#that's kinda what i see why he left luthien behind

[that-angry-noldo]

"Now, you may be wondering how the hell have I gotten myself into this situation," Beren said to no one, hissing through his teeth. "Alone. Hopeless. Leaving my love and by circumstance my only chance for survival far behind."

He looked over the dark burned desert and gripped his stick, or, as he called it, a glorified staff. He was running low on water. He was pretty sure it wouldn't be nearly enough to last him until Angband.

"Come on, guys," he said to no one and to everyone at once. "Cut me some slack. Give me some- benefit of doubt, huh? Am I using your fancy words right, Edrahil?"

Gods, I'm going mad, he thought, resuming walking. A few ravens cawed far in the sky.

"I'm- look, how would you say? I'm traumatised. Finrod, your cousins are filthy bastards, by the way. I'm- I'm not feeling bad, like, at all about stealing those rocks now. Shiny rocks. Cursed shiny rocks."

That, if he ever gets to Angband.

But even if he does, what's next? What would be his next step?

"They're stupid," he said, pursing his lips. "Oaths. Oaths are so damn stupid. Right, Finrod? If- if it weren't for your dumb oath, you'd still be alive. My dumb oath will resume in nothing by death. I will resume in nothing by death."

Ravens circled over his head. Beren gripped his staff.

"I don't regret leaving her behind, you know. I- I don't. If it means it's only me who has to die. And- it does! It does. She's smart. Lu's smart. She'll turn around and go home, and- forget about me. Yeah. That sounds right. That thought doesn't make me sad at all."

That's not how it works, a ghostly voice whispered. Beren laughed.

"I know. I know."

"I just- I don't want her to die. I don't-"

He stopped.

"I don't-"

His throat spasmed.

"I don't want her to die like you."

Far away, a wolf howled. Beren sucked in a breath.

"Well. That was a portion of my emotionally vulnerable thoughts for today. No, Edrahil, I'm not traumatised, I have no idea what you're talking about at all-"

[animatorweirdo]

Moonflowers

You have finally recovered from your injuries and are prepared to leave for home. The last thing you needed was your new medicine.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, healing, leaving, talking behind Thingol's back, Maglor still being worried about you, taking a new medicine, cold shivers, brain freeze??? and showing a lot of gratitude to Melian.

Chapter 21

-------------------------------------------

The day finally arrived when you had fully recovered and were ready to head home. Nelle had taken excellent care of your wounds and ensured that the crack in your head was fully healed. Surprisingly, you had even started sleeping well since that night with Nelle. You no longer saw nightmares, and even if you woke up early in the morning, you felt energized and less gloomy about your thoughts.

You still exchanged letters with Maglor, and after having that talk with Luthien, you began to see it too when you read Maglor’s letters. Maglor expressed his emotions a lot and wrote a lot more freely than formally. It made your heart flutter at the thought that there was a chance that he felt the same way toward you.

You were writing your last letter to him, telling him you were ready to leave Menegroth and travel back to Himring. The last thing you needed was the new medicine from Melian; then all would be set. You also told him there was something you wished to tell him when you saw him before signing the letter and then folding it.

You left the healer’s halls and walked through the corridors, planning to reach the library and find Melui so he could send the letter. 

Your ears caught light footsteps and from the corner of your eye, you noticed Luthien catching up to you. She had a mischievous grin on her face, so you guessed she was planning to scare you. 

“Hey, you noticed me,” she giggled as she walked with you. 

“Well, I’m finally becoming more aware of my surroundings. I think you scaring me several times helped me finally develop sharper senses,” you stated, causing her to chuckle. 

“Are you going to the library?” she asked. 

“Yeah. I’m going to send a letter home to tell my folks that I’m leaving soon. This will most likely be the last one I send,” you answered as you held the letter. 

“I feel kinda sad to see you go. You have been fun company,” Luthien stated. 

“I’m glad. I would say I would be to come visit, but I don’t think your mother’s girdle would allow that,” you said. “And I think your father would be the most happy one to finally see me gone,” you added. 

