#silm abo au

[lordgrimwing]

Ages

(as in: you're how old?!)

Another gala made infinitely better by Elrond’s presence. Gil-galad relaxed in the carriage, legs extended across the slightly bouncing box (he’d never claim it was a great carriage. Whoever made it clearly had more whimsy than sense, which matched his air at parties. It was perfectly serviceable) to the plush bench across from him. 

Elrond (his savior from all things dull and boring and political) looked at his soft, embroidered slippers and shook his head. Clearly, he still thought the footwear choice for the evening was ridiculous despite how Gil-galad displayed himself to his best ability on the dance floor. He, of course, wore practical wood bottomed shoes that wouldn’t have a hole in the heel after a night of stifling reserved and polite revelry—how very Elrond of him. 

Endearing really. At least he’d worn the pair Gil-galad commissioned special for him last year and not the pair he wore to work in the healing halls (very practical, amazingly comfortable, very not suited for someone under his patronage). 

As usual, the evening started with Elrond nearly clinging to his arm as he introduced him as the ‘bright, up and coming physician’s apprentice’ he’d snatched up. They made the rounds, said all the proper ‘how do you does’ to all the right people, avoided the people he really did not want to talk to (they would have wanted to talk politics with him and strategy and career opportunities, which he just wasn’t in to) (was it too much to ask to remain where he was, fair outside of the High Family’s notice?), and ate some truly divine petit fours. Gil-galad had to defend Elrond’s place on his elbow or risk losing the witty commentary on the events to some lord or lady wanting to snatch him off for a dance or three. Made him feel very noble, defending his friends honor from the horrors of the petty nobility who definitely just wanted to know him for his connection to the crown (or to the dispossessed wandering sons of Fëanor who some thought had the greatest claim to the throne and whom Elrond just so happened to be raised by).

Overall, a blinding success yet again.

There was one thing that weighed on his mind. 

Elrond was so charming and graceful despite that wild upbringing with the nomads, it was easy to forget he hadn’t always been connected to Lindon’s lower court. Sometimes things came up that everyone knew about because they were either in the vicinity when it happened or because it came up every few years on polite gossip and reminiscence—everyone, that was, but Elrond. 

This time, it was a joke. Well, not so much a joke and half of story about a certain blond prince and his penchant for unsavory wildlife, but everyone knew the best parts that went without saying (because as it turns out one should generally keep the more lurid details of a minor and hilarious scandal out of everyday chatter when a High Prince was involved, just in case) and found the story perfectly timed and execute and laugh worthy. Gil-galad himself halved until he had tears in his eyes and Elrond had to rescue his drink so he didn’t spill it on the floor, or worse, on his brocade robe (a pain to have cleaned. More reason to keep Elrond all to himself and never lose his sensible head). After that, Elrond turned to him in all seriousness with far more questions that he could answer in a full room.

Because, of course, Elrond hadn’t been here. He hadn’t been in Lindon. He hadn’t been born. Surely his parents (well, the mortal one at least. The elf father (because it was always the elf who sired in these cases. Peculiar and perhaps worthy of later exploration) most likely was traipsing around somewhere) had still been many generations from being born. He didn’t know. 

He was young. All half-elves were, not that Gil-galad had met many others but one did hear about these kinds of things. They were only half elf, after all, and the other half was mortal (humans, almost exclusively, though he heard rumor of a dwarf once), and being half mortal they had a habit of dying like mortals. Unfortunate. He liked not thinking about that.

So, how old was he? 

Gil-galad squinted across the carriage at him, thinking. 

“What?” Elrond asked, staring back at him. “Is there icing in my hair again?”

(The icing incident happened six months ago, and they’d all had a good laugh about it. He wouldn’t be opposed to picking pink icing out of that curly brown hair again).

“How old are you?”

He couldn’t be more than four-hundred years old, maybe as young as three-hundred. His face had some lines but nothing like the older mortal races or even the truly elderly elves (like Círdan, the old gaffer, still insisting he could take his little sailboat out alone like he wasn’t the oldest elf this side of Cuiviénen—wherever that was). A reasonable age. Just a bit younger than him. A good age for dealing with minor nobles. 

“About one-hundred and seventy. Why?”

And living in the middle of nowhere would explain why he missed out on all the good gossip and—wait. 

“What?”

Elrond shrugged his narrow shoulders (but not too narrow. He’d seen how they’d started filling out over the last few years). “Well, I don’t know exactly. Birthdates didn’t seem all that important in the middle of a plague village.” 

“You’re a baby!” The first thing he thought of popped out of his mouth, as sometimes happened when he was relaxed.

“I’m well past elven majority, thank you.” Elrond sounded incensed. “And I’ve seen humans grow up and die, so I’m far from an infant.”

“A hundred and seventy,” Gil-galad repeated, pulling his diverging thoughts back to some semblance of focus. “You’re not even two-hundred and I’ve introduced you to the vices of drink and leaf!”

Elrond snorted. “Dwarven pipeleaf is a superior cultivar, and Maglor gave us rags soaked in aloe liquor to suck whenever we were teething. The only thing you’ve introduced me to is decidedly tame dancing.”

“And the best peaches you’ve ever tried,” Gil-galad insisted, still off balance (he could have done without the reminder that Elrond grew in his teeth all wrong as a child and new ones just kept popping up every few months. At some point he got a whole new set of teeth as a child. Might his body just up and decide that he needed a third set at some point, like some kind of shark? He did not need that kind of body horror in his mind right now).

“And the best peaches,” Elrond agreed. 

Yes, yes, fruit was a topic he could manage.

“Tomorrow,” he announced, stretching his arms and folding them behind his head, “I am going to bring you dewmelon and mulberry in cream and you will never forgive me for not introducing you to it sooner.”

Elrond laughed. “Don’t you have council meetings and work all day tomorrow? That’s all you complained about yesterday.”

Gil-galad sat up, pulled his feet off the seat, and leaned forward. He put a finger to his friend’s lips, hushing him. “Elrond,” he said, “please don’t spoil my imagination with reality.”

He felt Elrond smile under his hand. 

“Okay, but only for tonight.”

[nighttimepatrons]

Gil-Galad: Okay, get in.

[lordgrimwing]

- Gil-galad to Elrond

the special occasion is now. eat the fruit

[jolidei]

The heir of the Noldor ft Fëanor lives AU.

Fëanor : Hello my children!

Amras : Atya, it is so early.

Caranthir : Atar, you cannot summon us this way.

Celegorm : It's not fair. I will not stand for it.

Curufin : Really, we have lives. We have business to attend to.

Fëanor : By businnes do you mean provoking political discussions and getting into trouble that I should ignore?

Maedhros : My word, there are impressionable young gentlemen present.

Fëanor : Impressionable? Trust me, Maitamo, no sexual innuendo makes an impression upon you brothers. I wish it did, that they might get ideas to marry and start fornicating.

Amrod : Atar!

Fëanor : Perhaps, then, I might have grandbabies. Instead; virgins to the left of me, lustful to the right.

Maglor : I believe I am a married elf.

Fëanor : Yes, and where are you babies? You have made zero heirs to the Throne.

Maglor : I am trying!

Fëanor : Are you? Really? Dearest, I explained everything to you? I drew pictures? You are doing it correctly? Make sure you are putting it in the right place?

Maglor : Atar!

Fëanor : The only heir to the throne abdicated and abandoned us!

Curufin : — Sounds of crying —

Fëanor : …

Fëanor : Sorrows, Sorrows, Prayers. — gives him small blows on his back —

Fëanor : I'am stating facts! The princes have had no babies.

Fëanor : We had one heir, one royal and he is gone!

Curufin : — Sobbing —

Fëanor : Sorrows! Prayers!

Fëanor : Children, this is a crisis. I’ve heard from King Thingol on the topic. Worse, Ñolofinwë is talking about it, wich means everyone will be talking about it.

Celegorm : Atar, I think you are being a bit zealous.

Fëanor : No!

Fëanor : It's time to find for respectable husbands, it's time to find for admirable wives. Get started. One of you had better produce to next ruler of The Noldor or your grandfather’s line dies with him.

Fëanor : Make me a royal baby.

Maedhros : Atar, you can't really expects us t-

Amras : I'm still a babe Atya, you can't expect me to have one?!

Caranthir : This is utterly ridiculous. My husband has abandoned me. How will I produce an heir without him?

Amrod : He did not abandon you Moryo, he is dead.

Caranthir : It's the same.

Celegorm : We must get tyelpe back as soon as possible!

Curufin : You will not disturb my baby's peace! In addition, Findaráto won me custody in court.

Maglor : There's no need for that, Daeron and I will make it, eventually.

Fëanor : It is not a difficult task. Your Ammë and I made seven royal babies all by ourselves. I do not see why the would lot of you cannot make just one.

— The noise of arguments and disagreements can be heard in the background. —

[girlbookwrm]

i can’t believe i’m doing this

@jhscdood​ listen i got No Time to write the fics for this right now, but have some Fellowship of the Pod People (but not like that) Headcanons.

@ all of the rest of you, please for Eru’s sake help yourselves: literally nothing would make me happier than to have someone else write this shit so i could read it like the lazy asshole i am.

None of this will make a DAMN LICK OF SENSE if you aren’t familiar with the Not Your Mama’s ABO Clownfish AU that @silentwalrus1​ created with @skellerbvvt​ and @galwednesday​ in the Magnificently Weird MCU Stucky Gem Scents & Sensibility 

shit this got hella long don’t look at me but please all feel free to correct/expand/modify because I just whipped these off to decompress after a long day

The Númenóreans are responsible for all that “reef” “pod” and assorted “fishy” terminology, so while “pod” “reef” etc may be the accepted academic names, they’re often replaced with local variants and colloquialisms. The Númenóreans picked this linguistic quirk up from the sea-obsessed Noldor elves, so it’s sometimes used in Rivendell and Lothlorien too.

(The Sindar elves fucking hate that)

(Sindar use bee euphemisms instead. It’s all “hives” and “skeps” etc etc etc. Try to tell me Thranduil isn’t a Queen Bee. I FUCKIN DARE U. The wine is all honey mead. Hex honeycomb aesthetic for the win. Even the dungeons.)

