#melian the maia

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

can't believe it's canon that luthien says shit like "unless thou desirest to see thy daughter tinuviel weep" to thingol. she deadass pulls the "you don't want to see me cry do you dad?" on him. i know melian had to study up on ways to be effectively strict with one's children because thingol was the embodiment of go on girl give us nothing for that

[yashmel]

I tried to draw eldritch Luthien for a Luthien week, but ended with just Melian at her normal.

I guess I have to invent something else for the event now

[do-rey-me]

melians heraldic device!

todays drawfee ep made me really want to try pixel art, i was gonna do luthiens, but uhhh. too hard :( curves

[imbadwithprofilenames]

I would love a fic of Elrond with some secret Maia powers. But like kind of realistically since he's only 1/16 Maia. Or just something to do with his Maia heritage. pretty please

[spruceneedles]

But Melian looked in her eyes and read the doom that was written there, and turned away; for she knew that a parting beyond the end of the world had come between them, and no grief of loss has been heavier than the grief of Melian the Maia in that hour. -Silmarillion Ch. 20

[flamingcentaur]

Paint marker experiments 🧊🔮🖊️✨

A take on Melian: I think she’d look sort of unsettling.

[stardustmuguet]

Melian & Thingol, Inktober 2024 day 2 - Discover

[himekasza]

No way this guy asked me if Eöl is my silm crush. Man wtf. Did I not talk enough about Thingol? Thingol and Melian both could keep me locked in some hut in a forest.

[velvet4510]

Please share your ideal Melian in notes. :)

[serene-faerie]

I wasn’t going to say anything originally, but I’m still really annoyed with that one reblog on my bingo card post.

So let me make this very clear:

MELIAN IS NOT A SELFISH NARCISSIST FOR ABANDONING DORIATH

I can’t believe this needs to be said, but apparently it must. Not only is it such a bad faith argument, but it’s completely wrong.

Melian was going through a tremendous amount of grief that was completely alien to her as a Maia. First, Lúthien became mortal and left Doriath to live a mortal life, and Melian has to deal with the fact that one day, she’s going to outlive her own daughter. Then she gets a chance to be a mother again when she and Thingol adopt Túrin, but despite her best attempt to raise him well, he runs away and ends up dying by his own sword. Which means she’s lost another child of her own.

She’s going through the kind of grief that no parent deserves to endure. Túrin may not be her biological son, but his death would’ve really hurt her, without a doubt.

Then, Thingol is suddenly murdered by the dwarves after a fight over the Nauglamir. Her beloved husband, the one she gave up Aman for, is dead, and by this point, Lúthien and Beren are both getting old and they’re also going to die in a couple of years. Melian is realizing that she’s going to basically outlive her entire family.

Can you imagine how that must feel for a Maia like Melian? She must’ve been going through so much pain and grief and heartache. I bet that this is when her Girdle around Doriath begins to fail— the Girdle doesn’t fall yet, but the sheer depth of Melian’s grief is enough to start weakening it.

Being in Beleriand would’ve been completely unbearable for her now. It actively starts to hurt her very spirit, and her powers weaken. I think she realized that if she stayed any longer, her powers would fail her, and she would probably fade away.

Melian didn’t abandon Beleriand because she was selfish. She left Beleriand because she realized that she could no longer live there without the one thing that made her powers flourish— her family.

I’m begging you, have some compassion for female characters and read through the book again PLEASE!

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

i like the idea of sauron and melian being something akin to "siblings" as far as the ainur go, because then 1). their powers intermingling at the borders of doriath and creating a stretch of haunted eldritch land is cool and funny as fuck, just siblings being siblings you know; and 2). that makes sauron lúthien's uncle. he gets thrashed by his niece whom he's just met for the first time and her new dog, and then she chews him out and calls him a bitch to his face. extra comedic potential if sauron knows he's her uncle but lúthien has no idea

edit: well once more i couldn't resist so here is the fic (slight thingol/melian and silvergifting ahead)

[marybeatriceofmodena]

Kind of insane that half the bad shit that happens in the Silmarillion boils down to "Melian gives very sensible advice. Person then proceeds to shrug and do the exact opposite of said very sensible advice."

