#queen-zimraphel

[adolin]

Happy birthday!!!!

thank you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[sajirah]

Ruling Queens of Númenór WIPs (yes, I am still working on these, I swear).

Tar-Ancalimë

Tar-Telperiën

Tar-Vanimeldë

Ar-Zimraphel (aka Miriel)

(poor Mirel doesn’t get the crown of her forefather’s because Pharazon stole it 😒)

[rittare]

Ar-Zimraphel and Ar-Pharazon, the last queen and king of Numenor.

[eri-pl]

Silm Advent calendar 20: Mountain

Warnings: discussion of Miriel and Pharazôn's marriage (less awful than a typical reading but still), also, it's Númenor, and we all know how it ends, thalassophobia warning (text and visual).

Miriel sighed. “Do I have to, father? We go every year and yet nothing changes.”

“You are not the queen yet, and it is not your duty, but please, come.” Tar-Palantir wore a simple white robe, almost unfit for a king of the most powerful nation, and was ready for the journey. Her things were packed too — reluctantly — but Miriel’s heart yearned for the library, not for a steep road, muddy from the melting snow up on the mountain.

“I will come next time.”

Her father looked at her with those unnerving piercing eyes. “Life is like sailing. If you stop, the wind pushes you back. You won't go again if you don't go today.”

Miriel turned away, adjusting the dry flowers in a vase. 

He took his bag — he always carried much of the things by himself when going to the mountain. “You could pray for a good suitor.”

It came to Miriel's mind to tell him that she was in love with her cousin and see the king's reason for this, but she did not. Was she even in love? She barely knew Pharazôn now, only that he was tall and broad of shoulders and for thirty years she could not think of another man with love. But he was also proud, arrogant, and long gone. And her cousin.

She thought of Idril Celebrindal from the stories of old and of Tuor… Miriel wasn't a girl anymore and should not hope for the Valar to send her someone special. She probably shouldn't read the tale of Gondolin so often either. Life was devoid of miracles. 

She'd prayed for a long time for a man to come, strong and golden-haired and noble, but it has been futile. Why would she go to the mountain again?

Wasn't hope supposed to be waiting patiently and not asking for things? If happiness was meant for her it would come anyway.

Tar-Palantir sighed and left the room. 

Miriel — she should get accustomed to the name Tar-Miriel — put on the gray lacey veil and entered the chamber. It wasn't the throne chamber — not yet. Amandil bowed to her, more deeply than ever before. He wore elegant robes, mourning-appropriate, but official-looking.

“The summer is high,” he said. 

It took Tar-Miriel a while to realize his meaning behind it. “I have to bury my father! Besides, I'm not even officially the queen yet. But sit down, please.”

Amandil did as she asked, but still seemed tense. “A formal coronation is something the people may care about, but only that. You are the rightful queen, Tar-Miriel. You know the words, don't you?”

“Of course.” It's been over seventy years since she went to the mountain, but it felt like one season.

“The people are upset. If there was a sign, something to strengthen your position…”

She shrugged. “If it happens, it happens. I— I'm sorry. Those were rude words. I'm in mourning and I don't think as clearly as I'd wish. Still, I do have obligations to my father. I cannot abandon them.”

He looked at her for long. “You have greater obligations too,” he said quietly, moving closer. “My queen. My friend. Please—”

She closed her eyes. “My friend. Now I need you more than ever. Please, don't leave me, don't argue with me, you at least. If I asked for a sign, that would feel— a real queen doesn't need one. A real queen can hold the power. And nobody owes me any signs anyway. I'm not such a good person as my father was. You don't know me.” She blinked, a few tears went down, hopefully hidden by the veil. 

“Still, you're the best ruler we can have now. The only one. My child—” Amandil put his hand on her head, as he used to when she’d been a young girl.

Tar-Miriel moved back, and he backed too, bowing. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not, just— if the people see— I must be strong. Not all for help. Your or— anyone's.”

The guards came a few days later, before the dust on her father's tomb settled, bringing a different veil for her to wear.