“You’re right. He was not amused by the jokes you taught me,” Luthien replied, and you both laughed when you remembered that one prank you pulled together. 

“But, don’t be upset. I might not be able to visit, but we can write letters to each other. If that’s what you like,” you said. 

“You are right about that too. It would be a shame if we would just stop talking after becoming friends and having so much fun together,” Luthien smiled. 

“But where do you live? I now remember that you never mentioned your home,” she questioned. 

“Well, I hope you don’t get upset, but I kept quiet about it because I was worried your dad would piss himself off if he learned where I lived,” you said, then leaned closer to her. “I live in Himring. Our friend is a Noldor elf who helped us settle there after our village was destroyed by the orcs,” you revealed.

“Oh, you live among the Noldor? Well, that makes kinda sense why you would not want to talk about it with my father in the earshot,” Luthien said. 

“Well, he had made it clear that he does not like the Noldor, so I thought it would be wise to play it safe and tell as little as possible,” you stated

“I don’t blame you, but you do not have to worry about me. It does not bother me if you live among the Noldor,” Luthien smiled. 

“I’m glad to hear that. I would have been sad if we had to end our friendship here,” you smiled in return as you two reached the doors to the library. 

“By the way, do you have any idea if your mother is available? I would like to ask about the medicine. It would be a lot of trouble to leave without it,” you questioned as you stood before the doors. 

“Hold on for a moment,” Luthien said and then remained quiet. You looked at her as she seemed to be staring into nothing. You guessed she was trying to reach her mother through the Osanwe thing.

“Oh! Well, you are in luck,” Luthien snapped back to reality. 

“My mother told me your medicine is ready, so she asked me to send you to meet her,” she explained. 

“Well, that’s wonderful. I go see her right away after I send this letter. Is she in her study like usual?” you asked, which in return she nodded. 

“Great. I see you later and tell you how it went,” you said as you opened the door to the library.  

“Wonderful. Good luck,” Luthien said and walked away. 

“Thanks,” you said as you walked inside the library. You felt excited as you gave the letter to Melui and made your way toward Melian’s study. You couldn't help but wonder what kind of medicine she had prepared for you. You sincerely hoped the medicine was something that looked and tasted good. You had pretty much enough of awful-tasting medicines thanks to Camilla.

Maglor was reading your letter when he went to fetch himself. He felt happy and excited that you were well enough to leave Doriath and return to Himring. You wrote about the path you were taking, and the last thing you needed was the medicine from Melian; then you would start your journey. You also mentioned that there was something you wanted to talk to him about when you saw him.

Maglor thought to himself about the path you were taking. His mind also pondered the thing you wanted to talk to him about. His heart fluttered at the thought of you confessing your feelings to him since he was now aware of them. 

He read the letter and wondered about the path you were going to take. Surprisingly, he felt rather impatient and then he was consumed by worry when he thought about all the possibilities of something happening to you during your journey back to Himring. He also didn't know if you were going to travel on foot or ride a horse. Did you even know how to ride a horse?

His thoughts went uncontrolled in his head. He should trust you and think that you could make it back on your own, but his worry got the best of him. He decided that he would come to get you himself in the town you mentioned. He folded the letter, then left to fetch his horse from the stables.

Arriving at a set of wooden doors, you stood before them and knocked gently but loud enough for the person inside to hear you. 

“Come in,” You heard Melian’s voice behind the doors. 

You pushed the doors open and walked inside. 

The nightingales flew around the room. They were flapping their wings and tweeting on the branches that grew from the walls. The Maia stood before you. 

“(Name), it's good that you came,” Melian said. 

“I came as quickly as possible after Luthien told me you wanted to see me. Did you… manage to make the medicine for my curse?” you questioned. 

“I did. I had to look for a while, but I eventually found a medicine that should allow the spirit within you to fall into slumber. I do not know how long the effect will last, but I hope it should at least be effective for three months before you have to take it again,” Melian said as she handed you a vial.