[lledron]

Sauron Mairon Halbrand y Alicent

I always make the joke that Sauron is Aule's daddy's boy and keep it canon. So I have an idea:

AU Where Sauron in human form ends up in Westeros and sees Yvanna. She is Yvanna, she is the wife of dad / Aule. She is mom. And mom is crying. And yes, I'm adding to the theory that Melkor's giant spider is from Lovecrath's universe, so crossovers are possible!

Sauron can't help. Here he is nobody and he has not recovered his powers. He is sickened by the mess, by the Targaryen traditions of marrying each other. Sauron notices that Mama is biting her nails. Mom should be happy and have trees. And mom should pay attention to it and be happy with those creepy trees with faces.

Alicent does not understand who gives her personalized jewelry with the theme of Mother and Maiden. She knows Sauron. "Hello my lady"

Sauron disguises himself as a cat to attend Alicent and Viserys' meetings. He is against Otto's plan, mom is fifteen years old. Fifteen fucking human years.

This can go two ways:

Sauron kills all the dragons because Alicent made a comment that while Syrax is beautiful she would never ride a dragon. Mom is afraid, now I have to protect her, be the man of the house because mom can't be married to another man who isn't dad.

Daemon boasts that he took Alicent's virginity and is killed by Sauron. Mom is from dad.

Sauron manages to find the equivalent of Aule in this world and cheats on the parents.

Alicent is very sure she is ready to have children after stopping Sauron from conquering Middle-earth.

Sauron takes the form of a child. More shenanigans to come, now he has everything he wants, for now.

Alicent and any poor man who is Aule in this universe, congratulations. Their son is a narcissistic sociopath who loves them with all his heart.

In another line, Alicent marries Viserys, but Mairon has not regained his power, so he cannot prevent his mother from being raped.

Sauron discovers that his siblings are nuisances, but they will give Mom more power. Mom is a goddess, a Valar, but also a 15-year-old girl.

So Sauron takes over Aegon, comforts Mum, tells Aegon he's a little shit worse than Curumo and Aegon's first word is shit.

Helena is born. And here she is different. Sauron hated Curumo for stealing Daddy's attention, but he respected Melian. He now has another sister, who is also a woman in a world of shit. But Heleana has magical potential, so he will teach her well. He will teach her to lie, to deceive, to put on makeup.

All of this happens while Sauron takes the form of a little boy so he can stay with the queen alone. Alicent hugs him and hugs from mom feel good. On one hand, Alicent recognizes that Mairon/Sauron has a connection. She loves him, she is his mother in all the universes. But her son is evil and she knows it. But he hasn't proven to be more evil than the other men.

Aemond is born and Sauron throws a tantrum. He doesn't want another brother and hates him as much as he hates Aegon for hogging Mom's attention. Then Daeron is born and Sauron screams because there is so much evil in the world! Criston Cole is horrible, but he makes mom happy. As long as he isn't platonic, Sauron will keep it. Suddenly, Sauron can shapeshift into a dragon. Since he hates Rhaenyra's bastards he plans to play a little prank at Laena's funeral. Nothing to go wrong. He just needs Aemond's help. Aemond claims a dragon and that dragon leads everyone to see Rhaenyra doing it with his uncle.

And shit breaks loose. Aemond is happy to have a dragon, the Velarions are angry, and Laenor calls for a duel against Daemon for his sister's honor.

Laenor wins and kills Daemon. Rhaenyra will go on trial for being an adulteress and Harwin will be her champion. Then Criston Cole kicks Harwin's ass. Heleana uses her magic to make Rhaenyra admit the truth about her bastards. Alicent rebukes Sauron because now there is a political mess and because his brother thought he had a dragon. "It was just a joke, mom, I didn't know it would go this far," she says with puppy dog eyes.

