#maia oc

[jewel-pixelheart]

Elmyr and Mairon

A very simple drawing of Elmyr and Mairon during The Days Before :

If you want to see more content about Elmyr/Alruna: click here

I should draw them more. I mean, they were so happy at the time ♡

Also, I'm kinda happy of how Mairon turn out. I'm still searching for a design for him (at least, his "original form" if we can call it this way?)

But, yeah, I think he looks nice this way.

What do you think?

Do not copy, retrace or use my art without my consent !

[blue-istari-stars-of-the-south]

Commission of my Tolkien OC Manó, Maia of Mandos and one of the Blue Istari done for me by:

[cilil]

𝓞𝓒 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷:

ִֶָ࣪☾. Írilómë ~ the illusive and impenitent incubus ~

So I've featured Írilómë in a few ficlets before, but neglected to introduce him so far. Until I throw together a full doc, here's a summary of his character and story. Enjoy!

☾ In the beginning, Írilómë was a Maia of Irmo, concerned with the domain of desire rather than dreams or visions. From his lord, he learned much about the hearts and minds of those around him and the desires hidden within and found great joy and pleasure in exploration of and shameless indulgence in such matters.

☾ Closest to him was always his twin sister Írima who served Estë and was also concerned with matters of the heart... though in a more physical sense.

☾ What many don't know is that the twins have another brother, Airilin, youngest among them and a Maia of Ulmo, but they have never grown close to him and became estranged, leading him down his own dark paths.

☾ Around that time, Írilómë appeared as a beautiful young man of great, lithe statue, with purple hair, pink eyes and a silvery sheen to his skin, as he has always preferred the gentler, softer lights of Illuin and later Telperion and the moon and would often sleep during the day. However, he was ever swift to adjust his shape to appear beautiful to whoever he desired at the moment.

☾ It was rare for Írilómë to feel greater or more permanent attraction to anyone, particularly on the romantic or emotional side. When he found himself not understanding the courtship preferences of his peers, Irmo explained to him that there is no shame in not feeling romantic attraction to anyone, but that he must always be mindful, respect the partners he chooses and not close his heart to any feelings that may come in the future, but never have to.

☾ In time, it came to pass that Írilómë found Tilion as he rested and slept in Irmo's gardens and desired him, more than he had ever wanted anyone before. He approached him and set out to charm him, yet for the first time in his life was rejected; for Tilion already loved Arien and told him that his love can only ever belong to one at a time. Out of love for him, Írilómë was thereafter often seen growing a pair of silver horns on his brow.

☾ However, he didn't understand what Tilion meant, never having felt that way himself, and he thought him a fool for pursuing someone who didn't love him back and rejecting another who would have him. When he brought this matter up with Irmo, however, his lord warned him that he had to respect Tilion's choices, no matter what he thought of them.

☾ Dissatisfied with the advice he had been given and unable to comprehend how anyone could resist his charms in favor of another, Írilómë shared his frustration with his twin and found that she had encountered Melkor as he sought out servants of other Valar for his cause. Írima, too, had gotten into trouble with her lady, as Estë forbade her from conducting any experiments on the Children that would awaken soon.

☾ Thus the twins turned to Melkor instead and he gave them the answers they wanted to hear, promising Írima that, in his service, she would not be restricted by silly morals and concerns and Írilómë to teach him how to seduce anyone he wanted.

☾ What Melkor taught him was deception and coercion, but Írilómë had always been a fickle and impulsive creature, viewing the wills of others more as a challenge than a boundary, and was happy to mess with their minds as he pleased.

☾ However, his treachery was soon discovered by Irmo when he caught Írilómë invading Tilion's dreams whenever he came to his gardens and he was shocked and upset that one of his beloved Maiar had preyed on another while they were vulnerable. Even though he wished to correct Írilómë's mistakes and help him, he felt as though it was too severe a transgression to allow him to roam his domain any longer and he was angered by what had happened, so he banished him instead.

☾ Írima joined Írilómë when he left and together they joined Melkor who welcomed them among his Maiar and used their talents to assist the others as well as prey on the Children once they awoke. Írilómë was responsible for many that went missing without a trace, luring them away from their peers and bringing them to his new master.

☾ He was, however, still not over his failure to seduce Tilion and developed an obsession, seeking to study the mysteries of love, the bonds it formed and how they could be twisted and broken. His particular area of interest was what the people of Middle-earth referred to as soulmates, wondering if desire could overcome destiny, and he was ever in search of such pairs to study and mess with them.