(FYI Dwarves ALSO have a Hexagonal Aesthetic and that just Really Gets Thranduil’s Goat.)

everyone’s got their own local names for alphas and omegas too because seriously who fucking came up with that, i bet there’s a whole appendix at the end of the red book about terminology and shit

(Now I’m having meta thoughts about linguistics and there being a clownfish!Tolkien to go with the clownfish!Middle Earth. And now I’m thinking about the Inklings being a pod and if i follow THAT rabbit hole any further I’ll fu cki ng  AS C E N DHJKfghjk.)

Anyway

Men smell gross. Everyone else is agreed upon this. Unflattering comparisons to badgers and weasels have been made.

This makes “MANFLESH” 12000% more hilarious ur welcome

it’s funny cuz Men are big into perfumes. Incense! Herb Sachets! Oils and tinctures! Have you ever seen a olde tyme perfumers’ box? That kinda shit. Everyone has their Signature Smell.

but elves especially are like you still smell like man stop trying to hide it.

The Dúnedain embrace The Musk. (some have fully weaponized it)

this is very important: Aragorn Smells Amazing. (to be clear, still very Man Smelling, but awesome. first time he goes all I AM UR KING everyone in the throne room goes a little glassy eyed.)

Minas Tirith, being old, is very Old Numenorean Oceanic Aesthetic. Give me all that white stone carved to look like coral and driftwood holy shit YES. 

WHITE! TREE!! GARDEN!!! 

ATHELAS!!!! SCENTED!!!!! EVERYTHING!!!!!! (pairs well with lemon and other citrus smells.)

veering away from Gondor now

The Rohirrim stick with horse metaphors because of course they fucking do. Also, since they’re more nomadic, the entire concept of a “reef” as in a physical structure is kind of ??????? to them. So. “Reefs” = “herds” and “pods” = “bands.” 

Fresh Hay is considered to be Peak Homely Smell in Edoras. Tapestries! Only The Softest and Nicest and Most Beautifully Tooled leather! leather smells!

OH SHIT GIVE ME ALPHA-FOR-LIFE-EOWYN MEETING FOREVER!OMEGA FARAMIR *HEAVY BREATHING*

(oh shit while we’re in the neighborhood, Dúnedain Rangers tend to be solitary As, which spooks the natives like whoa, but the Ithilien Rangers are generally O, and their waterfall hideout is totes a big ole reef.)

hang on i forgot about elves

Listen, I’m not super into elves myself but I’m imagining that they are perpetually switching back and forth between A and O depending on the day — nay, the HOUR — and the extremes between A and O are much less extreme for them than other races.

Every other race finds this super weird and disturbing.

Legolas is like “hm this forest is making me feel very O.” And Aragorn and Gimli are just like ‘what’ and then suddenly Leggy smells very O too and Aragorn and Gimli are like ‘WHAT’

Feänor is the exception. He turned the dial all the way to A and broke the goddamn knob off.

Galadriel can go from Maximum Softe O to Roid Rage A in .0004 seconds. “iiiinstead of a dark lord yyYYOU WOULD HAVE A QUEEEEEEN!!!1!” and the Hobbits are literally bowled over.

Elves in general smell woody but also very ocean-y i think? Have you ever stood in a pine forest by the ocean, where you get those light, clean wood and cedar and pine smells all shot through with sea breeze? Like That.

But elves are more into visual/audio. Soft singing. Leaves moving in the breeze. The whisper of pages in a library. 

and the light. Elves are lighting wizards, they are all about that gentle starglow.

(I’m also having thoughts about the Lothlorien Elves embracing that A-ish urge to be Up High. A holdover from Galadriel’s time with the feanoreans? I'm not as up on silm lore as I should be)

but let’s get back to my happy place: 

THE MUTHAFUCKIN SHIIIIIIIIRE

Hobbits really embrace dat sweet sweet O lifestyle. good food and warm hearths. throw blankets and pillows. hugging and cuddle puddles and playing footsie. gardens. Gardens. G A R D E N S. 

“Going A” is done as rarely as possible. the transition takes about a month and Hobbits who are “going A” tend to call in sick like it’s some unsightly thing. 

Tooks have an unusually high rate of going A. Of course they do.

Bilbo has never gone A. Not! Once!

Neither has Frodo.

Sam did, after the breaking of the Fellowship. Merry and Pippin did, in Fangorn, when they grew six inches. The three of them all stayed A after that, for the most part. YES EVEN SAMWISE. it was v scandalous.

Hobbit “reefs” are called “warrens” (unless ur rich, then they’re Smials and they’re Only For Family) and their “pods” are “nests.” “Nesting” is a whole Thing.

Hobbits! Smell! Like! Baked! Goods! Not sweet but like… warm. Humans sometimes turn their noses up and call it a “yeasty” or “beery” smell but it’s usually much more a rising-bread smell. Pipeweed smoke and sweet florals make a nice contrast to the perpetual bakery window smell.

Hobbits are very mouth/taste/chew oriented. Mouthfeel is a Big Deal. Recipe Books are Heirlooms. Courting is frequently Food/Drink Oriented.

Rosie Cotton brews the finest ale in all the land and she did that for the express purpose of seducing Samwise Gamgee

He Did Not Realize.

Courting that is not food/drink oriented is Flower/Plant oriented.

Sam Gamgee became the finest gardener in all the land in the desperate hope of wooing Mr. Frodo.

He Did Not Realize.

Everyone Else Realized. Merry and Pippin especially considered it Peak Comedy.

(they eventually worked it out.)

last but not least:

there’s just no way around it. Dwarves smell like dirt. nice dirt tho! Petrichor and stone with hints of copper and metals. Smoke smells. Rich spice smells. Eau de forge is considered a particularly desirable perfume. Dwarves don’t particularly notice smell though (for reasons that will become apparent) when it comes to Softe Things they’re much more about dem sweet sweet sparklies, and fur, and being super fucking tactile.

Dwarves are SUPER into haircare, like, every night the Company of Thorin makes a braid circle and exchanges hair beads. 

(elves are also super into hair care. this too really Gets Tharanduil’s Goat)

Dwarf social structure is like… hobbits in reverse. They tend to default to A status, hence their general rowdiness but with strict codes of conduct to help manage conflict. They’re just these huge roving groups of A’s just rough-and-tumbling around their one O. dogpiles are peak pod bonding. aaaaand the alpha reek kind of tends to make them all a little noseblind.

Poor Bilbo.

Lucky, Lucky Bilbo.

But also poor, poor Bilbo.

Most dwarf Royals go O, but Thorin hadn’t been O since he was 24 and got chased out of Erebor by that pesky dragon.

Dwarf “reefs” and “pods” have their own terms in Khuzdul that do not translate well but have to do with crystal growth. Rough translations are “lattices” and “cells” (Hence the hexagon aesthetic)

Wizards Have No Designation. They Smell Like Gunpowder and Lightning. It Is Very Disturbing For Everyone Around Them.

A

N

Y

W

A

Y

Give me EveryoneLives!au Hobbit stuff. Bilbo trying to homely up the lonely mountain! Thorin going O and chilling the fuck out as a result! 

Give me fellowship!pod!! Aragorn is the diplomat! Pippin is the wild child! Gimli is the Adventurer! Frodo is the peacekeeper! Boromir is the den mother!

How Much More Heartrending is the Breaking of the Fellowship if the fellowship was a pod????

and then you’ve got the fractured podlings: Merry and Pippin bonding hard with their new Rohan and Gondor stress-pods. Sam going A to protect Frodo from Gollum while Frodo tries to adopt this weird frog into their pod. The Three Hunters as Nick, Nora and Nelson (Gimli is Nick, Leggy is Nora, Aragorn is Nelson.)

Give me post-war Legolas and Aragorn and Gimli (and Arwen too) breaking cultural boundaries and proving that yes! Interracial Pods Can Work! these differences are cultural, and cultures can be melded! nothing wrong with this! if half-elves exist and can have kids of their own, then elves and men are not separate species, and I’d bet a significant limb that the same is true of all the other races so

GIVE IT TO ME

ok i gotta stop now.

...

yeah there’s probably a star trek one of these coming too

kill me

(And hey jhscdood I’m not saying you have to come back at me with more lotr clownfish or ocean’s 11/Star Wars/M*A*S*H/Leverage/West Wing/whatever clownfish But I would certainly consider it a Fair Exchange if you did. MORE INSTITUTIONALIZED SOFTISM. MAXIMUM SOFT FISH FRIENDS.)

[lordgrimwing]

Nightie, our abo au wishes it had the kind of drip ‘Finwe Polyamory Comedy’ has.

On the one hand, I have quite complicated feelings about Silm AUs given how intricately interwoven everything is and how every slightest change tends to muddle everything up.

On the other hand... I really want to know how Lúthien would have gotten on with Fëanor if they had ever met. (Assuming a Fëanor at his best, not at his most angry and paranoid.)

Especially since they're nearly the same age (and can be exactly so, seeing how Lúthien's birthyear is given somewhat approximately, and the timelines are wonky anyway.)

[arofili]

Innumerable Stars 2021 Letter

Hello lovely creator, thanks for writing for me in Innumerable Stars 2020! I’m very excited and grateful for whatever you create for me <3

This letter will restate my DNWs, list my likes, give you a brief rundown of my canon preferences, and then dive into specific prompts for each of my requests. I’ll warn you upfront that I tend to ramble, so feel free to skip prompts that don’t interest you and/or use ctrl+F to search for whatever it is you want to write for. I’ve named each of my requests based on the basic idea within it, so hopefully that will be helpful for you!

~

Housekeeping

DNWs:

non-con/dub-con

ABO (heat fic is fine)

food involved in sex

abusive/neglectful parenting (especially not with Fëanor; Eöl is the only exception, but even then don’t dwell on it)

sibling incest and parent-child incest (cousin incest is fine)

unhappy/unhopeful endings (unless requested)

jealousy

possessiveness EXCEPT with Russingon, for some reason I love it with those two

cheating

character or ship bashing

hanahaki or any scenario where unrequited love is physically damaging

soulmates, especially soulmate AUs BUT soul bonds are excellent as long as there is an element of choice involved

unrequested modern AU

non-trans mpreg

if you are writing a slash ship where the characters are/were married to/involved with someone outside of the ship in canon, please don’t have the character(s) hate their spouse or not have been actually in love with them. The only exception to this is Finrod; I’m fine with him and Amárië not having been actually in love, but don’t do this for anyone else, especially not Fëanor.

