his shoulder. "Nice try, my sneaky little shadow," he murmured lowly and teasingly.

[carmisse]

Of the reunion of Russingon and Erenion.

Fingon : Oh Yonia, while we're glad you're here, we didn't expect to see you so soon. Come on, tell us about what we missed.

Maedhros : Finno, please don't overwhelm Erenion.

Fingon : Russo, I need to know how our baby has been, we have missed important moments in his life, love; I want to know everything, maybe even maybe he has found love too.

Fingon : Although your Atar may be right too, my apologies darling, I'm just very excited to see you.

Gil-Galad, quite nervous to see his parents again : I married a Sindar elf, we didn't like each other at first but damn, at some point we fell in love, got married and had a child eventually.

Gil-Galad : He is the most beautiful, and adorable child I have ever met, he is all the best of me and his ada.

Maedhros and Fingon : ...

Maedhros : Congratulations Yonia; We're really happy for you.

Fingon : Oh Eru! Nelyo, we are grandparents!

[arofili]

make you mine (make me yours)

Threatened with an arranged marriage he does not want, Maitimo takes matters into his own hands - and Findekáno’s.

I'm back, with a Russingon fic for @thatfeanorian <3

Rating: E | No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon Characters: Fingon, trans!Maedhros, Fëanor, Finwë Word count: 1.4k for chapter 1

READ IT ON AO3!

[lordgrimwing]

Findekáno's Tattoo

This was a part of Alqualondë that Findekáno had never been to before. 

Really, he could say that about most of the Telerin city. He and his siblings and cousins were mostly interested in enjoying the beach when they ventured down from Tirion. They’d been to Olwë’s house (not really much of a palace, certainly nothing like Grandfather Finwë’s home) a couple times, too, what with Uncle Arafinwë marrying his daughter. But as a whole, Findekáno  felt half lost as he searched for the shop he was looking for.

He’d gotten the name of the shop from an elf in Tirion who specialized in adorning the body. A common enough craft among the Noldor, though his parents would have objected to their son utilizing her services, given her reputation. He agreed with them on that, though more because she was bound to know about the family drama than because she was too liberal with her needle and ink.

No, no. For this he had to find an outsider, and Mórowen of the Teleri came well recommended.

Or, at least, recommended.

Findekáno stopped to squint at a driftwood sign polished nearly blank by the combination of saltwater spray and the fine sand carried by the wind and foot traffic all over the city. This looked like the shop he’d been directed to. The only way to know was to go inside and face whatever awaited.

Pushing aside the strings of seashells decorating the entrance, he stepped into the small shop.

“In a minute.” The sharp words came from a black-hair elf, uncommon for a Teleri, hunched over a low table.

“Mhph,” the elf laying face-down on the table said as Mórowen tapped her tattooing comb into their back.

Embarrassed (and more than a little flustered at seeing someone half naked), Findekáno ducked back into the street to wait.

Well over a minute passed before the Teleri, still indecently underdressed, walked out, accompanied by a taller elf he hadn’t noticed. The freshly tattooed patron offered the waiting prince a casual greeting gesture that broke off with a wince. The bigger elf laughed and then they were gone.

He hesitated at the lintel. Did he really want to do this?

“Come, come,” Mórowen said. “Don’t block the light.”

“Hello.” He tried to calm his nerves as he stepped into the tiny shop, more of a shack compared to what he was used to. “I heard you craft adornments for the skin?”

She snorted. “If your clothes or face were not enough, I’d know you're a Noldo now. Yes, I do.”

He stumbled over his tongue. The last time he’d been this embarrassed had to be when he slipped at the feast and landed in Maitimo’s lap, spilling wine all over both of them. Their fathers saw the whole thing and Maitimo quickly excused himself and fled.

“Sit down.” Mórowen pointed at a three-legged stool next to the table. “What do you want?”

It wobbled dangerously under him. “I-” there was no going back now, he’d come all this way and he’d see this through. “I’d like a tattoo.”

“And every fisher wants Ossë to not break their nets. Do you know what you want?”

He had the sudden urge to hide his hands behind him. The way her eyes flicked up and down made him feel like she was picking which spot of exposed skin to set her au to first. His answer came out in a rush.  “A name.”

She sat back on her work stool, tapping one finger on the table. “A name?” Her eyebrows rose. 