Ar-Zimraphel gazed out of the window, at the wet, brown garden. Winter was drawing near. At least a few months of peace, because he surely wouldn't return in the cold months. Her mother sat at the window with an embroidery work, but idly. She'd grown so much older in the last year. It wasn't fair. 

“I should go to the holy mountain,” she heard herself say. “Pray for the defeat of evil.” Ideally, both of them. 

“Are you insane? Your husband forbade it!”

Ar-Zimraphel shrugged. Why did she always feel like a girl when talking to mother, even now? “What are they going to do? Arrest me?”

“Lead you back to the palace in humiliation and punish your friends for your fancy. This isn't the way to achieve anything.”

“So what's the way?” She turned back to the dim chamber. Mother didn't even pretend to embroider anymore. 

“Patience. You still have time. You don't have an heir, and I don't think you're going to, am I wrong?”

That was an entirely inappropriate question, but old people had their rights. “No. Fortunately, all he cares about from me is the throne. Not the bed.” And to think that she'd once been in love with that hideous man. She'd been such a dumb girl. 

“So, patience. There is a beautiful garden at the north wall, you know. You could visit it in the spring. And who knows, maybe next year will bring some change.” Mother's smile looked almost inhuman, she barely had any teeth left now. 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Nothing, my dear. What do you think I would suggest?”

Ar-Zimraphel blushed. “I'm sorry. I just— Maybe I should go to the mountain. Ask for a solution.”

“That never worked for anyone.”

The sceptreless queen sighed, turning back to the window. It would be snowy anyway. Maybe in the spring, maybe he would not return yet.

Ar-Zimraphel — Miriel — whatever her name was — breathed heavily. The road was much longer and steeper than she’d remembered from her youth. Or maybe it was the air, full of smoke that made it more difficult. Or the shaking of the earth beneath. Or the sheer terror. 

It's been so long.

She’d failed her people, repeatedly. Thrice every year at least. And not only them.

And now the island belonged to the shadow, and blood of her people flowed down the streets, and her so-called-husband had doomed them all.

Why did she even come here? 

It was too late for signs, and yet, she begged for hope. Not for herself— she was old, and weak, and not worthy of the sceptre —but for Elendil and his people. Was he even alive anymore? 

She barely saw the road through her tears. Maybe for the better. The whole island was dying, she felt it in the tremors of the rocks, in the screams of the cracking land, in the smell of fire. 

“Please, keep him safe, somehow. He did nothing wrong. I—” She didn't have the courage to even accept her fate. The earth shook more violently and Miriel held on to the stone wall. “Please, don't let me fall into somewhere dark and close, and full of fire. Make it quick. Please.” 

She clung to the stone, too terrified to open her eyes. Elendil, at least Elendil— she cried, shaking, but the earth shook no more. 

Miriel swallowed. The stone was steady and the air smelled differently. She wanted to curl and cry, and surely there would be no signs, the island was dying—and if she wouldn't look she wouldn't be disappointed—but she'd spent her whole life not looking and—

She opened her eyes slowly and stood up. The sea on the west was tilted. No, it was a wave as big as the mountain itself. Bright in the lightnings, towering and cold. 

She walked on and the wave came to greet her.

[maironsbigboobs]

For @aspecardaweek: aroace Tar-Míriel (and some Númenorean OCs I have grown attached to very fast, haha)

Ar-Zimraphel and her companions discuss marriage.

“And Father says I may wed him, but Mother says he is too young, and – “

“I do not see what your desire is to wed, Inzilkali.”

Ar-Zimraphel’s chambers were often full of this kind of talk; it was the hazard of surrounding herself with young attendants, always eager to discuss matters of love. The queen thought she had heard the tale of Inzilkali and her lover no less then fourteen times in the past few months. Azrabanâth, who had finally worked up the courage to interrupt, sat behind the queen, combing her dark hair into braids.

“What joy is there in marriage? I would rather not wed a man, and if I had no choice, it would not be one so boyish.”

“Have you never been in love, Azrabanâth?” Inzilkali sighed, deep and wistful, and reclined back on the couch, the tight curls of her hair spilling over the arm. Azrabanâth would change her tune if it were a maiden she could wed, Ar-Zimraphel thought, amused by their bickering.