Hobbit/LOTR-specific DNWs:

the concept of a dwarven “One”

any Fíli pairing, even in reference

Alfrid

Legolas or Gimli paired with anyone other than each other

mortals dying super quickly in Valinor

unrequested smut

Silm-specific DNWs:

evil/irredeemable/incel Maeglin

Elwing bashing

Fëanorian bashing

over-the-top Fëanorian apologism (they did bad stuff; it was at least partially their fault. you don’t have to address that, necessarily, but don’t rewrite the story to claim they were blameless)

Fingon with a wife

Fingon or Maedhros ships that don’t take Russingon into account (polyamory, an open relationship, Mae with someone after Finno dies or vice versa for an AU, them with other people while they’re separated on the Ice/in Angband - all of these scenarios are fine, but in the end I need them to be with each other first and foremost)

dark!Maedhros

elvish re-embodiment after death being an actual, literal rebirth that requires the characters to have a second childhood; I much prefer them being granted a new hröa in their prime (feel free to explore what “in their prime” means, though, especially wrt scarred and disabled elves)

~

Likes:

queer headcanons, especially aromantic-spectrum headcanons & trans/nonbinary headcanons

trans/nonbinary pregnancy and parenthood

found family

queerplatonic relationships

kidfic

angst with a happy ending

gray morality

explorations of magic

most tropes

fanon and fandom tropes

deconstruction/inversion of fanon and fandom tropes

secret relationships

secret kids (especially secret peredhil)

giving ships OC kids

confessions of love

first times

hurt/comfort

redemption, forgiveness, mercy

ironic foreshadowing

canon divergence AUs and X Lives AUs

fairy tale AUs

politics and scheming

resolving conflicting canonical details

names fitting the time period (Quenya names in Valinor, please; if this is difficult for you, that’s okay, no pressure, but I do strongly prefer it)

choice of character names having a lot of thought put behind them (does the character go back to their original Quenya name upon rebirth? or do they keep their Sindarin name? or come up with something else entirely? do they hate their new Sindarin name and resent having to use it, or do they embrace it? As long as you put some thought into it, I’m sure I’ll like whatever you decide!)

author’s notes where you explain your thought process, if you want; I love hearing how the story took shape!

~

Preferences re: canon:

LaCE compliance is always completely optional. If you do want to include it, that’s great, but if you just want the characters to fuck without having that be an issue, go for it. I love explorations of LaCE that take into account the exceptions, boundaries, definitions, etc; I also love takes that emphasize that they are Laws and Customs, not biological imperatives.

I’m not picky about my Amrod deaths. He can die at either Losgar or Sirion (or, hell, some other time/place if you make it interesting enough!), whatever works best for the story. I do like Lightly Toasted Amrod, aka he almost burns to death at Losgar but survives/gets rescued at the last minute.

Gil-galad theories are all very fun. Please don’t make him the son of Fingon and a wife; if he’s Fingon’s son, I want Maedhros to be involved at least a little bit (adoption or trans mpreg are both fine in this scenario). Otherwise, I don’t have a particular preference, though if it’s not really relevant I usually default to the son of Orodreth (who is in turn the son of Angrod).