[imakemywings]

A Weird and Wonderful Fruit

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Pairing: Galadriel/Haleth/Melian

Summary: Haleth was told to stay out of the woods of Doriath. Haleth decided not to listen. Haleth finds herself in strange positions in the darkness of the woods... Rated E!

De-anon from this kink meme prompt

My headcanon for Haleth’s body type is like this.

AO3 | Pillowfort

________________________________________________________

           King Thingol and Queen Melian had told her to stay out of the woods of Doriath. Nominally, Haleth recognized a good bargain when she saw one—with Doriath at her back, her people only had to focus on defending their front, and they had no reason to want to delve into Elvish mysteries. However, avoiding any shortcuts through the woods did at times add a fair amount of travel time onto excursions up north, which was inconvenient. Haleth did not care for impractical inconveniences.

           It was early afternoon when she redirected her returning hunting party to cut through Doriath.

           They weren’t scouting, they weren’t looking for anything—but they were accustomed to giving the woods a decent breadth, even when it added length to their journeys, and why ought they? Thingol and Melian were—if not allies with all attendant responsibilities—at least friendly to the Haladin. Why should such a minor trespass cause issue?

           It had been early afternoon when they first passed under the eaves of the woods—it was no longer afternoon.

           Haleth had entered the shadow of the trees with a party of twelve—there were no longer twelve at her back.

           “The hour’s gotten late,” murmured Enid at her side.

           “Has it?” another hunter turned his face up to where the sky should have been. “I thought it was just…” Dark.

           The air hung heavily between the trees, stirring like great, wet breaths. Haleth was not a twitchy woman by any means, but she began to jerk her head to the sounds of scurrying and scuttling around them, her hands repeatedly going for her spear or her blade, only to grasp on empty air when she realized she was overreacting.

           If there was any sunlight left in the day, it did not penetrate to the forest floor where they crept along.

           The horses were having an even worse time; Haleth had never had so much balk from this mount as trying to coax him through the woods. She was almost certain if she’d dismounted and let go of him, he’d have sprinted to his death quite a while back.

           As she and her depleted group paused—a couple of her men shouting into the darkness for those who had either wandered off or otherwise vanished—she had the most disconcerting sense of hearing the rapid patter of footsteps—overhead. Tilting her head back, she glared into the darkness of the tree canopy, but she saw nothing.

           “Enid,” she said. “Did you…”

           Enid was gone. The others were gone.

           Haleth was alone.

           “Fire and damnation,” she swore, with a good number of other curses to boot, an outburst that was the last straw for her poor strung out horse. He reared up and took off, sending Haleth’s bulk crashing to the earth. She landed heavily, twisting to brace herself with her arms on her side, to avoid landing flat on her back. A stone dug into her unarmored shin and she swore again, yelling uselessly after the horse, who had disappeared into the misty gloom.

           The sound of footsteps again, far above her head, and Haleth’s ears tricking her with the sound of whispers. This place was making her paranoid.          

           She pushed up to her feet—cursing again when she remembered the fruits of her hunt were now gone with her horse—and took worthless stock of the situation. Trying to figure out where she was now was as useless as it had been for the last several hours—assuming they had in fact been in the forest for hours, and not minutes, or days. She had no sense of which direction hid the nearest edge of the trees and retracing their steps had ended with her standing right where she was.

           “Bloody Elves,” she growled, and began to beat her way through the underbrush. One thing was for certain: staying in place wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

***

           It was definitely nighttime. The sounds of the forest—which never ceased—had changed and the murky air had darkened, she was sure of it. The air had grown cooler, but not as cool as Haleth thought it must be outside the shelter of the trees. Sweat still pooled under her arms and at the back of her neck. A bush branch had snapped back into her face and cut her across the cheek in a nasty, wet gouge.

           Worse, she could hear singing.

           Maybe all the Elves were mad from living in the forest, and that’s why they were all so odd. Haleth tried to ignore the faint song, but as she bushwhacked forward, it only grew louder: two voices twining together in the mirk, one a high note that carried most of the melody, the other a slightly lower, stronger tone that wove in and out of the higher song.