☾ It was at this time that Írilómë's eyes turned from soft pink to a bloody red and his silver horns darkened, but he kept his original fána and, as he had always done, shifted mostly to please and seduce his targets.

☾ He stayed loyal to Melkor throughout all the wars, fearing Irmo's wrath if he returned to Valinor, and remained in Middle-earth together with Írima after his lord's final fall. Legends of dangerous incubi and succubi who visit people in their sleep and drain them of their energy can be traced back to the deeds of Írilómë over the ages and he still wanders this world, sometimes hunting, sometimes standing still to watch the moon.

 ˚ ੈ✧̣̇·˖ 　˚ .　　　✶ ˚　　✦　. 　 ˚　.　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　.  ˚　

☽ Etymology: Írilómë means "beautiful twilight"

☽ Post-canon: It may be that, as ages pass, Irmo feels that he bears responsibility for Írilómë's crimes and seeks him out himself, wishing to mend the rift between them and bring him back to the right path. If so, he may be asked by Estë and Ulmo to search for Írima and Airilin as well.

☽ Ships: Aside from unrequited Írilómë/Tilion, his current main ship for post-canon verse is Amarëa (@urwendii's OC, daughter of Mairon and Arien, who by that time has grown into a beautiful and sassy Maia lady who takes no nonsense from an Úmaia like him).

I'm open to shipping him with other OCs as well :) (he's great for one night stands lol)

☽ About Írima: She is not mine, she belongs to my dear friend @edensrose who kindly allowed me to feature her in Írilómë-related writings💕

[eunoiaastralwings]

So I know y'all going to choose Cala – and therefore he is NOT in this poll

Yes yes – am evil

I don't care 😈😈😈

With that being said:

Secret other option : you're mad I didn't put Cala here 😭😂

[silmarillion-dnd]

Rochir:

Masterlist

Rochir is a noun that means both knight and horse lord in Sindarin and it is the name of the Maia you can find in the woods of Núath, a forest in the north of Beleriand, where they call themself lord. They are a friendly enough Maia as long as you don´t attack them or are rude. If you befriend them, which doesn´t take a lot only feed their ego and keep them company, they´re lonely, they will travel with you and let you ride them.

Rochir is a former Maia of Orome of about the same power as Huan so he only has the form of a horse. They used to spend a lot of their time on the shores so they somehow got Manwe´s blessing and have the most power when it´s storming. Sometimes they will make it rain or thunder for fun.

If you ask them to wait for you they will become a bit angry but the only consequence will be to have to hear them complain about it for some time, also if you ask them why they left Orome or how they got Manwe´s blessing or anything about their name they will either not answer or get angry.

As with any other Maia they are territorial so it would make sense to make your champ at Núath, at least for some time. They can also sense other Ainur, no matter the size, although if the Ainur is powerful enough and doesn´t want to be known Rochir will only know they are close, not where they are, but that also means they can help you find magical items.

They don´t need to eat but do enjoy some fresh meat and sugar cubes at times.

You can find a special tack for them somewhere in their forest with protection spells on it and a few other things such as healing potions and some weapons.

Rochir can only reach level 5 since they are a lesser Maia.

Pros;

Rochir is faster than any other steed you can find and will help you in battle if you ask them to, you can also call on them even if they didn´t travel with you and they will teleport to you. Even if you become unfriends they will usually forgive you if you let them be for a day or two. Rochir can and will hunt for you when you have become good friends and even might give some of their ëalar if you are about to die since it can regenerate to its former size although it takes some time, this will make Rochir weaker than a normal horse and they´ll turn down each second turn in a fight but it will give you +4 on almost everything and make you able to cast thunderwave and misty steps as an extra turn, although only 15 feet.

Cons;

Rochis is pretty egoistic and self-centered, it would be best if you make a habit of telling them how pretty and wonderful they are. Although Rochis can forgive you fairly easily they find it harder to forgive others and will quickly turn to violence if they feel threatened or are afraid for you or think a peaceful negotiation won´t work. You usually have to roll Persuasion if you take them with you to a city or meeting, or happen to meet someone on your travels with them to make them calm down and see reasons, as they insist they are always right. A lot of people can see Rochis is not a normal horse which might cause problems for you. 