Honestly, when it comes to theories and headcanons, my rule of thumb is “convince me”! I’m down for whatever, for the most part, as long as you can justify it :)

~~~

LOTR Books Request

Gigolas tags: Gimli, Legolas, Group: Gimli & Legolas, Group: Gimli/Legolas, Group: Gimli/Legolas & Glóin, Group: Gimli/Legolas & Thranduil, Group: Legolas & Aragorn & Gimli, Group: Glóin & Thranduil, Original Dwarf of Aglarond, Original Elf of Ithilien Suggested worldbuilding tags: Battle of Dale, Differences in Elvish & Dwarvish Histories, Fall of Dol Guldur, Interspecies Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, Rebuilding of Ithilien

All Gigolas is good Gigolas, and you can quote me on that - but I do have a soft spot for queerplatonic Gigolas, and I might die of happiness if you wrote me some :) I love elf/dwarf relationships, and cultural differences leading to miscommunication is one of my favorite tropes for this ship.

For the “& Thranduil” and “& Glóin” I’d love to see some “telling the family” scenarios, with Thranduil and Glóin coming to terms with their sons’ relationship. For “& Aragorn” I was imagining a Three (or Four, if you want to keep Boromir alive!) Hunters situation with Aragorn third wheeling them (and/or commiserating with Boromir about how terrible their friends are at expressing their feelings).

I’m very interested in Legolas and Gimli’s new homes post-War, how much time they spent visiting each other and how much time they spent apart, etc. I would love to see an outside POV of Gigolas, what their friends and subordinates think of this odd couple; perhaps an elf of Ithilien and a dwarf of Aglarond strike up a friendship and gossip about their lords! I’d also be interested in Gimli and Legolas visiting their original homes, meeting one another’s parents, and helping rebuild after the Battle of Dale / Fall of Dol Guldur.

I would also love to see an exploration of dwarf/elf relationships and the difficulties that would arise from that. Legolas’ father is a Sinda of Doriath who remembers the Battle of the Thousand Caves, and I headcanon that Gimli’s mother is descended from the dwarves of Nogrod who were involved in that debacle, so them coming to terms with that difficult history (and how that history differs) between their peoples would be really interesting.

~

Gildor Inglorion

...okay, so this is technically a Silm request dressed up as a LOTR request, but I would really love to see an exploration of Gildor’s origins! I have a few concepts for how he can be  “of the House of Finarfin,” mostly relating to this Inglor figure who is his father. I think Inglor was either the son of Finrod and trans!Bëor (and thus the first peredhel) or the son of Aegnor and Andreth; either way, he was raised mostly by Finrod. But who is Inglor’s spouse/Gildor’s other parent? (Edrahil, maybe?) How did Gildor survive the Fall of Nargothrond, or was he born afterwards? Where did he live in the Third Age? Who was awaiting him when he arrived in Aman?

~

Took Fairy Wife

I think this concept is fascinating, and I’d love to hear the story of a hobbit/elf romance! Perhaps Pippin or Frodo tell this story to the Fellowship? I also have the headcanon that since Durin I “woke alone,” his spouse was also an elf, so maybe Gimli could throw in that legend as well.

~

Group: Last Prince of Cardolan/Lady of the Blue Brooch Suggested worldbuilding tags: Barrow-downs and Barrow-wights, Necromancy and Hauntings, Sentient Weapons & Jewelry

I’ve recently become a little bit obsessed with the concept of the Last Prince and the Lady of the Blue Brooch being star-crossed lovers. We have conflicting accounts of the Last Prince’s demise, and I’d love to see those reconciled into one story; we also know that the Prince was buried in the barrow-downs, where the Lady’s blue brooch was found. How did that end up there - was it a token she gave to him before his death? Did she visit his grave after it was too late? How did Tom and Goldberry know her? Maybe they are the ones to tell this story to some hobbitish traveler through the Old Forest... I do have my own version of this story, if you’d like to borrow some ideas from there, but feel free to make up your own thing too!

~

Group: Eldarion/Elboron

I just think they’re cute :) I like the idea that Eldarion’s heir is not his own child, but the child of one of his sisters, and that Elboron had a sister who was the parent of Barahir of Ithilien, so these two can be gay together. Of course, you could also make one of them trans and have Eldarion’s heir and Barahir be siblings! Or you can explore the beginnings of their relationship - just a cute get-together story would be wonderful.

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Worldbuilding: Arwen reforged Narsil

This is such a neat concept - I would love to see Fëanorian Arwen (bc Kidnap Dads) going full smith mode and personally reforging Narsil into Andúril for her boyfriend. Arwen embracing her dual kinship as both the descendant of Lúthien and the descendant of Maedhros and Maglor would be amazing (especially if Maglor is hanging around in Rivendell). Bonus points if Narsil used to be Maedhros’ sword, and that’s how it got passed down to Elros!

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Hobbit Movies Request

Kiliel tags: Fíli, Kíli, Tauriel, Group: Fíli & Kíli, Group: Kíli/Tauriel, Group: Kíli/Tauriel & Fíli Suggested worldbuilding tags: Almost Everyone Lives AU, Kíli's Runestone, Worldbuilding: Tauriel goes to Erebor AU

I’m a basic bitch when it comes to Kiliel stuff: give me fluff, give me angst with a mostly-happy ending, give me Fíli being exasperated by his brother’s romantic drama! I would be interested in an AU where Thorin dies but Fíli and Kíli survive, and King Fíli has to deal with Kíli’s love life causing political problems; I’d also love to see an AU where Tauriel goes to Erebor with Kíli, Fíli, Bofur, and Óin after the lakeshore scene. And anything surrounding the magic of Kíli’s runestone would be very welcome - perhaps it really was cursed/enchanted, and by giving it to Tauriel, Kíli lost the protection Dís had placed upon him and passed it to her. What if Tauriel had returned it before the end - would Kíli have lived, and she died? Or, in a canon scenario (in this case, full angst is welcome) what if Tauriel and Dís met and talked about the stone and its properties?

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Hilda Bianca

I just think she’s neat. I’d love to see her getting involved in the politics of a rebuilt Dale, either collaborating with or causing problems for Bard. Her being a mentor figure for Sigrid and Tilda would also be great.

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Book of Lost Tales Request

Group: Ómar & Salmar

Ómar Amillo and Salmar Lirillo were brothers in early stages of the Legendarium - I would love to see that explored in a more Slim-compliant verse, where they are both Maiar. Ómar could be a Maia of Ulmo, like Salmar is, or a Maia of some other Vala. Music and water are intrinsically connected in Arda’s makeup, so Ómar as a being of song and Salmar as a being of water would be really cool to see explored somehow!

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Meril-i-Turinqi

Another really neat character!! I headcanon that she is the child of a grandson of Olwë and a granddaughter of Ingwë. How did she rise to power on Tol Eressëa? What are her relationships with her great-grandfathers? Is she friends with other influential elf-women - perhaps Elenwë or Amárië or Galadriel?

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Silm Requests Russingon Request

Russingon tags: Maedhros, Fingon, Group: Fingon/Maedhros, Original Character from Himring, Group: Fingon/Finrod/Maedhros Suggested worldbuilding tags: Elven Gender Constructs, Hair and customs/kinks around it, LaCE as a social construct, Melotorni & Meletheldi, Onnalúmë

Russingon is my OTP, I just love them a lot!! I adore both plot-heavy explorations of their characters and relationship and more slice-of-life fluff/angst/porn stuff without any particular story behind it. If I need comfort fic this pairing is my go-to, and I’d love to have more of that to come back to. PWP would be welcome; plot is also excellent and I’m sure to enjoy that too. I’m always a sucker for falling in love / confessions of love / first times, but ESPECIALLY for Russingon; the beginning of their love story is something I’ll never get tired of. Established relationship, reunions (after the Ice/Angband or after time spent apart in Hithlum/Himring or after leaving the Halls or another scenario) are also amazing. The secret relationship aspect of this ship is very fun, both keeping things secret and having their secret come to light. If you wanted to invert that trope, though, I would definitely enjoy that; something like a fake dating AU or an arranged marriage AU or a situation where they get pregnant and have to tell people. It would also be great to see them trying (and failing) to keep their relationship a secret while they are in Beleriand - outsider POV from a resident of Himring would be great here! I like scenarios where they’re married, and I like scenarios where they’re not married, whichever floats your boat will be excellent. Honestly, I’m likely to enjoy almost any Russingon content you write; I just… *clenches fist* love them… If you wanted to explore a queerplatonic interpretation of them that would be really cool, but I do love love love romantic/sexual Russingon and would be overjoyed to have any content about them! In my DNW I mentioned that I don’t like the concept of soulmates (for Aro Reasons) so please steer clear of that, but having Mae and Finno choose each other over and over again and that affecting their soul bond/mental connection might just bring me to tears ;-;

I adore Fingon on his own - he’s brave and valiant and good-hearted and deserved better ;-; If you wanted to write a Fingon-focused story that touches on his time as a prince or a king or adjusting to re-embodied life in Valinor or his relationships with people other than Maedhros, I am sure to love that.

Maedhros is probably my favorite character in the Silm. I love his character arc, the fire symbolism, his trauma and recovery, his relationship with his brothers and his cousins, his time helping Maglor care for Elrond and Elros - really all of his story. For this exchange I’d rather not receive a fic focused on his time in Angband or his death; I can enjoy fics about that, but I’m looking for something a bit happier here. Art of Maedhros in those situations would be okay.

When it comes to throwing Finrod into the mix with Russingon, what I’m really looking for is some smut, tbh. Maedhros and Fingon are ridiculously in love, and Finrod is a bit of a hoe, and I can’t believe there wasn’t at least one time they had a threesome. Finrod getting fucked by both of them at once would be excellent. Finrod is canonically friendly with the Fëanorians in Beleriand and goes hunting with Maglor and Maedhros, maybe this is a time where it’s Fingon instead of Maglor and they fuck in the woods, or Maedhros and Fingon visit Nargothrond, or Maedhros and Finrod visit Barad Eithel, or Fingon and Finrod visit Himring. Is this a planned encounter? Something spontaneous? Is Finrod seducing them both, or are they inviting him in? Did Maedhros and Finrod have a fling in Valinor, or did Finrod and Fingon find comfort together on the Ice, or both? I’d love to see where you take this!

When it comes to the worldbuilding tags, I’d love to see an exploration of gender and sexuality in relation to Russingon. I adore trans depictions of both Maedhros and Fingon, so that would be extremely welcome - you can also explore how elvish gender concepts differ from our understanding of gender and transness (I mused about that a bit in this post, along with thoughts on elvish naming traditions, if you’re looking for inspiration). LaCE is such a tricky topic, and I would definitely be interested in Mae and Finno experimenting sexually and discovering what is and isn’t biological about those concepts, and what is actually a cultural construct the elves have adhered to over time. Hair customs (what braids mean, hair coverings, etc) are really interesting - and a GREAT opportunity to include some hair kink! I mean, Finno has those gold braids and Mae’s name “Russandol” refers to his hair, I bet they are into each other’s hair.

Regarding the concept of melotorni, I can easily see that as either gay-coding or queerplatonic love; I’d love to see either or both those options explored with Russingon. (As for meletheldi, I mean, if you wanted to make them girls I would be super down for that too. I’m okay with genderbending, though I do prefer trans/nb headcanons, and I definitely don’t want them genderbent to be “straight.”) And as for Onnalúmë - well, that’s just heat fic, isn’t it? ;)

The bottom line for Russingon is that I Love Them and they love each other, and for this request I’d love PWP, fluff, hurt/comfort, falling in love, getting together, reunion, established relationship - really almost anything with them would absolutely make my day!

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Russingon & kids tags: Gil-galad, Erien, Group: Erien & Gil-galad, Group: Fingon/Maedhros & Erien, Group: Fingon/Maedhros & Erien & Gil-galad, Group: Fingon/Maedhros & Gil-galad, Group: Erien & Faniel Suggested worldbuilding tags: Elven Naming Traditions, improbable parentages for Gil-Galad

