#tar ancalime

[naarisz]

Tar-Ancalimë, first Ruling Queen of Númenor.

[whosthatsilmcharacter]

(All art used with EXPRESS permission from the artist)

[aredhels]

Ancalimë, like her father, was resolute in pursuing her policies; and like him she was obstinate, taking the opposite course to any that was counselled. She had something of her mother’s coldness and sense of personal injury; and deep in her heart, almost but not quite forgotten, was the firmness with which Aldarion had unclasped her hand and set her down when he was in haste to be gone.

[vviths]

tar ancalimë sketch

[sajirah]

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

Tar-Ancalimë

Tar-Telperiën

Tar-Vanimeldë

Ar-Zimraphel (aka Miriel)

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

[maglorslostsilmaril]

hate people who have only read the lord of the rings and the hobbit and love to bitch about tolkien barely having any strong female characters

[brighter-arda]

Ancalime for day 6 @tolkienlatamandcaribbeanweek

part 35 of toi's indigenous tolkien series

[Image description: six coloured images

1: colourful buildings, text = Tar-ancalimë

2: lamb held by someone in colourful clothes

3: woman from south Peru looking at camera

4: the rainbow mountains, text = First Ruling Queen

5: Peru market, text = Numenor

6: cropped photo of musician with stringed instrument in colourful skirt]

[slightnettles]

For the @silmarillionwritersguild Jubilee > Potluck Bingo > Elleth's Femslash & Lyrics board > column B, five exact drabbles. CW: possible incest (not explicit) + shamefully literal interpretation of prompts.

I've left signs but you take no notice

Míriel will not return, will not stand in the flesh before Indis again. Not to shame her, as her son is wont to do, for having taken her place in Finwë’s house; nor to speak her love.

Only the thousand treacheries of thread and fabric remain: a tear in Indis’s favourite gown, and the pricking of her needle against her thumb, the blooming of blood on linen, and a red blotch in the shape of Míriel’s profile; the sudden snagging of a ribbon around Indis’s wrist, tightening to a bond; the soft, caressing tangling of her sheets about her thighs.

Say that the wind won't change on us

Nienor climbs first, bare feet braced against the trunk, swift and bold, and Nellas climbs after her, eyes flitting ever upwards. Soon Nienor sits astride a bough, head drawn back in delight, braided hair gold against the grey sky. Wind blows, and leaves rustle loudly. Nienor draws Nellas to sit close beside her.

‘You must not forget this,’ says Nellas, leaning into her warmth.

‘O Elves whose memory is ever living!’ says Nienor, laughing. Pressing a kiss to Nellas’s mouth, she says: ‘But I shan’t.’

Perhaps not - and yet her brother did, thinks Nellas; and leaves scatter in the wind.

If I was Atlantis and you were the sea

She loathes it, loves it; then, at sixteen, she sees it for the first time.

It is wide, grey, bleak; some day all Númenor shall be hers, but not this. It comes lapping at her feet, a cold-tongued hound; she yells in affront, rips up a sheaf - sceptre, whip - of marram grass, lashes the sea. ‘Thief!’ Of a father’s presence, a mother’s happiness.

A wave comes, foam-tipped, and enfolds her. It is so cold she cannot breathe, then so warm between her legs she grows weak-kneed. In the water there is a woman’s face, grey-green, hair-wreathed; it laughs at her.

When we die we will die with our arms unbound

Another might have listened to the worm’s lies, gone hunting after phantoms.

But she is Húrin’s daughter, axe-wielding, a captain of Nargothrond. She runs back to where captives are being led away. Finduilas is among them, in chains; so she leaps, runs the harder.

They meet in the midst of battle. When they kiss, open-mouthed and harsh, their teeth clash and Nienor tastes blood - Finduilas’s, her own. It makes no difference; the Orcs are too many. Finduilas, now freed, hefts an Orkish spear; Nienor lifts her axe. They shall not live long now - but side by side, at the last.

Now three of us here lie

Summer, then autumn, falling to coldness all of a sudden, to frost upon the leaves and on the grass of a morning. To Aerin it feels too early still to light fires, a waste of wood. Instead the three of them share a bed, under heaps of blankets. They speak little; Morwen is ever more silent, and already Rían’s eyes stray ever northwards.

Still they draw together. Their hands entwine; sometimes their limbs. Morwen’s fingers are firm on Aerin’s wrist as she guides her down; Rían’s breath hot and damp against her neck. Stolen warmth, as an east wind blows.

[sesamenom]

eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, FIVE GOLDEN RINGS! four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree

-

since in the last poll you decided that in light of a potential invasion the humans become Eru's problem (the elves have all been evacuated via swan-ship on day 7), here we have some very angry FA/SA ladies (and Morwen's cows)

Now that we're getting to a whole string of fun days:

[spruceneedles]

Ancalimë

[thelordofgifs]

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo: Quarterfinal

Beregond vs Tar-Ancalimë

Beregond:

A Man of Gondor and one of the Guards of the Citadel, who abandoned his post to save Faramir’s life.

loyal, friendly, good dad

Tar-Ancalimë:

The first Ruling Queen of Númenor.

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

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

Quarterfinals masterpost

[awesomevictoriau]

The Mariner's Wife | Tolkien Fancast | Unfinished Tales of Numenor

[silm-pronunciations]

Tar-Ancalimë

Tar-Ancalimë, First Queen of Númenor

[fistfuloflightning]

Tar-Ancalime and Elrond Halfelven: children raised isolated from their heritage and the absent fathers who loved them (but not enough to stay.)

Defined by their estrangement to parents who were the source and cause of the estrangement—conscious or not—both share similarities in their reaction to their fathers, Earendil and Aldarion respectively. In this essay, I will