Strength; 10 

Dexterity; 18

Constitution; 16

Intelligence; 12

Wisdom; 10

Charisma; 10

Spells;

Misty steps 30 feet range (teleport)

Dancing light 100 feet range (bonus action, four lights will appear that can be used as torches and will light up 20 feet range)

Tunderwave 15 feet range (2d8 thunder damage, pushed 10 feet away) - enemies make a safety roll to see how much damage they take

Storm of Vengeance 360 feet range (2d6 thunder damage and deaf for five turns) can only be used once in between longest until reaching level 10 - enemies make a safety roll to see if they get damaged

Destructive Wave of Mutilation 30 feet range (5d6 thunder damage and 5d6 radiant damage) - enemies make a safety roll to see if they get damaged

[annahiril]

Aina - TROP OC

Portait of Aina, daugther of Annahiril and Mairon/Sauron.

If you want more information about Aina, you can find her character sheet here ♡

Do not copy, retrace or use my art without my consent !

[jonquilandlace]

*whispers*Cult of the Mouse*whispers*

[edensinidil]

𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒆 , the wildfire ( oc )

Amaurë's mumma ~

This is honestly just a sketch idk. I'm in a certain mood and just NEEDED to get smth out of her. Well as stated this is Amaurë's mother, a maia of fire who is also an avian ainu, symbolised by a peacock / phoenix. Those things on her head are peacock feathers!!

Gosh I have so many thoughts about her

Click for better quality!

[angbandsgeneral]

Through sheer strength of will and the degree to which I love this absolute fool, he has been (mostly) complete!!

If the offer for the kids is still up I would GLADLY take it-

his eye widens in surprise, pure and genuine delight flickering in the crimson hue before not a grin, nor a smirk — but a smile finds his dark lips. he takes little hesitance in leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, and give an appreciative squeeze to your arm. “it's gorgeous, dollface. . .”

before that soft smile is curling into a smirk and he cocks his head to the side. “do you really think of me that much? wonder if we can find a way to remedy that. . .”

//YOU'VE OUTDID YOURSELF AGAIN SPOOPSXJKDXN GOD HES SO SO PRETTY, THE LIGHTING - THE LIGHTING!!! THE RENDERING, THE EVERTTHING I'M DJDOXKDKXKD no thoughts, just gonna be staring at this for the rest of the week because OH MY GOD S O B S thank you smmmm 😭❤️

[ofainur]

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ manwë ⠀〳 erulissë⠀ ❜࿔ 

· ⊰ synopsis. after losing a bet, the king of arda submits to his most rebellious subject, who claims to despise him despite touching him with so much love ( minors dni  ៸៸ sexual content ៸៸ explicit descriptions ៸៸ strong language ៸៸ penetrative sex ៸៸ choking ៸៸ bondage ៸៸ 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆-𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 ៸៸ bottom!manwë ៸៸ top!lissë ៸៸ creampie )

· ⊰ note. both with the enabling of @cilil and one person on my erulissë rp blog demanding that I "release receipts" here we have a wonderful smut piece I wrote some time back of our beloved flower girly topping the king of arda ~ honestly I've been brainrotting over these two because for those of you who know her, lissë absolutely despises manwë because of his loyalty to eru and his constant selfless abiding to eru's will, whilst manwë views her with something almost akin to confusion because of her rejection of eru and his will

♡ — 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈

"P-Please. . ."

A slight groan leaves his lips as his head hangs back. His eyes glossy as he weeps for his subject. He couldn't help it. She felt so good. She was simply too beautiful. Even as she stared at him with such hate and malice. As her velvet walls squeezed around his cock.

"E-Erulissë — ngh!"

Her thumb on his nipple and rubbing so callously left him gasping for air. He, the Lord of the Winds, left breathless because of some Maia. His own subject.

"For the last time." Leaning over him, her usually gentle face scowls. "You call me Lissë. Or would you rather something else? Something more demeaning of your position right now?"

"I-I can't take it!" Manwë's whine resonates through his marble walls. His fingers curling into his palms as his wrists tug at the binds holding him down. "Let me touch you. Please," he gasps, fluttering his sapphire eyes at her.

"L-Let me touch you. . . Let me feel you ahnn ~"

His lips part and his eyes nearly roll back when her hips start grinding against his again. She's so small. So tight. She's practically sucking him in and sending him to ruin with rough touches from such soft hand.

Fingers coil around white hair and she yanks his head back, her eyes glaring down at his pathetic form. Her supposed king — here he lays. His pale, jade-like chest decorated in red claw marks. His neck wearing her bites and hickies with pride.

He is nothing in this moment.

He will forever be nothing to her.

And yet she wants him more.

"Pathetic excuse for a king." She spits, her fingers pinching and twisting at his nipple as her hips begin to rock faster. Forming an agonisingly slow rhythm that has Manwë seeing stars.