He wasn’t sure if it was mocking. He thought it could be. “Yes. Maitimo.” 

From a pocket, he pulled a scrap of linen paper. He’d drawn the name out to look exactly the way he wanted, with extra flourishes. He stopped short of including hearts, but he’d wanted to.

Mórowen took the paper and inspected his work. “Maitimo,” she repeated and then read out each tangwa and ómatehta. “You want it to look like this?”

“Yes,” he insisted, defensive. 

She shrugged. “Where?

“My side.” He’d thought for a long time about that. The tattoo had to go somewhere he would never casually reveal. “Just above my hip.”

“You’ll have to pull your shirt up,” she said it like she expected him to run out in a panic at the notion.

“Okay. Can we start now?”

She nodded. “I have time.”

In the course of a minute, Findekáno found himself lying on his side on the surprisingly comfortable table, his shirt bunched up under his arm and his pants pushed low on his hips. Mórowen’s hands were surprisingly warm against his skin but he couldn’t help flinching nervously with every foreign touch.

“Maitimo, Maitimo,” she murmured as she put ink to her comb. She paused with the comb’s teeth almost touching him.  

He bit his lip and closed his eyes, bracing.

“Maitimo,” she repeated. “Isn’t he your cousin?”

Findekáno froze. “Half-cousin.”

“Aren’t your fathers feuding?”

Why was this Teleri, of all Teleri, reasonably informed on Noldorin politics? He thought they all had little interest in what happened beyond the shore. What would he have to do to convince her to forget about the whole thing and never speak a word of this to anyone? Father would be livid if he found out, and Maitimo might get in trouble too if Fëanáro heard about it.

“Eh, but perhaps I am mistaken,” she said and tapped the needles into his skin.

By the time Mórowen put her comb away and wiped his skin with a damp rag, Findekáno was almost regretting the whole thing. He wasn’t sure he could make the hike back up the mountain without his side tearing open. Even breathing made it hurt.

“Wash with cool water three times between minglings and pat it dry with rabbit fur.”

“Why?” He couldn’t imagine touching anywhere near the tattoo for at least a year.

She laughed. “You’ll know why if you don’t listen.”

“Now,” she hummed, helping him adjust his clothes so they fit right, “when your Maitimo is ready, send him to me for the other half.”

And with that, she bundled him out of her shop.

He stood in the street, sand accumulating inside his sandals again. He was not looking forward to the walk home. Maybe he could find someone in the market who would be driving a wagon back to Tirion and he could ride with them.

Already yearning for sleep, Findekáno set off toward the sounds of people arguing over prices and the good-natured conversations that seemed to be the hallmark of markets everywhere. He couldn’t resist tracing a finger over the name permanently inked into his skin as he went.

[maedhrosiseverything2me]

Y/N comparing her small hand with Maedhros big hand(the left one obviously) and giggling.

Maedhros:

Maedhros: Marry me please.

[witchofhimring]

To you who is lost

Chapter 1: Duty is the death of love

Chapter synopsis: Your husband leaves for despair and death. Left behinde, you are left at the mercy of others.

Warnings: Angst, abandonment, crying, pregnancy

Note: Usually I save notes for the end but this time I will also put some at the beginning. I am using their Quenya names (ex. Maedhros is called Maitimo).

Emmeril, Airin and llë are my OC's

You would lament thereafter for the lack of foresight. The wise in Arda would mourn their kindred, who had stepped out of bliss and into woe. Nerdanel, Amarië, Anairë, these great women of the Blessed Realm were linked in sorrow to those left behind. You joined this tragic assembly, united in regret. Days would waste away as you asked " What was there to be done?". Anguishing over every time you could have forestalled these harrowing events.

It had been a storm, slowly strengthening until its power was too great to prevail. Deceived, one and all had been taken in. Melkor's repentance had seemed so genuine. Save Tulkas and Curufinwe none had heeded any notion of trickery. Now the dark Vala's laughter rang in Angamando, echoing off the stone walls. In your own halls, you sighed. Brought so low you were a specter of the beautiful young elf maiden whose laughter had lit up Tirion. These days were dark with the Alduya felled.