“Not with a boy. You and he are still too young to wed.”

“You sound like my mother.”

Ar-Zimraphel herself had no desire for love; no charming suitors had never moved her heart, though men had called her fair and graceful, had brought her gifts and wrote her songs. Women had fawned over her beauty, praised her grace and wisdom, compared her to the golden sand for the warmth of her skin and the dusk for the rich black of her hair. But none of them had moved her heart (nor any other part of her, except perhaps to draw a smile when they amused her). She envied Azrabanâth’s bold stance: she was the third daughter of a lord, and she could afford to spurn marriage if she wished. Ar-Zimraphel was not so fortunate.

Her gaze drifted down to her hand, adorned with a glittering blue jewel; Ar-Pharazôn’s wedding gift. She was fortunate in one regard. Her husband had no more desire for her than she for him. Or rather, his desire was her claim to the throne, and not herself: there was neither love nor lust in their marriage.

The arrangement had been her idea, though she liked to let Ar-Pharazôn think she had been charmed by him. On her father’s death, there had been few supporters of his daughter. Outspoken and brave they had been, but not enough to withstand her cousin’s claim. Ar-Zimraphel had made a choice then, before any offer had been made to her. She would not give up the royal sceptre so easily. She could not have it by her own right, as was her due, but she would be a queen nonetheless. Ar-Pharazôn had proposed to wed her, to make her his queen, if she would support his claim.

Perhaps this was why she had been born the way she was; perhaps it was best her heart was given to none, so none may break it. She loved only Númenor, her people, and the sea.

“Forgive the interruption, my ladies, but Lady Azrabanâth speaks truly.” The voice came from by the door, where a young guardswoman stood her watch. She wore the dark gold and black of Zigûr’s followers – she suspected the wizard to be planting spies among her. “I am no noble lady, but if I were, I should think I have as much right as any common girl to refuse a husband, if she did not love him.”

“Aglaril,” Inzilkali rolled her eyes as she turned to look at her, “You do eavesdrop terribly. Even common girls know love.”

“Not I.”

“I do not see why,” Azrabanâth chimed in, “A lady may not wed another lady.”

“And she desires not to wed a lady, either?”

“You are being – “

“Ladies.” She raised her hand, and silence fell as the three of the them focused their rapt attention on her. “There is no need to bicker; might it be that thou art all correct?”

The women waited for her to continue – ah, she did not blame them for their confusion. By the years of their people, they were all young and hot-blooded. Wisdom the people of Númenor had been blessed with, but wisdom still had to be learned, and she would share it, if they would listen. Not least because she hoped to put them all at ease.

As a girl she had wondered if she were made wrong, when she had not giggled over training soldiers in the courtyard, or flushed when they took her hand at dances. If she could spare these youth the same confusion, she would. Was it not the role of a queen to care for her people, to guide them, to comfort them?

“In matters of marriage, there is no one answer.” She could not say she did not love Ar-Pharazon in front of one of the wizard’s servants. “A woman may love a man, or a woman, or none at all – these things may be of concern when she decides if she is to wed, but they are not the only factor. To be wed is to be partnered, and respect must be the foundation, not only love, whether one is a farmer’s daughter or a princess.”

Inzilkali sat up.

“You are wise as ever, your grace.” Ar-Zimraphel noted how her eyes darted to Azrabanâth behind her, and how the gleamed with victory. “If only my parents had such sage advice.”

Ah, she thought she had won.

Wisdom was not taught in a day, after all.

[harrowscore]

@queen-zimraphel

there is nothing more important than a dear friend you can be a huge fucking asshole hater with

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Home, ch 1 posted, 8-2-23)

Esgalmir discovers far more on her trip to Rohan than she ever imagined.  (Family, Drama, Insecurity, Romance, Friendship, Angst, Humor) (2 chapter story)

Chapter 1  -  (begins Oct, 45 IV)

The journey from Minas Tirith to Rohan was like nothing Esgalmir could ever have imagined.  Never had she thought to travel so far from home, nor had she ever truly envisioned what the world must look like once one escaped the white walls of the city.  Though Theodred had spoken frequently of his journeys, and the sights he had seen, and loved to tell her of the Riddermark, nothing could compare to actually seeing it with her own eyes.  The forests and plains were glorious, and queen Lothiriel was an unending source of information about all they passed along the way.  Though Lothiriel was an excellent rider, they had brought a carriage along for Zimraphel, who was not quite the horsewoman as her queen, which now proved fortunate since Esgalmir certainly was not up to such a long ride. 