"You. . . " He breathes, trying to buck his hips faster — if only to feel her hand shoot down and claw at his skin. A warning. Which he promptly ignores. His hips piston upward, powerful and quick — fucking her back into an arching position and squelching her needy little cunt.

Erulissë cries out. It's her turn to splutter. But she quickly regains control and shoots her grip around his throat. Clamping down and hunching over him with such feral eyes.

"Y-You lost the bet, Súlimo." He speaks through clenched teeth, despite the pleasure flickering in her eyes. "I told you that you are my slut for the night."

"You are ruining me," he groaned out loudly, his head tossing back as he slows his hips down with much reluctance. "You. . . Oh just you wait. . ." He pants, face heated and brows furrowed. "When these bonds are off I will. . .ungh. . . ruin this tight little thing right in front of my maiar," he rasps. His hips piston a few more times, ramming right up into that tender spot as though to warn her.

"Oh you will scream for me. . ."

Erulissë has to bite down on her lower lip at his threat. Her hand clenches around his throat as her dark hair frames his face. She leans down, face a breath away from his.

"I'd love to see you try. . . You bastard." She chuckles, biting down on his lip and tearing through the sensitive skin. "But for now, you're mine for the evening."

She stares into his half-lidded eyes and no matter how many times she tells herself that she hates him — that she loathes Manwë Súlimo. She cannot deny their passion. Their fervent nights of strewn sheets and insults followed by numerous kisses.

Their kiss is like two stars colliding. Devastating. Ruinous. Teeth clattering, tongues twisting. She feels him tugging on his restraints — desperate to touch her and she laughs against his lips whilst mocking him by roaming her hands through his body. Showing him her control in this situation.

When she parts they are both gasping. Whispering each other's name as though it were a forbidden nectar on their tongues.

She arches her back once more and rides him as though he is nothing. As though he is not her king. And he takes it as though she isn't his subject. Their hips move in sync. Damaging. Bruising. Even their very touch burned with hate.

And even as her release tore through her and she says his name to the heavens — it's as though she is cursing it.

Oh, but he cares not. His slithered eyes watch her clench and squirt around his cock. Around the same man she claims to despise with her entire being.

He chuckles softly, his head limping back into the sheets as she claws at his chest again to get him to shut up.

"I hate you."

She reminds.

"You're beautiful."

He counters.

·⊰ masterlist.

·⊰ tip jar.

·⊰ get tagged for my writing. @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @cilil @justajane @floraroselaughter @justellie17

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ please consider liking, reblogging and / or commenting if you enjoy my work! all feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

[edensrose]

Small little info points on my oc Lúmirë for those who are interested !

lúmirë means 'dark beauty'

maia of varda and manwë, he controls celestial dark matter and ensures it's balance, especially in the sky. he helped manwë in the creation of the sky and ensures that it is maintained as part of his duties

manwë's royal advisor

he is the older brother of my ocs ruinë and calassë, he is the twin of calassë ( calassë is his counterpart who controls celestial light matter, calassë is now a corrupt maia serving melkor )

he is a deer-presenting ainu, therefore has antlers and deer ears

studious and dedicated to his cause. he is painfully efficient in his duties and work, has a very black-and-white mindset on what is wrong and what is right. comes off as pretty standoffish and cold but that's mostly because of his straightforward and sometimes even monotone personality. has a bit of a sarcastic undertone and a no-nonsense attitude. he's actually a huge softy and naturally protective of other ( also he can get very flustered in intimate and affectionate situations ~ he's so precious, )

he tried to stop calassë when she wished to rain the true power of the stars down onto the land, this turned into a huge fight and resulted in his hands being forever wounded. they grew to be beyond sensitive to touch because his sister had burnt them so horribly. he wears gloves now. for some time he couldn't use his hands at all because of how they shook

very protective of his sisters, loves them so much and was crushed to see them grow corrupted

used to play the harp but now no longer can due to his hands

lúmirë feels indebted to manwë

fána refuses to die for some special little secret that we will get into the more I reveal him

some more pics because fuck I'm obsessed with his face claim please he's so pretty I can't xjdndk

[jewel-pixelheart]

Tolkien OC - The Maia Elmyr

Here she is, my beloved Elmyr 🩵

If you want to see more content about Elmyr/Alruna: click here

And yes, another Tolkien Universe related OC !

She can be include (so far) into : The Silmarillion, the series The Rings of Power, The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.