The only thing I love more than Russingon is Russingon with KIDS!! I’m a sucker for Russingon as the fathers of Gil-galad, and recently I’ve decided to adopt Erien, a discarded daughter of Fingon, into my personal canon as a Russingon daughter. Exploring either Gil or Erien’s relationship with their dads would be wonderful - and, if they exist in the same universe, their relationship with each other!! (I recently wrote a novel-length fic about Erien being Tauriel, if you’d like to borrow some concepts from there, but that’s certainly not my “usual” interpretation of either of them so feel free to make up your own Erien origin story too!) I was very excited to see that someone else nominated an Erien relationship - Erien and Faniel is a great concept! I usually headcanon Faniel as the daughter of Findis and Elemmírë and the younger sister of Glorfindel, but if you have a different origin story for her that would be really neat as well. Discarded Finwëan daughters ftw! Russingon having kids would be a great place to explore elven naming traditions, how gay elves would name their kids (two father-names??), and maybe the Fëanorian tradition of -finwë names :p I definitely selected the “improbable parentages for Gil-galad” with trans!Russingon in mind, but if you’ve got another situation (that one fic where Finrod, Fingon, and Maedhros do Weird Science with a Maia comes to mind...), be my guest.

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Kidnap Dads tags: Elrond, Group: Elrond & Elros, Group: Elrond & Gil-galad, Group: Maglor & Maedhros & Elrond & Elros Suggested worldbuilding tags: Choice of the Peredhil

I threw in Kidnap Dads into this request as well :) I firmly believe this relationship was, in the end, mostly a positive one despite the rocky beginning - I don’t want to see E&E hating M&M, and I also don’t want to see them resenting their birth parents either (however, their bio parents interacting with their foster parents in awkward/humorous situations would be great). Fluff would be wonderful, but some post-WoW angst would be welcome as well. Elrond and Gil-galad Russingonion considering each other brothers because of their shared father Maedhros is a favorite headcanon of mine! I really would love to see a focus on Maedhros and the E twins; Maglor can of course be involved, but I’m more interested in Maedhros as a character.

Some possible scenarios: an official adoption ceremony, cultural differences, M&M giving E&E some more names / teaching them Quenya, sharing traditions, Maedhros teaching the twins some skill (cooking? swordfighting? embroidery?), the twins being Weird (either because they’re part human or part Maia) and M&M learning to deal with that, Elrond reuniting with Maedhros in Valinor, Elrond getting adopted by M&M’s spouses (Maglor’s spouse and/or Fingon), AU where Maedhros lives and is around for E&E’s later lives

Exploring the Choice of the Peredhil would also be great. How did being raised with M&M affect E&E’s decisions when it came to their Choices of kindred? Were there any Men in the remnants of the Fëanorian host, and did that affect their Choices? 

And since this is technically under the umbrella of the Russingon request, of course Maedhros telling E&E about his husband would be amazing. (And quite probably heartbreaking, too...)

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Maeglin Request

Reminder that I am not at all interested in irredeemable/evil Maeglin; I am a known Maeglin sympathizer and I will not apologize for that.

Maeglin & Fëanorians tags: Maeglin, Group: Dwarves & Maeglin, Group: Caranthir & Dwarves & Maeglin, Group: Maeglin & Fëanorians Suggested worldbuilding tags: Cross-Species Mentorships, Differences between Dwarf craft and Elf craft, Elven magic and art and technology, Maeglin Adopted by Fëanorians AU

I would adore an AU where Maeglin is adopted by the Fëanorians!! Maybe Maeglin escapes to Himring instead of Gondolin after his capture, and Maedhros helps him deal with Angband trauma? (I know that doesn’t really make sense timeline wise, you figure out the details, lmao. Maybe it’s actually taking place in Ossiriand, idk, or the timelines get moved around.) Otherwise, I’d love to see a younger Maeglin interacting with the Three Cs and dwarves!! A focus on craft and smithing would be wonderful, in that scenario.

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Maeglin in Gondolin tags: Turgon, Group: Anairë & Maeglin, Group: Fingolfin & Maeglin, Group: Eärendil & Maeglin, Group: Idril & Maeglin, Group: Idril/Maeglin/Tuor, Group: Maeglin & Rôg Suggested worldbuilding tags: Metal Dragons

I think Maeglin’s relationship with emotionally repressed Turgon was difficult because of miscommunication, but they did love and care for one another. A version of events where Idril and Maeglin were friends before she found out about his feelings for her, or where they can work through that, would be really interesting to read. I love the idea of Maeglin begrudgingly coming to love Eärendil even though he’s Tuor’s child; I think that Eärendil’s mithril coat was made by Maeglin as a precaution against himself and the curse Morgoth placed upon him (I also think this is the origin of Bilbo’s mithril coat). Rôg is usually depicted as an Angband escapee; him noticing something wrong with Maeglin and figuring out about his capture would be a great story. Idril/Maeglin/Tuor is a great concept, especially Maeglin being upset about Idril and Tuor’s marriage because he’s in love with both of them - a threesome where finally gets what he wants (and some consensual rough treatment??) would be excellent. Also, some post-reembodiment fic where Maeglin gets to meet his grandparents would be amazing!! As for the metal dragons, some focus on Maeglin’s craft combined with the magics of Sauron and Morgoth would be really interesting. I would prefer if it Maeglin’s time in Angband was Pretty Bad (though I’d rather not have torture depicted on the page), and show him struggling with the excitement of being able to bring these incredible creations to life versus the knowledge that Sauron and Morogth can and will abuse him to get what they want. I’m not particularly interested in a sympathetic portrayal of Sauron and Morgoth.

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Maeglin, Túrin, and Tyelpë tags: Túrin, Group: Celebrimbor/Maeglin, Group: Turin & Anglachel, Group: Maeglin & Anguirel, Group: Maeglin/Túrin Suggested worldbuilding tags: Bedazzling as a love language, Celebrimbor forging Gurthang, Sentient Weapons & Jewelry

OKAY so Maeglin/Turin is my rarepair OTP and I would absolutely die of happiness if you wrote this ship! For this request I’m envisioning a scenario where Maeglin goes to Nargothrond and that’s where he encounters Túrin. I’m also interested in Maeglin/Tyelpe, so throwing him into the mix would be fabulous. One of my favorite aspects of this ship is Maeglin and Túrin’s connections to Anguirel and Anglachel, so having them bond over that (maybe a literal bond...like a soul bond or something???? enforced by the semi-sentient swords??) would be excellent. I definitely believe Celebrimbor was the one to reforge Anglachel into Gurthang, so that could be a way of getting him involved. (Him ~bedazzling~ the sword as a way of flirting with Túrin would be hilarious; or just smiths bedazzling their creations to impress each other in general, lmao.) It’s also quite likely that in this scenario that Maeglin arrived in Nargothrond with Celegorm, Curufin, and Celebrimbor (and possibly Aredhel, though I was kind of envisioning her as dead in this scenario, RIP - or otherwise not present, much like how C&C have been banished by the time Túrin shows up), so he would have a preexisting relationship with Tyelpë. Maybe they broke up? Maybe they’re awkwardly pining and Túrin is what brings them together? Or some other situation. This ship is doomed no matter how you twist it, and so digging into the dramatic irony of it all would be delicious; happy endings are optional for this request.

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Maeglin & Aredhel in Himlad & Nargothrond tags: Aredhel, Group: Aredhel & Oromë, Group: Celegorm/Aredhel & Maeglin & Curufin & Celebrimbor, Group: Curufin/Finrod & Celebrimbor Suggested worldbuilding tags: Aredhel and Maeglin Remain in Himlad, Aromantic Aredhel

This is kind of similar to the previous request, but with a focus on Aredhel, Celegorm, and Curufin as well as Maeglin and Celebrimbor. I would love an AU where Maeglin and Aredhel go to Himlad instead of Gondolin, and eventually end up in Nargothrond - I really can’t get enough of this concept! What happens with Eöl; does Curufin actually kinslay him this time? How do Maeglin and Tyelpë get along? My Aredhel is always aromantic, but I do ship her and Celegorm as FWB (though maybe Celegorm’s caught feelings somewhere along the line...) - how does Maeglin feel about her rekindling that relationship? I’d definitely be interested in a story about Celebrimbor being a Curufinrod baby (trans!Curvo ftw), so that would make returning to Nargothrond extra tense and emotional. As for Aredhel and Oromë, I have this headcanon that Anairë gave all her children Valar-related mother-names, and that Aredhel was named Írissë Aldarindë after Oromë Aldaron. How does she feel about that name and her connection to Oromë? I don’t think she ever actually joined his Hunt like Celegorm did; why is that? Did Celegorm discourage because he’d adopted his father’s anti-Valar sentiment and left the Hunt? Did she just get involved too late, and then the Darkening happened? How do her and Celegorm’s relationships with their patron Vala differ in Beleriand? I think they were both Kinslayers at Alqualondë, but Celegorm is bound by the Oath and Aredhel isn’t - how does that affect things? Can Aredhel and Maeglin’s presence change how Finrod’s demise goes down? All sorts of fascinating things you could explore!

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Misc. Silm Request

Cuiviénen tags: Original Awakened Elf of Cuiviénen (Silm) Suggested worldbuilding tags: In-universe Origins of LaCE, LaCE as a Horror Concept, LaCE as a social construct, LaCE-compliant soulbonding, Non-romantic/sexual Soul Bonds

I’d love to see an exploration of how LaCE came to be, which parts of the rules around marriage and children and re-embodiment are social constructs and which are innate to the fëa and hröa, and/or relationships that defy the norms. If your take on the laws is hetero/cisnormative, how does that affect queer elves? If your take is free of bigotry, what are the flexibilities around queerness, including asexuality and aromanticism? Laws and customs and rules always have loopholes and exceptions, so what do elves who don’t fit into the expected relationship mold do about these norms?

How do soul bonds work on a metaphysical level? Can they be broken? Do they have to be nurtured and maintained? What’s long-distance communication like? Heck, what’s short-distance communication like, is it like talking in your mind or sharing your feelings or more abstract than that? Can elves form soul bonds with mortals? And most importantly—how did elves figure out they could soul bond with one another?? I can imagine that would be quite a shock when they’re discovering sex and then suddenly they’re inside each other’s minds! This could easily be tied into the “LaCE as Horror” tag; especially if the characters were not expecting it or the bond was being abused. (If you do decide to explore abuse, I would prefer you use OCs rather than canon characters, unless you want to write Eöl abusing Aredhel or Sauron abusing Celebrimbor. In any case, please be careful with that kind of relationship, I am quite sensitive to abuse in fiction even if I am interested in this subject.)

For non-romantic and/or non-sexual soul bonds: Explore sibling bonds, twin bonds, parent-child bonds, queerplatonic bonds, found family bonds, adoption bonds, the bond between a Vala and their Maia…any kind of soul bond that is familial or platonic or chosen without regard to romance! (Feel free to take a canon romantic relationship and turn it queerplatonic, I live for that shit!) How are these bonds formed outside of sex? What are the rituals and ceremonies around forming them? Is it a public or private thing? Are non-romantic soul bonds taken seriously, or are they seen as less important than marriage bonds? Since elven parents literally give part of their soul in the creation of the child, is that parent-child bond innate? What are traditions around elven adoption? Are there soul bonds created between the adoptive parents and children? Was adoption even a thing in Aman, or is it only practiced in Middle-earth? Did elves adopt mortals and vice versa? Is adoption extended to found family other than a parent-child situation? How is adoption viewed by elvish society, especially if inheritance/succession is a concern?

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Turgoldo tags: Group: Finrod/Turgon, Group: Mariners send by Turgon to Aman Suggested worldbuilding tags: Songs of Power

This is my rarepair to end all rarepairs tbh. I honestly don’t know why these two are not shipped more! I am desperate for any and all content with them, I am not picky at all, I just love them.

Fun times in Aman before things get dark and serious would be lovely, I think in that context their relationship would be more casual (or at least they’re trying to make it casual and that leads to hurt feelings). I’d rather not focus on their relationships with their canon love interests, mostly because I’m not a fan of stories about jealousy (also because I see both Finrod and Amarië as gay and together mostly for convenience’s sake AND/OR they’re in a queerplatonic relationship, not a romantic/sexual one), but I do ship Elenwë/Amarië so those two having some sort of polyamorous arrangement with Finrod and Turgon could be fun. But feel free to just ignore any of that and depict Finrod and Turgon together without their respective ladies!