"Will you come to bed?" Amarië, whose suffering was as great as yours, came forward. Together they cast their gazes to the darkness beyond. All of Arda had been plunged into an impenetrable shadow. Amarië's light was much dimmed, her golden hair hanging forlornly. She had always been pale and thin but her boundless joy had given her strength which many envied. They need envy no longer. Findaráto had sworn to return and Amarië held him to it. She was bound to him, although not formally, and believed he would return. For a time Amarië would remain before departing. She would dwell in her home and wait for Findaráto.

You had been gifted no such reassurance. Cast off, Maitimo had spurned every vow he made. Bitter words were exchanged, things that could not be unsaid. Unlike Amarië's stalwart serenity, you had wept. Your marriage had been waning for some time now. When Curufinwe stormed into exile you followed to Formenos. In Formenos you would lose your husband.

The laws of the Eldar commanded that husband and wife be one in all things. Never had you any cause to doubt these customs. Naturally, a husband and wife must cleave together. Growing up in a big, tightly-knit family, a certain worldview had been formed. There was never any doubt that if you married your husband would always protect you. And how could you not? Your father had always been so devoted to your mother, his desire to make her happy endless.

Your worldview had been, to a degree, changed when you married Maitimo. The house of Finwe had been in turmoil for quite some time. Since Finwe cemented his union Indis despite the protests of his son Feanaro, his progeny had torn at one another. Though to Nolofinwe's credit, the war was pitifully one-sided. Even those who had never encountered either prince heard of the brotherly animosity. A pungent cloud of this great house, many feared for the day a storm would break. Coming from a close family this was something of an anomaly. Your father had quarreled with his brothers, but nothing could sunder their bond. Your mother had her gripes with her sisters, but their love always brought them together again. Being the eldest of your family you had the unenviable job of keeping rambunctious youngers siblings in line. However no matter what troubles came your, love and affection remained. Perhaps this made the end inevitable.

You begged him not to leave that day. The death of High King Finwë plunged all of Arda into grief. Sickening amounts of blood were saturated into the ground. From there after that very spot was stained by Melkor's vile deed. The smell sent your head reeling and burning bile to bubble. You had never seen a dead body before and abhorred the slaughter of animals. They might think you weak for it, but you knew this sight would curdle the blood of even the most austere of elves. Wails of despair took the place of joy. The light had faded and everything became dark. If only it had stopped there, oh by Eru how you wished this was the worst.

It all started on a day filled with joy. Manwë had summoned the Houses Fingolfin and Curufinwë, ordering peace between the two families. Brother took brother in hand and promised peace and friendship. Though how sincere Curufinwë was remained unknown. Many times you had witnessed Curufinwë rage over his younger brother. He howled over the "spawn of Indis" and cursed him. Such festering resentment could not be swept aside by simple sweet words. "I know we should be glad. But I can not help feeling dread." Maitimo simply took your hand in his. "I assure you that nothing bad will happen." His smile reassured you. Oh how wrong he was. When the darkness fell confusion and fear reigned. Finwë was dead, the Silmarills stolen and half of the Edain of Valinor gone. The only respite was Arafinwë returning to take leadership.

All the lights went out. Melkor had drained the trees of all their light, and from there he fled. But there was no running from the darkness. Warmth and light were replaced by darkness and dread. Wails of the bereft took the place of laughter. You who had once been so full of joy had only despair for company. Things had been far from perfect even before the oath. When Curufinwë had been exiled your husband went with him. Of course, you understood his duty as the eldest son. But it didn't make the move from Tirion to Formenos. That day you had to leave behind all those you loved. Try as you might to sway Maitimo to stay, it worked to no avail. In those days you would have done anything for him, and so where he went you followed. You tried not to complain. Even when Curufinwë's temper became unbearable, or your friends stopped sending letters. You could not blame them, living in the court of temporary King Nolofinwë and keeping in touch with you was risky. At least your family was supportive. Your younger sisters and brothers But even in those cold days you still would never have thought Maitimo would leave you. The years had been trying, but he still cared for you in those days. Years later in the dead of night, as you lay awake, you wondered if every "I love you" had been a lie.