           She must have reached a new part of the forest; the branches in front of her now swayed with weighty fruit in tempting colors; shiny, swollen berries and things she couldn’t identify that were all too available and made her remember how long it had been since lunch.

           “It isn’t real,” Haleth murmured to herself as she pushed onwards, ignoring the round, bright fruit swinging in her face, which was probably made you bleed out the eyeballs if you ate it or some other equally pleasant thing. “It isn’t real. It’s your mind playing tricks.” Though Haleth had never heard singing quite like that, so she would have to commend her imagination, which had hitherto proven unremarkable.

           She thrust her way into a clearing, following the trickling sound of water and stumbled abruptly onto the first humanoids she had seen since the rest of her party dissipated into thin air. Both Elves turned quickly towards her, ceasing their song at once, and Haleth, not easily cowed, had to fight the urge to take a step back. The sudden quiet hit her like a slap.

           As always, their ages were indeterminate. One was a lithesome blonde who Haleth would have taken for a female. She was dressed finely in white and green and knelt beside a taller companion with sleek black hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes. At first blush, Haleth had believed them both Elves, but as the dark-haired woman rose, Haleth perceived power radiating off of her. Not threatening, but neither tamed in any sense. Moreover, while all Elves were tall, this dark-haired woman reached further than Haleth had seen from any humanoid. But what did Haleth truly know of Elves?

           The blonde warbled something to her companion that Haleth did not understand and the taller woman responded in a low, methodical voice. With grace, the blonde rose to her feet and began to glide across the clearing towards Haleth, her bare white feet skimming through the untidy grass. Haleth was rooted to the spot.

           Moonlight reached through a gap in the tree canopy over this spot, illuminating the blonde Elf’s delicate features and the ocean blue of her eyes, burning as though she saw in Haleth the end to some long-awaited goal. Her jaw was well-defined, her cheekbones high and sharp, her chin comely. Her ears, around which her thick tresses parted, curved and pointed in that way particular to Elves.

           Before she could form a coherent thought, the Elf’s hand was on her cheek, and Haleth reflexively shoved her back, generally opposed to uninvited touching from strangers and more than a little tense with nerves. It wasn’t a light push—Haleth instantly regretted it, expecting to see the slender Elf bowled over backwards, but while she did stagger back, she kept her footing. Not only did she not go down, she came at Haleth again and placed her hands against Haleth’s shoulders.

           Whatever Haleth expected from the lovely Elf-maid, it wasn’t to be shoved.

           As Haleth had not restrained herself, neither did the Elf. Haleth would have looked at those skinny, soft arms and laughed at the notion this Elf could do her harm. Oh, she had seen some impressive action from the forces of Lord Caranthir in Thargelion, but those were all trained soldiers, men and women alike—not the willowy forest sprite who stood before her now. But the Elf pushed and Haleth had to take several steps back to keep herself from falling right on her ass.

           She had a thought then that this Elf was rather rude, but the white hand was on her sun-worn cheek again, rubbing the thumb against the cut that Haleth had just remembered she had. Then, the dark-haired Elf was there, her hand over the blonde’s, and Haleth made to protest at this, which was really too much, but she realized the stinging in her cheek was fading. As this came to her, the taller Elf stepped back and the blonde looked towards again towards the other woman, whose glossy black hair fell down to her knees but hung in a neat curtain, not a hair out of place that Haleth could see.

           An expert in Elven politics and societal niceties Haleth was not, but even she could see the deferential way the blonde treated the other Elf and she hazarded a guess the dark-haired woman was the elder of the two.

           They shared a long look, and then the blonde turned back to Haleth, and her hands were on Haleth’s leather pauldrons, and then on her chest, and Haleth could smell honeysuckle and fresh cut grass on her and see the dark spokes of her irises in the silver light. She blinked and her armor was hitting the ground and the Elf-maid’s face was tilted down towards her and the excitement that thrilled in Haleth’s stomach made her muscles clench in anticipation.

           The Elves were on her.