If you go into Beleriand times, I like: Turgon grieving Elenwë and finding solace with Finrod; whatever went down that night by the river they never wanted to talk about again; helping each other build their hidden kingdoms; Finrod sneaking into Gondolin maybe??; repressed Turgon being angsty about discovering his bisexuality and Finrod either helping him or making things more complicated; Finrod missing Turgon and trying to distract himself in Nargothrond (maybe in combination with another Finrod ship? honestly I ship Finrod with any dude that moves, feel free to put your own spin on his relationships, though I would prefer a focus on Turgon/Finrod for this request). Post-reembodiment scenarios would also be great.

Or maybe you want to do an AU with them! Supernatural creatures? Some other fantasy setting? A space opera? Honestly the only AU I wouldn’t be interested in is a modern AU, I’m very picky with my Silm Modern AUs. Honestly like I said earlier, I would love ANY content with Finrod and Turgon, you’d make me very happy if you depicted them together!! Feel free to ignore any of the stuff I said if you’ve got a better idea!!

Regarding the mariners sent to Aman: maybe Turgon is trying to pass a message along to a re-embodied Finrod along with the general cry for help to the Valar? And for “Songs of Power” I was thinking about Finrod’s rap battle with Sauron, and if there was any precedent for him being musically/magically powerful before then that Turgon could have witnessed.

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Misc. worldbuilding tags: HoME/UT backstories and events that contradict the Silm, Dragons hunted for their leather, Ossiriand and the Laiquendi

I love incorporating other drafts of stories into the “main” version of the Silm! Please feel free to tweak early concepts to fit the later Legendarium, and definitely explain yourself in the author’s notes, I love that shit.

I can totally see dragons or adventurous Avari hunting dragons for their hides. You could also maybe explore this with the corpse of Smaug in the Long Lake; dwarves harvesting scales as a precious resource, or something?

In writing my recent Tauriel longfic I came to love the Laiquendi of Ossiriand. I’d love to see a nuanced exploration of their cultures - who were their leaders after Denethor? Were they really all nonviolent, or did some fight in self-defense or choose to join the Union of Maedhros? What was their relationship with the Fëanorians, both before and after the Nírnaeth? Do they consider themselves Avari? Do other elves consider them Avari?

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Númenor Request

Early Númenor tags: Group: Elros/Elros's Wife (Silm)

Idk, I just think they’re cute. I have an OC for Elros’ wife that I love, and it would be awesome if you wrote something with her! Or you can use your own OC, whatever you’d like :)

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Late Númenor tags: Group: Amandil & Ar-Pharazon & Tar-Míriel, Group: Inzilbêth & Tar-Míriel, Group: Míriel & Tar-Míriel, Group: Elwing & Tar-Míriel Suggested worldbuilding tags: Númenórean Settlements in Middle-earth, Peredhil Heritage in Numenor’s art & culture (Silm)

Amandil, Pharazôn, and Míriel’s childhood friendship is really interesting to me (especially if you throw in Elentír as well!). Would love to see how that dynamic changes over time, Pharazôn’s time conquering in Middle-earth, and their varying opinions about their heritage as the descendants of peredhil. I’m not really interested in portrayals of Pharazôn and Míriel’s relationship as healthy or even consensual; I’d rather you didn’t dwell too much on the abusive aspect, but even when I incorporate the story of Elentír I like to preserve the narrative present in the Silm where Pharazôn takes Míriel to wife against her will.

I never really thought much about Inzilbêth and Míriel, but now I definitely am! How does Míriel feel about her faithful grandmother? I see Míriel as not particularly faithful in the Valar, not like her father, but more politically against the King’s Men; does Inzilbêth try to instill faith into her granddaughter like she did her son?

I’m not sure how Míriel Þerindë or Elwing would interact with Tar-Míriel (perhaps Míriel Þerindë weaves her story? or they meet in Mandos before Tar-Míriel leaves to receive the Gift of Men? - maybe Elwing watches over her descendants from Eärendil’s ship, or flies to visit Númenor before its fall?) but I’m now interested in how that might happen, and what kinds of advice they would pass on to her. Also, if you go with Tar-Míriel and Míriel Þerindë, I’d love to see a silver-haired Tar-Míriel to mirror Þerindë! (also, “fairer than silver or ivory or pearls” makes a great image for a silver-haired Tar-Míriel)

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Tar-Silmariën AU tags: Worldbuilding: Silmariën Becomes Queen of Númenor AU

GOSH everything would have been SO different if she had been able to rule! Would her descendants have been corrupted like her brother’s? Would Aldarion and Erendis’ marriage end so badly if he didn’t have the pressure of kingship? If the roles in the Amandil-Pharazôn-Míriel dynamic were reversed, how would that change things? Would Sauron get involved? There are SO many directions you could take this, I’d love to see any of them!

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Alright, that’s the end of my prompts/requests! Thanks for reading this far, and whatever you end up writing for me I am super excited to read it!! And if you have questions or ideas or something, my askbox is open and I have anon messages on, I’d love to talk! Thank you again for creating for me, you are the best! <3

[lordgrimwing]

“Elrond, this is what I’m talking about.” Gil-galad’s voice resonated with exasperation as he hiked up his robe to follow the healer up the staircase. “You can’t do these kinds of things to me. My heart! Think of what this does to my heart! You can’t expect me to handle a meeting with High Prince Finrod every other weekend and not die an early death.”

Elrond—very responsibly—just kept climbing up the spiral staircase to a higher level of the Halls of Healing. 

“For the love of the gods,” his former patron huffed when they finally reached a landing, “please give me a heads up next time. I can’t do damage control when the first I’m hearing of it is in the summons before the Council. Especially when Celebrían isn’t around for back up.”

Celebrían, ever delightful, ever enchanting, made for excellent back up, being both the head of Elrond’s family and a Teleri princess (and Finrod’s niece). Unfortunately, she’d been away since the whole scandal with the Avari elf came to light and Gil-galad hadn’t been able to rely on her to keep some kind of reign on their husband’s excessive goodwill at home or in public. He wasn’t cut out to do it all on his own anymore.

They were in Elrond’s cluttered office before he got an answer.

Rummaging in the cupboards between clinking glass bottles for who knew what, he said, “This was blown entirely out of proportion.”

Gil-galad’s eyes bulged as he sputtered, “Out of proportion? El, the man stripped naked in the street and demanded a duel to the death! I don’t think the response is out of proportion.”

Elrond found what he was looking for and straightened up to look at him, bottle in hand. “Glorfindel is adapting to an entirely foreign culture, and he’s doing surprisingly well. Besides, Erestor is sure he didn’t intend to kill Parmawë if they fought.” He tapped a finger against the sealed bottle. “Now, if you’re worried about your heart, I suggest you add this to your tea and avoid eating sweets.”

“Uncalled for,” Gil-galad said but took the vial of semi-translucent liquid. “Did you really drag me all the way up here to get something for my heart?”

“No,” Elrond said and scooped several dishes of powders into his medical bag. “I came up here to get something for Erestor but that helps with anxiety which I’m sure is the cause of your heart palpitations.”

Gil-galad scoffed but pocketed the vial anyway, just in case. 

[lordgrimwing]

To his shock and horror, Gil-galad has just been reminded that Elrond grew a second set of teeth at some point.

[lordgrimwing]

Word Find WIP Meme

Tagged by @thescrapwitch, which I am very thankful for because this looks fun, but also I am becoming suspicious that you're just trying to get more peeks at the Old Gods WIP since it's taking so long. (but of course, who wouldn't when I write like a snail?)

The rules: I've been assigned four words to find in my WIPs, and I assign four new words for anyone I tag.

I'm looking for music, shadow, flower, and sword. (none of them are in my OG wip, so I must go further afield)

Music

[I kid you not, I can't fin this in any WIP]

Shadow

“Look, just come up and we’ll work this out. I’ll pull you out if I have to but I won’t be inclined to deal with you kindly if you make me do that.” He glared down into the depths. If the unwelcome visitor was an elf, they should be able to see his expression just fine and he wanted them to know he was serious. A moment passed, then, “You might have to,” whispered softly up to him. “What?” He squinted into the black hole. More sliding and shuffling, and now he could see something moving below him. “I fell,” the shadow said hesitantly. “I can’t get up.”

Flower

“Do you have a bathing room?” Erestor asked over Elrond’s shoulder. They had to walk in single file, the hall was so narrow. The girl looked over her shoulder. “Not so much a room, but we’ve a bath near the stable. The water’s pumped up from a hot spring. No extra fee to use it, but for just half a copper, my father can wash and style your hair. Or cut, if you want,” she added as an afterthought, looking at Elrond. “We have flower oils from the east that none of the salons around here have.”  “Thanks for letting us know,” Elrond said before Erestor could bluntly reject the sales pitch.

Sword

The orcs scatter as Glorfindel turns Asfaloth about for another pass. Black blood streaks his sword and the stallion’s hide. There is red blood, too, streaming down Asfaloth’s right foreleg from a gash on his chest.

Enjoy the smattering of random WIPs.

I shall tag @hellofeanor, @runawaymun, @tethysresort, and @littleoldrachel (always an open invite to anyone else, too)

Look for the words Horse, Oil, Shuffle, and Black.

[lordgrimwing]

At the Shores of Cuiviénen

(Part 2/3, Part 1, Elwë)

Another little story for March of the Quendi hosted by @march-of-the-noldor. A look at Finwë's attempt to call his family to Valinor.

--

“Laswen! Rinwë!” Finwë shouted to his cousins, waving his hand high to try to get their attention.

The grasses here grew tall and strong while still being supple enough when green to weave into baskets and mats. Laswen and Rinwë (cousins through their aunt’s marriage to his grandfather’s brother) were pulling the grasses up by the roots. They worked slowly, taking care to avoid sliding their skin against the sharp blades as they shook off the soft dirt and piled the plants on a sled. The pile was large already and would be larger still before they dragged it back to the encampment. 

Finwë called their names again as he approached so he would not startle them.

Rinwë looked up first and nudged his older sister.

“Hello, Finwë,” Laswen said, standing to greet him. “Have you come to help? Inwen needs two new fish traps—two! And she asked as though it were some small thing.” She shook her head. “We could use your hands.”

That was not why he walked all the way from the shore, but he turned to the work with ease. “Certainly,” he laughed, taking a handful of grasses from Rinwë to shake off the soil. “Inwen has such terrible luck with her traps, at least her son will be married soon and too busy to accidentally step on them anymore!”

His cousins chuckled their agreement. Inwen’s only son, Irnó, hoped to wed into a family that lived far around the east side of Cuiviénen, far enough that they would only see him occasionally. Everyone agreed it was a good match.

“And you?” Rinwë prodded. “When will you and your sweet Míriel go beyond quiet talks by the fire?”

He looked away from his cousins, studying the dirt and disturbed insects crawling across the harvested grass. “Not while everything is still so uncertain.” 

“Things have never been more certain.” Laswen gestured in an arc before them. “The grass grows thicker and stronger every star cycle. Fish spawn in the streams so dense we scoop them out by hand. Waiting will only risk losing this bounty.”

“This is all temporary,” he said and cast his eyes west. “Have you considered what I said? With you two at my side, great-grandfather could be swayed. We can all go to live among the Valor.”

“You should marry Míriel.”

“You will be happy together.”

He looked at his cousins. They did not look at him. Insects chirped in the grass.

“So, you have decided,” he said at last.

Laswen sighed and finally turned to face him. “You would never convince Eäwë.”

“What you told us of Valinor,” Rinwë said, not meeting his eyes, “sounds like paradise. But we couldn’t get everyone to come, even if Ingwë and Elwë were as convincing as you. We have foreparents who still fear the Valar for their power, siblings who love these lands more than breath itself, and friends and kin around every curve of Cuivienen. They will never leave. How could we ever be happy there, knowing we left parents, children, friends behind here?”