"Please, if you have ever loved me you would stay." He did not meet your eyes. He just looked back to the army assembling in the courtyard below. "Have I not followed you all these years? What could I have done for you to cast me aside!" You seized his arm. Gently he pried you off him. "Y/n, you must understand that I have to go. Of course you may follow me-" "I have done nothing but follow you! Maitimo this is suicide!" It was at this point your father in law chose to appear, ascending the steps in a storm of fury. "If you do not choose to follow your husband, as you are sworn to do, then you are no wife!" Temperamental, yes, but now there was the flame of madness dancing in his eyes. Curufinwë had taken leave of his senses. "My vows said that I would follow him as my conscious dictates! As your wife has stayed in Valinor so shall I." The comment was poorly timed. Anger beat so furiously in your chest that you thought not of the consequences. With a roar of unbridled fury, Curufinwë drew his sword. Horrified, both you and Maitimo stepped back. The tip was right at your neck, an inch further would slice the flesh. "Depart, faithless wretch! And do not let me find you lurking in these hall again lest I strike you dead!" Maitimo drew you away and behind him. "You will cease your insults of my wife." You stared up at him in awe. Here he was standing up to his father, possibly the greatest of the Noldor. You had thought at that moment Maitimo had seen sense. He led you off to a room, away from his father and the chaos below.

"Maitimo!" You flung your arms around his shoulders. An elated kiss was placed on his forehead. But his eyes were sad with what you later realized was guilt. Gently he pried you off of him. He was gentle but his actions indicated he wanted to put distance between you and himself. "Do-?" You were unable to finish. Maitimo closed his eyes and whispered something so quietly under his breath you almost missed it. Almost. "Please." "Maitimo?" Your temporary relief was dashed as quickly as it came. "Y/n, I must follow my father." One could hear a pin drop. Your world had been torn apart, fractured almost beyond repair. "My Lord-Maitimo! You must not!" Your body was shaking, horror gripping you like a vice. Your legs seemed unable to hold themselves, such was the agony you felt at that moment. Falling to your knees, you started to beg.

"Husband, if you have any love for me then-" Suddenly Maitimo's could not even meet your eye. "You will not sway me Y/n." His voice was hard, cold, a tone he had recently adopted and that reared its head more and more frequently. You could not believe what you were hearing. Your husband seemed to disregard the bond between man and wife, that they must always stay side by side. And here he was abandoning you at your hour of need. You were scared. Finwë was dead and the rest were in self imposed-exile. The journey ahead scared you. To leave the safe haven of Valinor was suicide. You could understand avenging the King, you had great love and respect for him. And as King he must be avenged. But this was beyond simple revenge. This very act would tear apart the house of Finwë, and all of Valinor. Your family. Curufinwë's heart had turned dark and following him to this end. And there was another, more overriding reason. A shaking hand went to your stomach.

It could be a lie to say that everything had been perfect before the darkening. Hard to admit, but your presence in the family was not welcomed by everyone. Curufinwë and his son who shared the same name looked upon you with disdain. You were to head-in-the-clouds for them to ever like. You tried, only to end in ridicule and failure. The escalation was partly your fault, afraid of causing trouble Maitimo was never told. Looking back, telling Maitimo might have been wiser. Alas, you did not. This was not to say the rest were unkind. Never had there been a great closeness between Tyelkormo, Carinstir and yourself, there was also never ill blood either. Though you were better acquainted with the latter's wife, Ilë. Macalaurë had always been kind but rather unapproachable, him being so proud. You supposed that was what Emmeril liked about him. The twins you were the closest to, out of the lot, Telvo and Pityo. His cousins hailing from the house of Nolofinwë you held a greater preference for. Save Turokáno who thought you rather silly.

There lay a great enmity between the houses Curufinwë and Nolofinwë. Or rather, Curufinwë held a deep mistrust and dislike of his younger brother. The ill sentiment had spread like a poison to all his kin, even the children. During the exile in Formenos you were forced to meet Findecáno and his younger sister, at times with Arakáno. Those years had been hard, especially for those such as Turkafinwë and Maitimo who forged deep bonds with their kin. Curufinwë the younger missed Írissë, despite his attempts to hide it. Those years in Formenos had been horribly lonely, bereft of company. With a family far away and friends forced to stay in Tirion company was limited. Only two friends had accompanied you. But denied company they soon started to despair. Despite what it cost you have them leave. Many tears had been shed that day. The resentment between the various members of Curufinwë started to devour the residents. Anger brewed, bitterness ensued.