           There was mist in the clearing, a low fog descending, and Haleth was on her back. There was the language she didn’t understand and the blonde Elf’s hands skimming up the front of Haleth’s tunic, delicate fingers wrapping over her heavy breasts through the fabric. Heat was burning through her; desire was lit in her; it was both like and utterly unlike the trysts of her youth. Elves! Elves!

           The younger (presumably) Elf’s hair was radiant silver-gold in the moonlight, soft and thick and falling loose around her exposed shoulders. About her crown were woven small pink flowers; one fell loose as she leaned over, and landed on Haleth’s chest. Those sharp blue eyes, studying her face. The Elf was nearer. Her soft mouth seemed in a slight moue of focus. Haleth’s lips parted without thinking; the sound of her heartbeat echoed in her ears.

           But she was not kissed.

           The blonde looked up at her star-eyed companion and more words passed between them, and then she began to draw away. The older Elf raised a hand and Haleth saw an opening part clearly in the flora ringing the clearing. Were they asking her to leave? But the blonde was withdrawing slowly, cautiously, still watching Haleth’s face—no, perhaps they weren’t asking her to leave—perhaps they were inviting her to leave.

           Well, to hell with that!

           Haleth reached up with one broad hand and grasped the back of the blonde Elf’s head, pulling her down to press her chapped lips against that full pink mouth. There was a startled sort of sound in the Elf’s throat, and then something else lower in her chest, and she sank back down against Haleth, her weight hardly more than a snug winter quilt. Distantly, Haleth heard a sound of possible amusement from the other Elf and the moonlight seemed suddenly brighter.

           The blonde’s slender hips rocked against Haleth’s and she gripped the Elf’s thighs, tight enough she’d have worried about bruising a Mannish woman, but there was not so much as a hint of discomfort from this one. Her hands were busy fussing with Haleth’s clothes and when she began baring skin, Haleth didn’t even think to worry about the temperature.

           She ached to be touched, but Elves, as bloody always, were content to take their sweet, immortal time. The blonde was busy nuzzling at Haleth’s neck when Haleth took one of her spindly hands and moved it pointedly between Haleth’s legs. The Elf lifted her head with a look almost affronted, at which Haleth couldn’t help but laugh. She was the one who had started all this! …wasn’t she?

           Suddenly, Haleth realized she couldn’t quite recall how she’d ended up in the grass.

           But that seemed of lesser importance when the blonde was shifting back onto the grass to kneel between Haleth’s legs. The dark-haired one was behind her then, drawing Haleth up against her, cool hands taking the place of the blonde’s against Haleth’s breasts. With greater skill she massaged and tweaked at Haleth’s nipples, until the Man gasped, and was fully convinced this Elf was the older of the pair. More experience.

           They were looking at each other over Haleth’s shoulder and she almost had time to be somewhat annoyed about this, but then the younger Elf’s hands were moving up her inner thighs and suddenly she decided she didn’t much care if they were talking about her. Particularly when the blonde pinched her leg and Haleth gasped and shuddered, drawing the first of something like a smile from the younger Elf. The fingers of the dark-haired one were roaming over her ribs until the hands of the Elves met at her hips and she lifted the blonde’s hand up and past Haleth’s shoulder, doing something that made her younger companion shiver. She withdrew her hand, kissed her own fingers, and promptly slid them between Haleth’s folds, dripping with arousal.

           She couldn’t help the way she squirmed towards the Elf’s touch, particularly when she seemed prepared to go on teasing Haleth here as well.

           “Oh, come on,” Haleth gasped, spreading her legs further apart. “I need more than that!”

           A lifting of the blue eyes up over Haleth’s head again, and then she felt first one, then another finger easing into her cunt and she groaned. The older Elf squeezed her ample breasts and Haleth found herself delightfully pinned between their hands. For one wild, youthful moment, she thought of the women of her past she’d have loved to tell of this! The blonde smirked and while Haleth hardly considered herself an authority on Elvish expressions, she’d have called that look smug. This Elf-maid was pleased with herself.

           If only she’d get on with pleasing Haleth too!