The more unusual aspect of this trip was the other occupant of the carriage.  Arawine, Kata and her family had joined them from Dale at the beginning of October, and they had set out for Rohan.  Arawine and Kata were due to wed shortly after they returned to Edoras, though already the plans had been altered somewhat.  Kata’s sister, Fritha, who herself had wed in August, had intended to join them and share in her sibling’s happy day, but she had become with child almost immediately.  Not only that, she was quickly taken with morning illness that had laid her low, and travel was out of the question.  Though both hated that Fritha would miss the occasion, neither wished to postpone it, so they had tearfully bid each other farewell, and the wedding party had journeyed on without one of its intended members.

These circumstances left a bride with raw emotions on her travel to the south, and Esgalmir was sometimes left alone with her in the carriage.  Knowing her so little, and considering Kata’s history with Theodred, she felt uneasy with the woman of Dale, unsure quite how to relate to the girl or what to say to her.  So, for the most part, they traveled in silence, each keeping to their own thoughts.

Esgalmir did attempt short stints at Theodred’s side each day, usually no more than half an hour in the morning and again in the afternoon, as he taught her the basics of horsemanship.  Lothiriel joined her husband periodically during the course of the day, and Kata would spend some time riding with Arawine, but always there was at least one person in the carriage with Esgalmir.  Zimraphel only rode occasionally, usually when Theodred joined his betrothed, to allow them some time alone.

Another new experience was the camping out in tents.  True, this was a royal party so there was a great deal of comfort to be had even in these circumstances, and there were a few inns that they stopped at along the way, but camping was still part of the agenda.  Certainly, Esgalmir had never expected to find herself sitting around a campfire, under a canopy of stars, and holding hands with a man of Rohan.  And she could not think of anywhere that she would rather be.

After a good week of travel, Edoras loomed on the horizon and Esgalmir’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of it.  Theodred’s home…and now she would count it as her own.  In some ways, though this land seemed most strange and foreign to her, for it looked so very different, and certainly the people of Rohan that she had met behaved in a much different manner than Gondorians did, she felt very much at home here.  She innately believed she was going to like this place a great deal.

continue reading on AO3:

               (https://archiveofourown.org/works/49066210/chapters/123788617)

[ao3feed-tolkien]

A queen she would be

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/VweDK4c

by ohboromir

Ar-Zimraphel and her companions discuss marriage

-

For @aspecardaweek : aroace Tar-Míriel.

Words: 919, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Tar-Míriel, Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Not publish Silmarillion compliant, Aromantic, Asexuality

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/VweDK4c

[saurons-pr-department]

Condolences to the Sauron fandom

Literally nothing can heal the wound created by the knowledge that this fucker will forever be in the Sauron tags T_T

[adolin]

@queen-zimraphel​

GENDERBENT HANDMAID’S TALE?????

[adolin]

The poppy war :P + uhmmm the Farseer trilogy

Poppy war:

never heard of | never read | want to read | terrible | boring | okay | good | great | a favorite

I actually really liked the first part of the first book when it was just. A bit edgy standard YA death academy fare? Then it got obsessively grimdark to the point where it was just boring, but I finished the first book thinking "this has so much room for improvement", especially the misogyny rip. Then a third through the second book I just noped hard - but poppy war by itself was fine

Farseer trilogy:

never heard of | never read | want to read | terrible | boring | okay | good | great | a favorite

I liked it! I read it in high school and was left very traumatized by and for Fitz and I still stand by it. My favourite Robin Hobb is Liveship Traders but Farseer was SO formative for baby me.