"And Indis's brood wander those halls, our halls! What right... what claim does the House of Indis have to my father's throne! The throne of my forefathers!" Around Curufinwë's table everyone sat, save Ilë who pleaded exhaustion. The rest of you were not spared Curufinwë's rage. Sitting next to Maitimo your hands shook, his hand on your knee. The twins sat closest to their father, though Telufinwë not leaning in as close. Turkafinwë's seemed unusually thoughtful, for such a brash elf. Curufinwë the younger's face was obscured from shadow, his silent wife beside him. Morifinwë was leaning in towards Curufinwë with a red flush crawling up his face. Kanafinwë and Emmeril sat on the sidelines, observers of Curufinwë's rant. You would give anything to leave this table.

"What of our Uncle Arafinwë?" Maitimo was far too fond of his half-uncles for Curufinwë's liking. You could see his thin pale lips tighten. His dark blue eyes, bloodshot, narrowed in on Maitimo. "He is his mother's son." Curufinwë's stance was clear. Your thoughts went to Amarië who you had not seen in years. Last you heard Findaráto had pledged to marry her. Wondering if Curufinwë would allow you to attend their wedding, you looked outside. Formenos was cut off from the rest of Valinor. Held up in these mountains it was hard to see anything else. It only served to make you feel more nervous.

"Though, I do wonder if not everyone is paying attention." Curufinwë's tone made it seem he was scolding a child. Except it was you. "My apologies." Quickly covering your mistake, you sat there rigidly. "My wife meant no offense." Maitimo was swift to defend. Curufinwë looked ready to say more but chose to abstain. All you could do was stare at your lap, numb with anxiety.

Maitimo had changed. The bleakness and chill of Formenos had worn on everyone. Exhaustion had settled over the residents like a heavyweight. Loneliness became a constant companion, stalking you like a specter. In the beginning, it was not so bad. You spent time making this place a home. A small garden was built in the courtyard with help from Maitimo. Carefully you tended to the delicate petals, their white petals reflecting light. He would wind them in your hair, cascading down in a waterfall of flowers. They spent much of their time holed up inside their room. It became a safe haven, a world that separated themselves from all the torments outside. Light blue curtains adorned the windows, you had elected for a more simple style. Windows were left open a crack letting fresh air in. At times like these you could forget about everything.

The years passed and the bond between husband and wife started to crumble. A great toll was upheaving this family. Twelve years was but the link of an eyes to elves. For this family however, it dragged on. Every moment served to increase Curufinwë's rage and desire to avenge himself burned within. Like a disease it spread, its symptoms laying low the spirits of his heirs. Maitimo became sullen and the fire within seemed to flicker. The letters hailing from Tirion, where his beloved cousin Findecáno resided, remained unopened for days. When Maitimo finally did dare to gaze upon the contents they were for him only. Afterwards Maitimo would grow sullen once more and would disappear. Behind his back, although it brought guilt, you read its contents. It was the words of a cousin who missed his friend. He talked of times past and expressed joy in those to come. "I hope for further joy, so that all ill will become forgotten." He had written. Letters arrived from your sister as well. Airin was the closest in age to you, being only a few years your junior. Residing in the court of Anairë, Airin would provide information. King Nolofinwë ruled wisely and was much loved. Such tidings brought you no joy. Eru knew what Curufinwë might say. She was not the only one to bring information, Findecáno wrote to you as well, with affection that did little to curb a growing fear. He wished you well, that the days bring peace, but those words soothed not. There lingered an underlying anxiety to his words. Try as he might to cover it up.

"My dear daughter, we are well. But it would truly warm our hearts to know you too are well. Do not forget that all of us (yes, all of us) miss you dreadfully" Those letters remained in a safe wooden box. Sometimes you would read them when lonely. Even your brothers, who were a great many years younger, had written. Sadly, letters were no substitute for true company. Ilë, wife of Carnistir, was a good friend. But as time dragged on Ilë retreated and clung to her husband. Less and less she patrolled the halls, staying with her husband in solitude. Making friends with the other elf maidens, there was still a poignant loneliness. All they did was remind you of those left behind.

"It is merely your father's words, my love. Your uncle would never harm any of us." Your husband's anguish hurt you in turn. As a wife it was agonizing to know his pain and yet have no balm to heal the wound. Another one of Findecáno's letters lay forlornly on the bedside. Instead of bringing joy they served to torment. Maitimo was slumped against his chair by the windows. His bright blue eyes were focused on the mountains beyond. You stood beside him, fingers running through his red hair. For a while you said nothing. Gently you stroked his cheek which was unusually sallow. Leaning forward you kissed the cheek. Slightly, he leaned into your affection. "I know you will do what is right." Had those words strengthened him, or heaped on yet greater pressure onto Maitimo.