“Better to stay in a good place with our people than leave half of them behind to struggle while we wallow in plenty,” Laswen finished.

Finwë did not look away or close his eyes, but he dearly wished to turn his back so they would not see the pain on his face. He’d been so sure. When Elwë and Ingwë and he left Valinor, they’d felt such a conviction that they’d bring their people back with them. It went beyond hope, beyond faith. Valinor was certain when he left but now, he saw the way back crumbling before him. Would he convince no one?

“Besides—” Rinwë held out another fistful of uprooted grass— “who would gather grass for Inwen’s fish traps if we left?” He said it with a smile and a whisper of laughter, not making light of their decision but trying to lighten the descending disappointment. 

Finwë took the plants but did not smile or joke in return as he used to do. They would not join him to travel to Valinor, and without them, who would come? To the elders, he was still just the unfortunate child—parentless, siblingless—not someone to be taken seriously unless he found others to support his ideas first. Who would follow him, young Finwë, into the great beyond? 

No one.

[lordgrimwing]

At the Shores of Cuiviénen

(Part 1/3, -> part 2)

Another event! Here's my first contribution to the March of the Quendi hosted by @march-of-the-noldor looking at Olwe's reaction to Elwe returned. This is an excellent time to work on the world building for my Silm abo AU.

--

“You are crazed,” Olwë said to his brother by the shore of Cuiviénen.

The water lapped at his toes, inviting him to splash his feet in the shallows as he did as a child. Far around the side of the lake, cooking fires glowed, specks of warm and comforting light marking where his kin and friends lived. Overhead, stars shone in the sky, familiar and comforting through the countless generations of stories woven into them. That was where they belonged: on the shores of Cuiviénen, where their parents were born, where their grandparents were born. This was their home. They did not need to leave; they did not—

“We must go to Valinor,” Elwë said with eyes brightened by something other than starlight. “Valinor is to be our home.”

That had been his brother’s mantra for many star cycles now. He’d thought his twin lost with Finwë and Ingwë when they did not return from gathering mussels that grew in the middle of the water, so far out from the shore that their boat was nothing but a speck that bobbed back and forth where they had anchored it. He’d mourned for him, side by side with Ingwë’s family and Finwë’s friends. He’d thought him lost to the dark hunter or some new monstrous beast come to take the quendi in twos and threes until they once again feared to stray from their encampment. He’d wept and struck at the waters he loved for reflecting the face he’d never see again. He’d known him to be lost, yet he returned.

Ingwë and Finwë and Elwë returned, carried upon a flame too bright to look at, aflame with the same passion, united in a way they’d never been for a thing no quendi wanted. 

He feared his brother was still lost.

“We cannot leave,” he hissed, angry at the bright-eyed creature before him that spoke with his brother’s voice and wore a twisted version of his face. 

“Valinor is a land of beauty and endless peace. There are two trees growing at the foot of the Valar’s throne that share their love and light with all the land—it is like nothing I have ever seen before! The trees were so bright, they were nearly painful to look at until my eyes grew accustomed. There is no hunger or death in Aman. We will be safe there, safe and blessed and watched over by Eru’s grace.”

They would be safe there, would they? Among the kin of the shadow stalker? Under their thumb? He did not think so. How long before their children and friends would start to disappear in twos and threes there, too?

“There is no way for us to get from here to there.” The valar plucked the trio from their boat, if their tale could be believed, and carried them through the sky. They did not set foot beyond the lands they knew were safe, they did not walk into that terrible unknown. “The land stretches on, endless, with nothing but beasts to eat us whole.”

“The Valar will provide a way. They will make the passage safe.”

Of everything, of the strange disappearance, of the miraculous return, of the twisted face that no longer mirrored his own, the thing that scared him the most was Elwë’s faith.

[lordgrimwing]

“And the people who are possessed with spirits, you call them ‘alpha’ and ‘omega’? And those without possession are ‘beta’?” Glorfindel checked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at his instructor.

Erestor, sitting across from him on the picnic blanket, frowned again. “You can frame it like that, I suppose. But no one is possessed by evil spirits. We’re all just people with different needs and desires. No one is dangerous just because of their sex.” 

Glorfindel continued to look unconvinced.

Erestor had spent the afternoon trying to explain the nature of secondary sexes to the strange elf who was quickly becoming his friend. He wasn’t sure how well the endeavor was going, but he’d certainly learned some uncomfortable details about the Avari tribe and the horrific way they dealt with children who presented as alphas. The vivid, puckered scars on Glorfindel’s neck and wrists took on a new meaning over the last several hours. He wished they hadn’t. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. The conversation had become mired down for the last half hour, and he suspected there was little use in trying to push the topic further. Reasoning through superstition wasn’t effective, and he should probably talk with Pengolodh before seriously trying to deconstruct an entire belief system. It would also be a good idea for them to become more familiar with each other’s native language so things were easier to explain.

“At least, don’t try to fight every alpha we meet? And don’t take all your clothes off to do it.” Though Erestor had to admit that proved an effective way of getting the alpha who tried to have a casual conversation to back away. However, it also drew a bit of a crowd. “We’ve caused enough trouble for Elrond, I think.”

Glorfindel considered the request as a line of ants marched toward the crumbs left from their lunch. “I will wait to drive them off until the spirit takes hold of them.”

“Thank you,” because that sounded like some kind of compromise. Then, “Elrond’s married to an alpha, so you’ll need to get used to having one around when she returns.”

“The one who covers himself in so much cloth and always has food? He has no evil spirit,” Glorfindel insisted, confused.

Erestor blinked. “Oh, you mean Gil-galad. No, he’s a beta, you’re right. I mean Elrond’s wife, Celebrían. You haven’t met her yet.” 

It was Glorfindel’s turn to frown and look concerned. Whatever bothered him, he didn’t share it, and Erestor didn’t push. Celebrían wouldn’t be back for a couple weeks, plenty of time for the new house guest to get used to the idea of not chasing her off on sight (hopefully).

[lordgrimwing]

Nesting

Gil-galad hadn’t seen much of Elrond over the last several days. That, in and of itself, wasn’t too unusual; they were both busy people, after all. But he’d spoken to him briefly last night as he was heading to his study after dinner and the apprentice was just getting back from the Hall of Healing. So he knew he’d come back to the house instead of falling asleep in the Hall or (even worse) somewhere along the streets between there and here. He wanted to talk to him about an upcoming gala, one with visiting dignitaries from Doriath, but his friend looked like he was nearly dead on his feet, so he let the moment pass, telling himself they could talk over breakfast the next day—Elrond should have the day off from the Hall if his memory served him, so he should make an appearance at the morning meal, simple as it was.

Which was all well and good, up until he checked his schedule and realized he was supposed to attend the agriculture council this morning. The council always met at a terribly early hour. Honestly, he didn’t even know why he was the one who had to attend, he knew next to nothing about farming or harvesting or anything else related to agriculture beyond the eating of delicious food. He must just be low enough on the peon ladder to get the meetings no one else wanted. The 'why' really didn’t matter because now he had to leave the house hours ahead of schedule and he couldn’t wait for breakfast if he still wanted to talk to Elrond, which he very much did.

So, he went to his room and knocked on the door.

“Elrond,” He called, opening the door. “I apologize for the horribly early visit, but I—” 

He swallowed the rest of his words. The room was empty.

Elrond wasn’t there. In fact, it looked like he hadn’t been there all night: the bed was perfectly made, and the pitcher of water the servants left on the occasional table was completely untouched. The half-elf was generally a very tidy person, but he wasn’t so obsessed with order as to keep things exactly the way he’d found them. Had he not used his room last night?

Puzzled, he stepped out of the room and looked up and down the quiet hall. Where would Elrond sleep if not in his room? This was very peculiar. He should have set the oddity aside and gone to prepare for the council, but if there was one thing he liked, it was sniffing out a good mystery. He began checking the other unused guest rooms.

Fifteen minutes and half a dozen rooms later, he stood outside his own chambers, no closer to finding his wayward friend. Baffled, and slightly concerned, he started toward the stairs down to the kitchen. Perhaps the cook, who always arrived frightfully early, saw Elrond or had some idea for where he might have gone off to.

As he neared the tightly spiraled staircase mostly used by the servants for quick access to different floors, he passed an old closet, hardly used these years except for the occasional guests who brought more than they could keep in their rooms. Gil-galad had no reason to stop here, except that as he passed the door he thought he heard the faint sound of something moving inside. 

He paused. 

Oh, he hoped that wasn’t some animal that decided to move into the unused space. The house really was built for grander affairs than even he could pull together on a regular basis, and it seemed like every few months he heard about another nest of little critters getting relocated after someone found them living in a too-long unused spot. He didn’t particularly want to deal with angry little creatures who’d just had their home disturbed, but if he just continued on, he might forget about it entirely and not ask anyone to look into it later. Steeling his nerves, he put his hand on the little handle and opened the door.

Inside, he was confronted by a mound of blankets and winter clothing twisted together into a mass that managed to keep its shape when the door opened. In the center of the fabrics, nestled comfortably under what looked suspiciously like a tablecloth he'd seen last week, his eyes half hooded and smiling slightly in dreamy content, lay Elrond.

Gil-galad stared at him in open-mouthed surprise. What in all of Middle-earth was he doing sleeping in a closet? He said as much, voice high with shock.

Elrond blinked, his eyes coming back into focus as he shook himself and looked up. His expression quickly changed from profound relaxation to surprise and then embarrassment. He blushed, color rising in his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, uncurling himself in the tight space and sitting up, somehow still looking comfortably nestled in the mound of material. 

“What are you doing in here?” Gil-galad asked. This couldn’t possibly be more comfortable than a bed with a proper mattress. 

“I’m sorry,” He said again, picking up the hem of a garment that looked suspiciously like one of Gil-galad’s winter riding robes which should have been shut away in storage until the weather cooled. He held it up to his chest like some kind of flimsy barrier. “I tried finding someplace where I wouldn’t get in the way.”

“‘Get in the way’?” Gil-galad repeated, baffled. He looked at the pile of fabric, this time realizing that it wasn’t just a randomly thrown-together collection of unused bedding and clothes. It looked, albeit poorly made, like a nest. “Are—Elrond, are you nesting?”

The half-elf blushed harder and hid his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean to!” He exclaimed. 

Gil-galad was horrified. “You can’t nest in here,” He reached out to take one of the quilts.

Elrond’s hand shot out as if to stop him. 

He froze, fingers hovering over the old quilt, and looked up. To his surprise, his friend looked like he was on the verge of tears. “This isn’t—” He began to say but was interrupted.

“You’re right,” Elrond sniffled. “I shouldn’t have taken these things. They’re yours and I’ll put them back where I found them so you can use them. I shouldn’t have let myself take them in the first place. I’m sorry, I’ve inconvenienced you. You must have better things to do with your morning than tracking all this down.” 

He rose on his knees and began picking up the top layer of the nest. Gil-galad felt almost physically ill at the distress on his face at the prospect of pulling apart what he’d so painstakingly built. 

“Wait,” He said. “That’s not what I meant.”

Elrond looked at him cautiously, the embarrassment still clear on his face but mingled now with a touch of shame that made Gil-galad’s chest clench.