[haljathefangirlcat]

i know nothing about 1899 except that aneurin barnard was there, but i've heard of the cancellation and i'm sorry for you <3 this extremely capitalistic culture of any tv show getting cancelled after just one season if they don't get the same ratings of a MCU production is insane

Aw, thank you for your message. <3

And yeah, I totally agree. Especially in this case. See, the thing that makes me so *froths at the mouth* about this is how arbitrary and dumb it all sounds.

Like. 1899 was being written by Baran bo Odar and Jantje Friese, the same people behind Dark. Remember how I used to (and still do) wax poetics about that? XD Anyway, like Dark, it was also shaping up to be a complex mystery show with a gloomy atmosphere, well-placed mythological references galore, and morally ambiguous characters who made questionable life choices and whose stories were probably going to be revealed little by little. So, Netflix basically already had proof that a show like this made by these people could succeed before they even began releasing the episodes, right? And when they actually did release the episodes? 1899 stayed in their top ten shows for weeks. People immediately started posting comments, analyses, theories, fanworks. They were engaging with it and clearly wanted more. And official reviews were generally great, too! Like, "this is one of the best shows of 2022, can we have more German stuff plz" great!

And yeah, this show was a lot more slowburn than Dark had been. And some people didn't like that, I guess. Personally, by the end of the first (and now, only) season I wasn't even entirely sure I could trust anything the characters and the narration had said about themselves anymore... or that I'd even had exactly the firmest grasp on either of them through the whole thing, lol. But that very obviously wasn't the result of screenwriters trying to outsmart the audience and keep us in the dark as much as possible for randomness!!!1 shock value!!!1, it was clearly setting up something much bigger that needed a slow, careful build-up and trusting the audience to have the patience to see it done properly -- the amount of detail and care put into it was honestly insane, and I and many others were more than willing to see all the puzzles pieces be put in their respective places one by one. Because, hey, surprisingly enough sometimes audiences like being trusted instead of being hit over the head with a big sign saying Viewers Are Morons and/or wowed with shiny but empty spectacles and "witty" quotable one-liners!

And yeah, okay, it was probably a lot more expensive than Dark had been, too. But... had the execs at Netflix really not taken that into consideration BEFORE okay-ing the entire project?! There were characters of... what, six different nationalities? All played by actors of those nationalities to make sure their portrayal was accurate? All followed by people whose entire job was making sure the dialogue they were going to be handed in their different native languages was accurate and not stilted, awkward garbage?! And that's without even counting The Volume, the technology they were using to film scenes set on the ship's deck and at sea to make everything feel more realistic, which was the same thing used on HOTD to film flights on dragonback and apparently worked well enough to make some of the actors actually sea-sick during their first scenes with it. I mean... did nobody at all look at all that before shooting started, check the numbers, and go, "wait, no, actually we are not willing to spend that much money on an international series/scifi series/original project that's not an adaptation or a sequel to anything/something that most likely won't start any trends on TikTok or get any outraged kids screaming on Twitter, so how about you tone it down a little"?

Seriously... why give your audience a taste of something so creative and well-crafted only to yank it away because, whoops, you didn't really take enough time to think about it and understand that what you had on your hands wasn't actually the kind of thing you wanted? Why take two people who had already proven their skill and their passion (and likely also their willingness to actually treat their cast and crew well, given that one of the actors from Dark agreed to work with them again in 1899 and others publicly showed their support for the new series) and then pull the rug from underneath their feet? And that's not even counting what a great time the rest of the cast and crew all seemed to be having from the interviews and the behind the scenes stuff...

I guess what stings the most -- besides, you know, being left hanging on a cliffhanger that was obviously going to lead to a much bigger mystery that for once I could actually be pretty confident would get a satisfying resolution while interrogating human nature itself in fascinating ways while getting there XD -- is that people like that, ready to come up with big, fun, interesting ideas like that and to assemble great casts and crews like that, giving plenty of talented and hard-working people their time to shine on such amazing and heartfelt works, don't exactly get Big American Platform Able To Pick Up Or Drop International Projects On A Whim budgets every day. And when they do, and they're even lucky enough to get it a second time... they get discarded, apparently. Tossed away regardless of their talent, passion, great ideas, good relationships with their colleagues and respect for their public. Right in the middle of creating something else that could have turned out to be wonderful.