Everything changed when that great host left Valinor. You were left alone and exposed with no one to protect you. Everyone was either gone or wanted nothing to do with you. Maitimo had ordered those of his followers who stayed behind to protect you. But would they be able to? And could you, in good conscience, place those who were under your care into great danger? Thank Eru Arafinwë took pity on your condition. You had been barricaded in Formenos for fear when the youngest son of Finwë and his host came upon the fortress. To your surprise, he brought along Indis and Nerdanel. Despite your disgrace, they brought you with them to Tirion.

You sat on a bench with an outlook to the garden below. Despite its glamorous beauty, it brought you no joy. There was no light for the Two Trees had been utterly drained. It felt like divine providence, the trees set and your love as gone. Now it was dark as the hole in your heart. "Y/n, dear, you should no linger in the cold for so long. "Nerdanel stepped out onto the outlook. " Is it dinner already?" You drew your cloak tighter around yourself. Instinctively your hands cradled your ever expanding belly. "Yes. And Indis has prepared your favourite." At one times these temptations would have been rather tempting. But no food could fill you. Not now. "If not yourself then at least for him." "You are so certain?" Coming from Nerdanel the Wise the idea she might already know was not preposterous. Relenting, you got up. The baby was all you had left.

"And are we to forget that this woman chose to go into exile, against all common sense and decency." It was as you expected. Even with the new Lord of the Noldor beside you. It was Arafinwë's first council as leader (would that make him King now?) in the great halls. You remembered that last time you had been here. How Curufinwë unsheathed his sword and pointed it at his own brother. You recalled the horror and revulsion on the audience's face, and now all their eyes were on you. Every important lord and lady of Valinor were judging you. It hurt to know that some of them had once been your friends. Perhaps everything had been a lie. Your husband despised you and the rest of Valinor bore mistrusted.

"You forget, My Lord, that as a Princess and member of her lord husband's household, she was bound to follow him to whatever ends. It was only when it all became too much did Y/n depart from her husband. Her moral convictions won out, and despite their fëas being one she forsook him." Arafinwe's voice held a steely edge you had not yet heard before. The youngest son of Finwë was often misconceived as being shy, timid even. This was a misconception, he was simply quiet. Never should one misconstrue kindness for complacency. But one should never be complacent with the belief that silence means stupidity. Arafinwë stood up, white robes billowing behind him. You felt Nerdanel place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Have we fallen so far that we would attack a lonely woman? If we are to proceed with revenge in this matter, are we truly worthy to live amongst the Vala and Maia?' Some had the grace to look ashamed. Despite this, there were still some who had misgivings.

"My Lord, if I may speak." Lady Nimlothel served the house of Nolofinwë, more specifically it was his Lady wife she owed her allegiance to. With an elegant stride, she took the floor. "You may." Arafinwë answered, although his eyes looked wary. "The Lady Y/n is not responsible for her husband's ill deeds. Although I would like to add that Lady Nerdanel never fled into exile, a most wise decision. I suggest that the Lady Y/n retire, at least for a time. It would be unwise to allow such a remnant of Curufinwë's treachery to remain here." You felt so cold, so alone. They might not lock you up, but exile was little better. You would hide away, a forgotten remnant in a far off castle. An embarrassing chapter of Arda's history. Arafinwë sat down, troubled. "This council is dismissed. We shall convey at morning tomorrow."

"We may reside by my parent's hearth. They extend this offer to you too." Emmeril had bolted the chest shut. Sitting on a bed you watched Makalaurë's wife hastening departure. She along with Airin, wife of Curufinwë the Younger (your husband's brother) remained in Valinor. Ilë alone had departed, swearing to follow her husband Morifinwë, to whatever end. You prayed to Eru she would be well. Airin had long since departed. Saddened over the loss of husband and son she departed, destination unknown.