           Just as she was about to give her some more encouragement, the blonde began to move her fingers and Haleth’s head fell back with a grateful moan. Everything else faded away—the moist grass underneath her, the rustle of the leaves, the fear of being lost, the anxiety for her missing followers—all she knew and felt was the thrust of Elven fingers in and out of her cunt, the ghost and squeeze and scrape of Elven nails against her breasts, her neck, her belly.

           Everything in her began to grow taut and Haleth bit back a curse as a wave of pleasure crashed over her, once again unable to resist writhing on the blonde’s fingers—there were three now coated in Haleth’s fluid. She was close, she could feel the promise of that peak of pleasure building in her core. She reached down to finger her clit, but the Elf knocked her hand away, taking up that job herself as well.

           “Well I won’t stop you,” Haleth panted, eyes shut, twitching with something less than dignity between the two Elves. The tightness in her body was nearing a breaking point, but Haleth wasn’t quite ready to let go and be done with this experience; she beat back her orgasm, holding it at bay, moaning to be fucked and stroked by Elvish fingers.

           The dark-haired Elf whispered something near Haleth’s ear and pinched her right nipple, and the blonde gave a few sharp thrusts of her fingers in quick succession and then Haleth was climaxing whether she was ready to be done or not, cries ripping unabashed from her throat as she shook between the women, muscles spasming, her mind blank of anything but oh fuck, oh fuck, more, more, more, please!

           As she sank down from her high, her eyes refocused on the blonde Elf watching her. The slender thing began to draw away, but Haleth was not one to be an ungrateful lover and she sat up, reaching to pull the Elf back once again.

           “What, nothing for you?” she said when she’d caught her by her narrow waist. She began to grope for the hem of the Elf’s skirts. The blonde snapped her attention up to the one behind her, but if she was seeking some answer, she didn’t seem to get it before Haleth managed to get her hands under the younger Elf’s dress and trace a path up her soft thighs.

           The Elf did not fight her there, and while Elves were subtler about most things, Haleth had an eye for particulars and she could see the way the blonde shivered and her eyes dilated when one of Haleth’s calloused hands pressed to the damp front of her underthings.

           She allowed it when Haleth lay back, pulling her, undershorts discarded, to come straddle Haleth’s hips again. She drew her down into a kiss, which was surprisingly soft considering how this Elf had just ravished her. Amused, she nipped at the blonde’s lip and was rewarded with a jerk of Elvish hips against her lap. Oh, she was worked up alright—Haleth had no doubt if she’d let her wander off it would’ve been her own hand in place of Haleth’s later on in the night.

           “That’s it, you like that, don’t you?” Haleth crooned, finding some vestiges of her voice again now that she wasn’t mindless with the need for a fuck. The dark-haired Elf appeared behind her blonde companion and drew the younger Elf back into her arms, stroking that spun gold hair, murmuring something soothing to her. Were they a couple, Haleth wondered? Or master and apprentice of some kind?

           When the older Elf’s hands retreated some, Haleth gave another tug on the blonde. She didn’t fight this time either, though Haleth saw those deep blue eyes go wide with shock when Haleth pulled her up to kneel over Haleth’s head.

           “What, Elves don’t do this?” she asked, sweeping the blonde’s skirts out of the way until she had free access to the blonde’s flushed, pungent cunt. “Come here, sweetheart.” She grasped the blonde’s hips and urged her down until she could press her mouth between the tight blond curls at the apex of her thighs. A trembling moan sounded from above Haleth and she grinned against the Elf’s hot, wet flesh, closed her eyes, and put her tongue to better use than talking. Haleth had never been an eloquent speaker—but she’d been told she was decent at this.

           She lapped enthusiastically at the Elf’s clit and the poor thing must not have been far to start, for it was only moments before she was crying out regularly. She fell forward, hands twisting in the grass just above Haleth’s head, and ground her hips against Haleth’s mouth with such desperate need that Haleth couldn’t be inconvenienced by it. She was gasping something in Elvish, and sounded on the verge of tears, and while Haleth had no idea what she was saying, she knew that tone quite well.