... and then people like me, who'd love nothing more than to stick with them to the end and fawn over them after seeing them stick the landing again, are left with truncated stories that will never give them the satisfaction of a good ending (how rare have those become, anyway?) and the grim knowledge that they probably won't see anything else like that in a long, long time. Because "anything else like that" won't likely get picked up by the people with the money needed to give it the shape it deserves, or even if it does, it will be picked up and then someone will go, "whoops, didn't think this through, sorry, let's pretend that just didn't happen!"

Sorry for the rant, I really did appreciate this message. I guess this whole vent *gestures upwards* had been building up, too. XD

[swanmaids]

Feanor and Curufin <3

<3

Ok look. Is Curufin objectively an awful elf. Yes. Is 90% of the stuff I like about him just stuff I made up. Yes. Is he my poorest meow meow and on 24/7 rotation in my mind? YES.

Feanor is hmmm to me and I feel bad because that’s your blorbo i know I knowwwww <\3 I just don’t have that blorbo connection with him and I don’t know why. I also tend to favour a less wholesome dad hc than I think a lot of the fandom does so I don’t really connect with a lot of fanon of him. That said I love his wife <3

[thelordofgifs]

Ancalime propaganda time she is SO COOL and 100% deserves a place in the final come on!! Here's a quote compilation:

Even from birth the child was fair, and grew ever in beauty: the woman most beautiful, as old tales tell, that ever was born in the line of Elros, save Ar-Zimraphel, the last.

look she's a special baby girl ok

He tarried until the birthday of Ancalimë, and made much of her that day. She laughed and was merry, though others in that house were not so; and as she went to her bed she said to her father: "Where will you take me this summer, tatanya? I should like to see the white house in the sheep-land that mamil tells of."

JUST A SWEET BABY

Next morning Aldarion hastened away. He lifted up Ancalimë and kissed her, but though she clung to him he set her down quickly and rode off.

... and there's the childhood trauma OUCH.

For Erendis would have only servants in her household, and they were all women; and she sought ever to mould her daughter to her own mind, and to feed her upon her own bitterness against men. Ancalimë seldom indeed saw any man, for Erendis kept no state, and her few arm-servants and shepherds had a homestead at a distance.

this girl's parents are both SO MESSED UP. and passing it all onto her!! generational trauma for the win!!

Of the history of Ancalimë during those years when she was growing up there is no certain form. There is less doubt concerning her somewhat ambiguous character, and the influence that her mother exerted on her. She was less prim than Erendis, and natively liked display, jewels, music, admiration, and deference; but she liked them at will and not unceasingly, and she made her mother and the white house in Emerië an excuse for escape. She approved, as it were, both Erendis' treatment of Aldarion on his late return, but also Aldarion's anger, impenitence, and subsequent relentless dismissal of Erendis from his heart and concern. She had a profound dislike of obligatory marriage, and in marriage of any constraint on her will.

she's SO fascinating and complex aahhh.

Ancalimë, like her father, was resolute in pursuing her policies; and like him she was obstinate, taking the opposite course to any that was counselled. She had something of her mother's coldness and sense of personal injury; and deep in her heart, almost but not quite forgotten, was the firmness with which Aldarion had unclasped her hand and set her down when he was in haste to be gone. She loved dearly the downlands of her home, and never (as she said) in her life could she sleep at peace far from the sound of sheep. But she did not refuse the Heirship, and determined that when her day came she would be a powerful Ruling Queen; and when so, to live where and how she pleased.

we love a proud cold woman who inherits all the worst qualities of both her parents <3

In Armenelos she was treated with deference by all, and not least by Aldarion; and though at first she was ill at ease, missing the wide airs of her home, in time she ceased to be abashed, and became aware that men looked with wonder upon her beauty, now come to its full. As she grew older she became ever more wilful, and she found irksome the company of Erendis, who behaved like a widow and would not be Queen; but she continued to return to Emerië, both as a retreat from Armenelos and because she desired thus to vex Aldarion. She was clever, and malicious, and saw promise of sport as the prize for which her mother and her father did battle.

there's more on her later life and her marriage in the Unfinished Tales but I LOVE these paragraphs on her. she's so cool! and so fucked up!! Vote Ancalime!!