He sat back on his heels, making it clear that he wasn’t about to go anywhere. As calmly as he could, he said, “You shouldn’t be nesting in a closet. You don’t need to hide.” 

Looking a little confused, Elrond settled back down on the fabric, unconsciously snuggling against the armful of clothes he’d picked up. “I’m not hiding,” He said. “I just don’t want to be in anyone’s way.”

“How would nesting in your room, on an actual bed, put you in anyone’s way? It’s your room.” Gil-galad said, feeling like he was missing something.

“I don’t want to be in my room,” Frustration flashed in his friend’s voice. 

“Why?” He made a point of ensuring all the rooms were perfectly comfortable. He liked comfortable things.

Elrond squinted back at him and his tone suggested that was a rather foolish question. “It’s too big and empty.”

“So you’d rather be in a closet?” 

He groaned and clutched at the makeshift bedding. “It’s out of the way.”

Gil-galad furrowed his brow. As far as he understood, the point of nesting wasn’t to hide in some small, out-of-the-way spot, all alone. In fact, it generally involved a lot of cuddling and spending time with romantic or platonic friends. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Elrond would want to shut himself away and avoid everyone else in the house.

“Is this a Fëanorian thing?” He asked. 

The half-elf came to Mithlond from one of the nomadic bands. While nothing like the savage avari tribes in the eastern wildlands, the Fëanorians kept themselves separate enough from the rest of the realm to develop their own peculiar traditions. He wouldn’t put it past them to have some kind of taboo on nesting.

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, as Elrond’s expression grew suddenly defensive.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He amended, even though he had. Thanks to all the trade meetings he attended, he had a better understanding than the average citizen of how important those wandering groups were to the economy and particularly in maintaining contact with the human settlements far to the north. That didn’t mean he couldn’t find them odd and off-putting at times. “It’s just that it feels like we may be running into a cultural difference. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you can’t nest in here—and you can! If that’s really what you want to do. But you don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind,” Elrond said quickly, not nearly as defensive as he’d been before.

Gil-galad sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You don’t mind a lot of things that I, and most everyone else here, think are absolutely intolerable. Could you explain why you want to nest in this old closet?”

He knew it wasn’t his friend’s job to explain himself or his upbringing to anyone, least of all a minor member of King Finarfin’s court, but he wouldn’t be able to focus all day if he thought the other was hiding because he didn’t want to be a bother—which he never was—or, worse yet, because Gil-galad did something to make him think the behavior wasn’t acceptable. 

That last part was a truly horrible thought. “Wait,” He said. “Did I do something that made you feel unwelcome?”

“No!” Elrond exclaimed, releasing the comforting material and taking one of his hands between his own. “No, you’ve been nothing but unbelievably kind and welcoming, even if you do drag me off to every event you can.”

Of course, he did. As his patron, it was his duty to set him up for the most successful future possible, and in Lindon that included introducing him to as many powerful figures as he could manage. Plus, those parties were far more pleasant when he had Elrond to talk to.

“Then why do you want to hide?” 

“I’m not hiding,” Elrond insisted despite all appearances to the contrary. “I’m—I—” He struggled over whatever he was trying to say, flustered. 

Gil-galad squeezed his hand encouragingly.

Elrond inhaled, his shoulders hunching up to his ears. “There isn’t much opportunity to nest,” He said the word like it was some kind of ill omen, “while traveling. We’re usually moving around too much to have the urge. But if you do get it and can’t shake it, the only option is to take space in one of the wagons and try to make do or else make the whole group stop while you make a nest somewhere quiet. And it’s so frustrating for everyone because we need to keep going but we can’t. 

“It’s different when we set up a longer camp. We’ll stay for a few fortnights sometimes, and that’s more than enough time to build a nest and get through it. And if you want someone in the nest with you, there’s always someone around who doesn’t mind doing nothing for a little while.” He exhaled heavily, his entire body seeming to shrink down from the loss. “I can’t do that here.”

“Of course you can,” Gil-galad said, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. 

“I can’t,” Elrond insisted firmly. “I don’t have family here, or a tribe. I hardly know anyone outside of the Hall besides Erestor and you. He detests everything to do with being like this, and I can’t bother you when you already do so much for me.”

‘You damn well can,’ He almost said. Instead, he pressed his free hand to his chest and said, with complete sincerity, “I am honored that you feel safe and comfortable enough in my house to nest, and as my dear friend, I am more than happy to spend as much time with you as I can.”

Elrond looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself at this, so Gil-galad patted the edge of the pile and asked, “Mind if I join you now?”

His face lit up and he shifted to one side, making a little room for him to squeeze in beside him. The closet was not designed for one, let alone two occupants so it was a snug fit. Gil-galad had to hike up his robes and shimmy his way in, apologizing when he invariably trod on some part of the other. Elrond gave no indication that he minded in the slightest and pressed up against him as soon as he’d settled. 

Gil-galad shifted around until he could rest his cheek on the top of Elrond’s head, and soon found himself with two armfuls of very happy and very cuddly half-elf. As cramped as he was, this still beat listening to counselors drone on and on about the latest harvest or how many sheep had sore feet. 

They stayed like that, half sitting, half lying, for a good long while. 

Eventually, he felt movement beside him and opened his eyes—when had he closed them?—to see Elrond shifting around as he pulled up parts of the bedding with his fingers and toes.

“What are you doing?” He asked, fascinated. 

Elrond stopped, and from how his voice sounded, he was surely blushing. “Making it more comfortable.” 

“Ah,” Was his reply. Then, because he couldn’t help himself and because there was something so profoundly uncomfortable with thinking about anyone shutting themself away in a dark closet because they didn’t want to be perceived as a burden, he added, “A bed really would be better for that.”

Elrond sighed and pressed his face against his shoulder. “I don’t want to be in my room.”

“Because it’s too empty, right.”

They were quiet for a bit. Elrond resumed fluffing up the bedding, his breath coming out in little huffs as he worked. Gil-galad pondered the issue.

At length, he spoke again. “Are you in here because you don’t want to be in your room, or because you want to be in here specifically?”

Elrond twisted his shoulders so he could look up at him. “I don’t want to be in my room or in anyone’s way.” 

Gil-galad hummed in thought. “What about my room?” He could see the argument building in the other’s expression, so he pressed onward. “You can’t say you’re in the way if I invite you.”

A pause, and then, “But you need your bed.”

He snorted. “I certainly don’t need to sleep in it until tonight. Not to say you should be done by then. There’s more than enough room for two.” 

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Elrond asked, his voice small and muffled as he hid his face again.

“Of course not,” Gil-galad ran a hand down his companion’s unbraided hair. He rather surprised himself with the touch, it felt far more intimate than he expected.

“If you change your mind, you can tell me to go and I will.”

“I’m sure I won’t.”

“But you can.” 

He really was insistent over some of the most peculiar things. “Thank you for letting me know.”

They settled for a moment, Gil-galad not wanting to push too hard. He had plenty of time before he needed to leave for a meeting that he really couldn’t skip. There was no rush.

Elrond took a deep breath. “I’m ready to go.”

Gil-galad sat up, his back complaining at the movement after spending so long in such an odd position. “Excellent.”

“You don’t mind if I bring this too?” He asked, hesitant again as he delicately picked up an old hat. 

“I rather hoped you would. Mind if I help?”

“Please.” Elrond laughed at himself, “It’s a bit more than I meant to gather.”

Together, they collected up the odd assortment of quilts and clothes and curtains and, yes, even a saddle blanket, and walked to Gil-galad’s room.

[lordgrimwing]

Elrond: I'm feeling like nesting and I'm kind of embarrassed. Currently taking suggestions for what to do about it.

Erestor, toasted af on suppressants: I have a suggestion.

Elrond: I am taking suggestions from anyone other than Erestor.

Glorfindel, holds a knife and suspicious powders: I also have a suggestion.

Elrond: I'm no longer taking suggestions.

[lordgrimwing]

Awake

[for Glorfindel Week, hosted by @glorfindelweek, Day 4, part of the Silm ABO series]

Glorfindel listened to the strange noises around him. Eyes shut and breath kept carefully even, he tried to get a sense of what was happening without alerting anyone to his wakefulness. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious this time, but the pain in his stomach was less distracting now. 

Last time, he woke up suddenly, yanked back to consciousness by a deep, aching pain splitting his belly open as though the mýrennedí still had her teeth in him. He had a hazy memory of someone trying to speak with him, followed by an unsuccessful attempt to escape out the mouth of the bizarre cave they were in. Whoever these people were, they were not pleased by his disappearance. 

The cave opening sat on the side of a sheer cliff dotted with many other openings of identical size and shape. The pain made climbing hard, and he had to slip inside one of the other caves to rest. Fearing he’d fall if he tried climbing the rest of the way down, he tested his luck in the rabbit warren-like caves instead, hoping they were all connected and he could reach the ground. 

He bumped into many strangely dressed elves as he went. They either stared at him in surprise or squawked like vibrantly colored, unintelligible birds. A few tried to stop him, but he avoided them easily and kept running.

The elf from the first cavern caught up to him at about the same time he realized he’d started bleeding from the healing gashes in his stomach. He wasn’t steady on his feet by that point, stumbling down the passage with more than running, and the elf easily grabbed him. Everything was very confused after that, but they must have gotten back to where he started somehow. 

That brought him back to the present: still unable to make sense of what was going on but feeling less like he was crawling toward the flaming chasm of death—so that was good.

“You are awake?” Someone asked from near his head.

Well, pretending to sleep wasn’t working. It was time to figure out where he was and what happened. He opened his eyes.

The elf from earlier was gone, replaced by one of the strangers the mýrennedí tried eating. He recognized this one from the days he spent watching their camp before the attack, assessing if they were a threat to his people or just part of a strange tribe passing through. Quenhó, he’d named this one, because his odd appearance was reminiscent of images conjured up by the angoldos’ tales of lost spirits. He had been interesting to watch: he appeared to be some kind of healer, like an angoldo, as others in the group came to him when they were hurt.

Quenhó repeated the question, words spoken with the tone of someone who was trying to speak clearly after eating many fermented mesquite bean pods. “You are awake?”

Glorfindel blinked. “Yes.” His mouth felt dry.

“You are safe,” Quenhó said in very simple words, tongue stumbling.

Was he just learning to speak? Perhaps he actually was a lost spirit.

“Do not run again. You are hurt.” Quenhó pointed at his own stomach, hidden under layers of enough stifling fabric to make a sizable traveling tent, then down at Glorfindel’s while making a pained expression with his odd face.

Glorfindel agreed with the limited explanation. “Yes,” he said. “That is usually what happens to people who are caught by a mýrennedí. I’m lucky she didn’t kill me.” 

The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he should have died. The fight took place far away from his people (though he’d watched the strangers long enough to know that they knew where his people lived, that they were specifically watching his people). Even if he had survived the journey back to be cared for by an angoldo, he’d seen though wounds like this to know a burning fire should have grown within him by the third day and finished what the large cat started.

Quenhó looked at him, his face twisted into an indecipherable mask. “You are hurt,” he repeated. “I am helping you.”

Glorfindel tilted his head against the thick, soft mat he was laying on. “Where am I?” He asked. “I’ve never seen caves like this. Do your people make caves like hares dig tunnels?”

“You are hurt.” This time, a hint of pleading entered the words.

Quenhó, whoever and whatever he was, had no idea what Glorfindel was saying.