           Haleth felt motion over her and guessed the dark-haired Elf had chosen to straddle her to stay close to the blonde, whose legs quivered against Haleth’s ears.

           She didn’t know how much Elvish biology differed from Men, but if this Elf had been a woman of the Haladin, Haleth would have said she would have to finish soon. Some things must not have been terribly different, for Haleth gave a few additional nibbles and sucks as she pressed two fingers into the Elf’s cunt and suddenly the blonde was wild with spasms, falling backwards against her companion, wailing. Her orgasm seemed to go on! Perhaps that was different—and Haleth couldn’t help but feel slightly envious.

           The blonde, seemingly not yet over the ordeal of pleasure, slumped into the arms of her companion, who lifted her off Haleth and laid her out on the grass nearby, still twitching and moaning.

           “I’m going to give myself credit for that,” Haleth said, wiping her mouth as she sat up. The older Elf was stroking the blonde’s hair gently, but she turned to Haleth as she spoke. Haleth had the uneasy sense again that there was a difference between these two Elves. In fact, she was quite sure this dark-haired one had been brown-eyed when she first entered the clearing, but those heavy-lidded eyes now looked more silver than brown.

           Had they always been silver? When had Haleth first entered this clearing? And from which direction?

           A smile pulled at the corner of the older Elf’s mouth. She let her charge lie carefully on the grass and then came at Haleth. Wariness, heretofore abandoned, sprang up again in Haleth and she tensed, but the Elf only bowed her head and pressed a cool, open-mouthed kiss to Haleth’s lips, still slick with the discharge of her companion—who, for the record, was a squirter. Haleth closed her eyes, tasting the sweetness of the dark-haired Elf’s kiss, waiting to see what this one had in mind.

           Haleth was dressed and looking out at the edge of the wood.

           Haleth was—wait.

           Haleth was dressed?

           Haleth was no longer lost?

           Where was—?

           She whipped around, startled by the spear in her hand and the helmet on her head. A full moon beamed down on the open fields ahead and at her back was the darkness of the forest.

           “Haleth!” Enid was running heavily towards her, leather armor jiggling with the motion. There was a cluster of others a few yards from the forest edge. “Haleth!”

           Blinking stupidly, Haleth watched Enid approach.

           “You’re back!” Enid exclaimed.

           “You’re back!” Haleth returned.

           “Everyone else turned up hours ago,” Enid said. “We were just talking about going in to look for you.”

           “Well I hope you weren’t in support of any fool plan of that sort,” Haleth said sharply. “Better to lose one than twelve!”

           “We were worried something might have happened to you,” Enid said. “That you might’ve been captured by Elves or something. Lord Caranthir said the Wood-elves aren’t trustworthy. They’re dangerous.” Haleth snorted.

           “I’ll take Lord Caranthir’s opinion into due consideration,” she said with a suppressed snort. “I don’t believe we face any threats from Elves today.”

           “So you weren’t being tortured gruesomely while we had our discussion?” Enid asked, grinning. Haleth paused.

           “No, no torture,” she allowed. “Not today.”

           “Good. Let’s get home then. The horses haven’t returned and I’m looking forward to bed.” With that, Haleth couldn’t disagree. She stepped out of the forest eaves and followed her women. They still had a decent walk back to get home.

[aotearoa20]

May Fic Recs

All That's Best of Dark and Bright

Author: clothonono Characters: Thingol/Melian Rating: Gen Word Count: 1844

Tell me more about married. "I do not know very much," Thingol said. "I have never been married before.” The night laughed. The woodland breeze caressed his hair. A nightingale settled on his shoulder. We are the same. He thought they must be the two most different people in all of Arda. He tried to think of more to tell her. "Among my people, marriage is a bond in the spirit and the flesh." Flesh! So much of you is flesh. What is it like to be matter? "I am matter?" You are enormous! she said. And you are very full of water. "No lady has ever given me such a compliment," he said. He could tell that it was a compliment, a strong one.