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo: Semifinal

Nerdanel vs Tar-Ancalimë

Nerdanel:

Nerdanel, called The Wise, was the wife of Fëanor, and known as a great sculptor. She refused to follow her family to Middle-earth in the revolt of the Noldor.

Best known as the woman who looked at the hot mess that is Fëanor, went “is anyone going to marry that?” and did not wait for an answer, Nerdanel is also so much more than just the beloved wife of Fëanor. Most notably, she is a sculptor (apparently a male-dominated field in Noldorin society) - her statues are so life-like that the friends of the depicted would go up and talk to them! She is also wise enough to land the epithet Istarnië, which means Wise One, and she is the only person Fëanor ever listened to, which borders miracle territory. Although when she married the pretty young crown prince of the Noldor, people said she was not good-looking enough for him, Fëanor begged to differ, as they had seven kids together, which is the largest amount of kids any Elven couple ever had. There must have been a lot of passion there (or maybe they just really wanted a daughter?). Although Nerdanel always seemed to have wise counsel for her husband, apparently she did not put up with his, as she was close friends with Indis, his stepmother he did not like. Unfortunately, their marital bliss did not last; when Fëanor pulled a sword on his half-brother Fingolfin (Indis's son) and was exiled, she did not come with him and instead stayed with Indis. This is often seen as her inventing divorce, although a more boring reading could simply suggest she disagreed and did not fancy accompanying him (LaCE does say Elven couples could keep separate households for extended periods of time). She also did not think about coming to Beleriand with him after he swore his terrible oath, although she did beg for him to leave her at least one of her kinslaying spawn sweet adorable baby boys (preferably the one she very ominously tried her hardest to name The Fated as a baby). I suppose the resulting, kind of permanent, separation, could definitely count as divorce.

she is a sculptor and an artisan so skilled that Feanor’s love for her competed with his own love of craft and creation. She raised seven sons and pleaded for their fates with Feanor because of how much she loved them and even though she loved him too, she stuck to her own beliefs and refused to leave Valinor….she’s so girlboss and she said you can go be a tragic archetype but our children don’t deserve that and also I will stay right here. We love a woman who refuses to give up her joys and her home even for a man she loves and ESPECIALLY since it was Feanor….the strength of her will is insane. I love her.

Tar-Ancalimë:

The first Ruling Queen of Númenor.

Ancalime the First Ruling Queen Of Numenor Herself!!! Let me tell you she is wonderful! She is savage! 'she did not refuse the Heirship, and determined that when her day came she would be a powerful Ruling Queen' a girlboss! I know people love making characters gay (it's me, i'm people) and Ancalime is a great case for lesbian/ace/aro headcanons (about marriage) ''We could', said Ancalime, 'if I had any mind to such a state. I could lay down my loyalty and be free. But if I were to do so, I should be free to wed whom I will; and that would be Uner (which is ''Noman''), whom I prefer above all others.'' She has gay vibes, take her and love her! Also she eventually gets married (either out of spite or to please the government) and her husband is just so rude to her so she kicks him out of his house because she's the Queen.

Propaganda for my girl Ancalimë, she must succeed. Technically Ancalimë is more obscure than most of the other characters here and she is such a wonderful character. This fandom says they like girlbosses, she is so girlboss, she's the First Ruling Queen. Plus she is politically savy - since she is called Tar-Ancalime that's probably not her original name, which means she could have named herself after the elven tree and not the other way around - that's one heck of a statement and more tree symbolism for her, tree lovers vote for her she is one of you.

Semifinals masterpost

[ohmyarda]

“—and that is one thing you and my husband shall never hope to have that I possess in great value, and that is the love of the people.” Some Tar-Míriel plotting.

[sajirah]

The Rulings Queens of Númenór WIP: Tar-Ancalimë, Tar-Telperiën, Tar-Vanimeldë, and Miriel/Ar-Zimraphel.

In honor of The Rings of Power finally being released, here’s some WIPs of the queens of Númenór I’ve been working on on and off for a few months.