Small Disclaimer :

I'm not an expert on Tolkien's work/world. I've only seen the movies/series and read The Silmarillion.

Even though I've read The Silmarillion, this was the hardest book I have ever read ! So, not sure I get all the story right, but I'm doing my best to understand everything ♡

This is why my OC is more based on the movies/series than the books. Well, only until my knowledges on Tolkien's books get stronger ♡

I will also make a Rings of Power timeline that will be different from her original one from The Silmarillion. I know a lot of people don't like this series (and I can understand why since I'm reading The Silmarillion), but I personally like the series as it is: Inspired by Tolkien's work and not a direct adaptation.

Things being said, and despite not having finished writing her full story yet, I still have some basic information about Elmyr to share with you:

Other Names

Alruna, Astal

Titles

The White Knight

Mother of Wolves

Great Protector of Númenor (only in TROP)

Birth

Before the Ainulindalë

Death

Immortal

Race

Ainur (Maiar)

Maia of Tulkas and Nessa

Realms

Valinor

Númenor (only in TROP)

Middle-Earth

Soupse

Mairon

Weapons

Powers of Maiar

Shapeshift (especially her Wolf form)

Magic

Sword

As I already said, I'm not an expert on Tolkien's work, so any help or corrections would be welcome ♡

Do not copy, retrace or use my art without my consent !

[son-of-the-moon-and-sun]

Oh my word! Cala! I had the best idea *with a cheeky smile I put out a grinch outfit* I got you a grinch custom and I gave myself the red nose for his dog. Whatcha think?

Cala blinks just staring at the costume for a moment.

“You. . .want me. . .to wear. . .that?”

He asks – unsure still staring at the bright green color.

Then he just sighs – defeated under the love cast upon heart.

“Wonderfully fine idea, thank you, Melmë. . .”

He adds – a little sarcastic tone in his voice.

But he’ll do it – he’ll do anything for you if it made you happy.

— —☀️ answered ｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ˎˊ˗

[cilil]

✧˖° Day 5: Námo & Navëquen (OC) (plus little onesided crush on Navë's part) | Relationship with the Children ✧˖° Synopsis: After another devastating battle in Middle-earth, Námo comes to the battlefield to summon the spirits of the slain before Melkor can. ✧˖° Warnings: Corpses, death, unpleasant scenery (but not graphic) ✧˖° Oneshot

"You must not speak of this to anyone." 

Navëquen had accepted his lord's order without question. It wasn't the first time his silence on delicate matters was required, and it would most certainly not be the last; he needed neither prophecy nor foresight to be sure of it. 

What was odd this time was that Námo not only led him out of Mandos, but also pulled him along in spirit as he teleported far away, to a place Navëquen had never seen. 

It was nowhere in Valinor, that was for certain. Neither grass nor trees were in sight, the very earth was burned and blackened and thousands of corpses lay still around them, bloody and maimed, many contorted in agony and despair, now silenced forever. Only the distant howling of wind remained. 

"Where are we, my lord?" Navëquen whispered. 

"A battle took place here not too long ago," Námo said quietly. "Yet I sense that many fëar still linger, fëar that I have not received and who may not have heard my call."

"So you wish to... retrieve them yourself? Do you not think it might be dangerous for you to come all the way out here?" The thought of his lord being threatened by those who had caused such carnage made Navëquen bristle, getting ready to reach for his sword. No matter what foes might await them, he would — 

"I am a Vala, of the Aratar no less. No one and nothing in this world can slay me, and I go where I will." Námo raised one hand to bid him stand still. "Use your blade to defend yourself, though there will be no need."

He reached for the ornate clasp holding his long, heavy cloak in place. 

"I know I must not be seen by the Dark One. And I know some fëar will forever elude me either out of their own free will or because he got to them first. But I will not surrender thousands of them, not so easily."

"You will summon them? Here and now?"

"That I shall." 

His tone made it clear that his decision was final. Bowing his head dutifully, even as worry continued to make his skin prickle uncomfortably, Navëquen proceeded to move behind him and reverently pulled the cloak from his lord's shoulders. While he folded it, Námo reached for the sash holding his outer robe in place, then waited for his attendant to remove it as well. 

Despite his best efforts to ignore his feelings, Navëquen felt his cheeks growing warm and suspected that his usually pale, almost colourless skin had assumed a dim shade of pink. It wasn't unusual for him to assist his lord in this manner, but rare to see him in such a state of undress. 