In which Thingol and Melian finally take stock after the dissipation of the enchantments of Nan. I think this is one of my favourite fics of this pairing that I read so far. They are both so delightfully weird and low key creepy but in a way that shows how perfect they are for each other. I love it so much!

Read here. Author’s Tumblr: @clothonono

Note: This fic is archive locked

[raointean]

Day 3 - LGBTQIA+

[Context for non-Silm fans: Melian is a Maia (the same species as Gandalf, Sauron, the Balrog, etc. Basically an angel or minor god). She is the only Maia known to have had children and she is the great-great grandmother of Elrond and Elros. Elros is the ancestor of all Numenorean nobility (such as Elendil, Isildur, Tar-Miriel, and Pharazon) which means that they have her blood as well. (I promise it’s relevant!)]

"I'm going west." Elendil looked up from where he was arranging the next month's deployments. 

Anárion was standing in the doorway of his study, a bag slung over his shoulder. Elendil only raised an eyebrow. They'd had this discussion several times before, if much more frequently since Anárion had turned eighteen; he knew what his father’s answer would be. 

"No." He went back to his papers. 

Anárion scoffed. "I am not asking, Father. I am going to the western side of Númenor to seek out The Faithful and the shrines of Melian whether you allow it or no."

Elendil sighed and set down his quill. It seemed they were going to have this argument again. “I have told you half a million times; there is nothing for us on our western shores. The old ways are dead, let them lie.”

“They are not dead,” Anárion hissed. “I have heard Her voice in my dreams since I was a child! I hear it in the waking world every time I go near those shores. She is calling to me, Father, and I cannot continue to ignore her!”

“There are no voices there, only ghosts,” Elendil snapped. Anárion had strayed too near the truth. In his own childhood, Melian’s voice had been an ever-present guardian on the wind but, since moving to Armenelos, he had learned that it was unwise to mention any Maia, even his own ancestor. Every child that heard rumor of disembodied voices in the West was brushed aside with tales of ghosts. Elendil had told his own children the truth, but he regretted it now.

“I do not hear ghosts,” Anárion shot back, his voice laced with vitriol. “That may be what everyone else in this city believes, but you yourself told me the truth! That Melian can still speak to the descendants of the Tar-Minyatur through her shrines and She calls them in dreams. You told me that you have heard Her too!”

Elendil stood up with a start. He stalked over to his son and said in a low voice, “No. As far as you or I or anyone else is concerned, Melian does not exist. The Faithful are either overly religious simpletons or terrorists. We are loyal kingsmen untroubled by the phantom voices of the west. You must hide, just as the rest of us do, to keep yourself safe.”

“But-”

“No,” Elendil interrupted. Anárion clearly did not understand the peril he put himself under by being so blatant about his political beliefs. “If you even so much as speak kindly about The Faithful, you will be outcast from society.” His eyes softened. “I just want the best life possible for you, son.”

Anárion growled in frustration. “I don’t care! I don’t care about being safe, I don’t care about society, and I don’t care about an easy life! I care about what is right! The Faithful are right, so I must join them!”

With that, Anárion turned and stormed out of the study. A moment later, after his shock had worn off, Elendil followed. He reached Anárion in the front hall and pulled him back with a heavy hand upon his shoulder.

Anárion stopped but did not turn to face his father. That was alright, so long as he was listening. “What kind of example do you think you’re setting for your sister?”

It was a desperate last attempt and both of them knew it. Without turning, Anárion answered, “A good one I hope.”

He shrugged off his father’s hand and strode to the door. He placed his hand on the handle, but stopped and looked back without opening the door. “Please, do not think less of me, Father. I am only doing what I judge to be right. I know that, deep in your heart, you know it to be right also. I just pray that you’ll have the courage to admit it someday.”

And with that, Anárion turned and walked out into the darkening evening, leaving his family and his old life behind.

A/N: I kinda struggled with this prompt because I don’t really hc any of the characters as queer, so I went with something more allegorical instead. A lot of Elendil’s lines are straight from my mother’s mouth lol

@ringsofpowervalentinesweek