"My Lady, is that all?" One of Emmeril's handmaidens entered. "Take these out to the yard, then we depart." Once the handmaiden departed Emmeril turned to you. "What do you hope to accomplish by staying?" The bond between Emmeril and yourself had never been great. It was not personal dislike so much as never truly understanding one another. Emmeril was stern and hard, chafing against your soft and easy nature. But she had never been cruel or given you reason for mistrust. Emmeril's reasoning was wise in this matter. Leaving Tirion could allow you to start anew. You might have done so if it were not for the babe that dwelt within you. What sort of life would your child have? A permanent exile for the rest of their days? Could you even call yourself a mother while condemning a child to such a fate? Emmeril may think you a fool, and perhaps she was right to think so. But you would not reveal this secret to her. Now was not the time and frankly you were not ready.

Emmeril did not stay long, but departed for her family's home. You watched her go until the last of her horses were over the hill. The room suddenly felt colder, more forlorn. A choked sigh bordering on sobs left your mouth. At times like these you would have walked in the garden with Ilë. Only it was pitch black out and Ilë was gone. A soft knock at your door alerted you. Amarië swept in, pink silk trailing behind. "Y/n, Nerdanel wishes to give council." Rising up you followed Amarië. The hallway was obscured with shadows, torches providing ailing light. Even with windows barred shut you could still feel a draft. Even Amarië seemed to feel it, drawing her robe tighter. Every step echoed in these silent halls. Most had either fled Tirion or barricaded themselves in their rooms. Only guards remained patrolling the halls.

Nerdanel had taken quarters next to Queen Indis. Was Indis even still queen? Suspiciously guards regarded your presence. "Lady Nerdanel had sent for Lady Y/n. Queen Indis is aware." They let you in with a look of reluctance on their faces. The swords on their sides glimmered in the torchlight. Only a short time ago none dared to disregard the Valar's ordinance. Now none dared leave their rooms without protection. Such were these sad times. Nerdanel bore her usual attire, baggy brown pants and a white shirt. Her hair, Nerdanel had her back turn to you, was tied in a loose braid. Rubble and tools lay scattered. When Amarië cleared her throat Nerdanel seemed to finally take notice. "Lady Amarië, thank you." Amarië curtsied and made to leave. "Hold-" "I must depart. Lady Nerdanel wishes to speak to you in private." Now it was just Nerdanel and you. Nerdanel lightly kicked a hammer out of the way and picked up a tray. You smelt citrus and a hint of cinnamon. Sitting down you watched Nerdanel pour a cup of tea. "Care for some?" You nodded. You had the feeling this conversation was not simple idle chat.

Nerdanel did not beat around the bush. After a sip, her grey eyes focused on you. The look was not critical, but the one she adopted when an important topic was at hand. "I heard Emmeril offered you a place at her family home. Why did you not go?" She was not being critical, just inquiring. "I have never been close to Emmeril. It would be an intrusion on my part." Nerdanel poured another cup. "Will you remain here indefinitely?" "Nerdanel I do not know what to do. I am lost. In leaving I condemn myself and the baby to exile. In staying ill may come too, for those that support the Houses of Nolofinwë and Arafinwë have no love of Curufinwë's kin." Nerdanel reached out calloused hands, worn by years of her craft. Your own was not so smooth, for years of gardening had hardened the skin. "Fate may be kinder to you. Our king wishes to provide what help he can." The attempt was well made, yet still you remained unsettled. "My fate is solely in the hands of others. If I stay then it is another exile. I banish my freedom. Perhaps I should leave and lessen others' hold on me." Nerdanel's gaze went to your belly. If one was unaware they would not know. But soon it would swell and then what would happen then? Your family would be harboring a potential heir. Arafinwë was good and wise, but the actions others you must look to. Would they see the baby as a contender? If you stayed at court then an alliance could be built and no one could accuse you of hiding.

"Do what you think is best for yourself and the baby Y/n. But do not forget, make sure you stand on your own feet."

Note: This story has been in my drafts since September and was originally meant to be a one shot. A story surrounding the lives of those who stayed in Valinor is something I have been interested in for a while now. I am unsure how long this story will be. I will also be using the Quenya pronunciation for everyone's names unless canonically one is not provided. All the sons of Feanor use their mother-name except for Curufin.

While I use Jodie Comers face in the gifs and aesthetics for this story it is not meant to be a face claim. I simply like to use a certain character/acter's face in each series.

My OC's (the unnamed wives of the sons of Feanor) are my stand ins for the wives in every fanfic going forward. This is unless I write an x-reader involving one of the three married sons. In that case I will simply write them out. But going forward in this story and others they will exist. I intend to make character profiles for them at some point.

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