Only the inner robes remained now, thin and slightly translucent, allowing glimpses of lily-white skin underneath ink-black fabric. Námo placed his palms together and closed his eyes to focus, mumbling a few words of power under his breath. 

"It is as I thought," he said, "they are scattered, lost and afraid. I must gather them here before we can guide them home." 

"Yes, my lord." Navëquen knew what to do. He would be holding on to what his lord had discarded, watch over him as he performed a spell of summoning for the slain and tend to his every need as it arose. 

Hopefully the One won't choose a time like this to bestow a prophecy on top of it, he thought sardonically, remembering the times he had watched Námo collapse under the weight of a sudden vision and taken care of him. 

It was not as though Navëquen minded such a task, he was always glad to be in his lord's proximity; however, it would be rather unsafe to find himself in enemy territory with an unconscious Vala and only his own strength to defend against the forces of darkness, if they were spotted. 

Námo began to sing. It was pure song rather than any sort of spoken language, understood by each and every living thing, a wistful melody against the howling wind. Slowly, he began moving his arms, drawing wide circles, stretching and twisting his fána. His feet appeared to barely touch the ground whenever he took a step, his sandals spotless and his skin unmarred by charred wood and shards of broken weapons strewn all over the ground. 

Wide sleeves fell back when Námo rose to his full height and appeared to reach for the sky, allowing both himself and those who heard him in the Unseen Realm to pause and behold the regal poise of his chosen form. It was in perfect sync with his mighty ëala, moving, bending and swaying in ways that should be impossible when he began to dance alongside his song, now swift and full of energy. 

Oh, how beautiful he was. And how lucky Navëquen was to be the one to witness such a sight, a rare display of power from the eldest Fëantur. 

Weightless, Námo twisted, turned and twirled around. His voice filled the air, lonely where normally a choir of Maiar would sing alongside him, now reduced to the gentle hum of Navëquen's quiet notes. Yet even so, the song felt all-encompassing, as if the very spirit of Arda was responding to one of its masters. 

Within the Seen, there was only the wind, but within the Unseen, a different kind of storm was brewing. Houseless fëar, first appearing shyly like flickering candles, then flocking to Námo like a herd of spirits, some reaching for him, others crying out. Navëquen had to focus on his fána standing firmly on the ground to avoid being swept away, a task made infinitely more difficult by the sheer force with which he was drawn to the Vala, just as the fëar were. 

With one final note, Námo once again reached for the sky, then brought his hands together and let himself fall to his knees, completing the spell. He remained motionless for a while, letting a flood of spiritual power wash over him until every single fëa he could sense had appeared. 

"Be not afraid," he said quietly. "I have come to take you home." 

Navëquen stepped closer, robes and cloak in hand. "My lord, your–" 

"Later." 

And with that, Námo's fána vanished into thin air, leaving his remaining clothes to be picked up by Navëquen. 

Within the Unseen Realm, his ëala was greater and brighter than before, now fully present, and the fëar eagerly swarmed him, some even attaching themselves to him or hiding within the hair and sleeves of his spiritual form, appearing to them as a great and magnificent lord. 

Thus Navëquen trailed behind as Námo guided his new charges across the sea to rest from the turmoils of life. Indeed, it would be best if no one knew that the Judge of the Valar had come to the battlefields of Middle-earth in person to take back the fëar that the Dark One had undoubtedly planned to harvest for his own nefarious purposes, stealing them away from right under his nose. 

Navëquen shook his head. Námo had always endeavoured to teach him patience, neutrality, impartiality and restraint, yet surely not even the One could blame him for possessing a heart and emotions that were sometimes stronger than the divine law that guided his hand. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose

@elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @singleteapot

@stormchaser819 @urwendii @wandererindreams @ainurweek

[eunoiaastralwings]

Lúthriel – @luthriel-tinuviel

Quildalótien – @quiet-flower-wonderlings

Cala – @son-of-the-moon-and-sun

Ixalië – @illicit-unknown-shadows

Cóloniélë – @tears-of-burden

[ainur-interactions]

*puts Fly Me to the Moon in the background* Lúmirë, dance with me, hold me close and *blushes*, kiss me?

a soft pink flushes lúmirë's face, but a smile graces his lips. he holds his palm out to you, pulling you closer when you slip your hand into his. “if that is what you wish, my moonlight,” he murmurs, guiding your hands into position and he begins to sway with you beneath the starlit sky.

“how can I deny my dearest beloved?” voice tender and mild, he dips closer — lips brushing against yours with tender ardour.

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ want to know more about lúmirë? check out this post