“Three months? That would be great. My previous medicine could not even last that long,” you said as you inspected the vial and the liquid inside. 

It nearly looked like ordinary water, but had an odd magical feel to it. 

“What is this made out of? It nearly looks like ordinary water?” you questioned as you took off the cork and took a sniff. It did not have a scent to it. 

“Water is one of its components. The others are certain herbs and minerals, but it's mainly made from one of its most important ingredients, the moonflower,” Melian explained as she approached a wall and showed a white, beautiful flower growing out of the room’s wall. “The silver flowers are sometimes used to help those in trouble with sleeping, but the white flower has the strongest effect when grown under the light of Tilion,” she explained.

“That’s interesting. Can I possibly grow those myself?” you asked. 

“They are most adaptable, growing in caverns where moonlight shines the best, and they need songs to grow white. They react mostly to elven songs, but it should not be impossible to grow them from human songs as well,” she answered.

“That’s good, then I don’t have to worry about having all the ingredients in store,” you said then glanced at the vial in your hands. 

“Say, will it be alright if I test this one right now? Just to be sure it works and there are no unpleasant side effects,” you questioned

“Go ahead, but be warned that the effects might be intense for you since you are a human,” Melian said. 

“I think I can handle that,” you answered then looked at the vial. You felt a bit nervous, to be honest, but you took in a deep breath and then drank the whole vial. 

You smacked your lips at the taste. It tasted mostly like water, but it had a peculiar aftertaste. Suddenly, you felt strong, cold shivers run down your spine. It was like an instant brain freeze, except it affected your whole body.

You would have fallen to the floor if Melian hadn’t grabbed you. She gently helped you sit down on a chair while you were still shivering from the medicine. 

“Wow!” you exclaimed as the cold sensation slowly died down. 

“That’s perhaps the strongest shiver I've ever had in my life,” you said, your head still feeling cold.

“Do you feel anything strange?” Melian asked. 

“Not at all. It's still a bit cold, but I feel surprisingly refreshed and light,” You explained. 

“I think it's actually working,” you stated. 

“That’s good. Dark spirits cannot handle the effects of the white moonflower, so now the beast within you should remain in slumber for three months,” Melian said. 

“Thank you…” you breathed out. 

“I don’t know how I can repay for this…” you added. 

“I think you repaid enough by your company with Luthien. You are now free to leave Menegroth and live your life freely from the curse,” Melian said. 

“Yeah… thank you again. Is it possible to get seeds for the moonflowers and the recipe for the medicine?” you questioned while pointing at the via. 

“I have already written it down on those parchments and the seeds and other ingredients are in those pouches,” she pointed at a few rolls of paper and pouches on the table. “You are free to take them with you,”

“Thank you…” you said as you grabbed them. 

“I need to get started preparing. My friend will flip when she finds out that now we have medicine for my curse,” you stood up with a smile. 

“Thank you again, my queen. You have no idea how much this means to me,” you bowed your head. 

Melian smiled softly. “I’m glad I was able to help. Go now. You need to bid farewell to your friends,” she said. 

“I will… Thanks again. I will never forget this,” you bowed your head again then headed toward the door. Melian shook her head while the nightingales sang on the branches. 

After you closed the doors to Melian’s study, you nearly ran to the healer’s halls, excited to tell your friends and show your new medicine to them. Your bane on finding the new medicine was finally over. 

[kanafinwe-makalaure]

Stay | Elrond Peredhel

Disheartened after giving up her best chance at building a life in Rivendell, Y/N decides to run away and return to her home - but her escape is hindered by none other than Elrond, whom she was trying to leave behind.

Hurt/comfort I wrote for my dear wife @mismaeve - I hope you'll like this little fic, I have never written Elrond before so I'm kinda unsure about it. You be the judge of whether I did him justice!

Pairing: Elrond x fem!Elf!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: implied smut? I guess?

Once again wiping over her eyes with her sleeve in a more or less futile attempt to dry her tears, Y/N pressed down on the clothes she had hastily thrown into her bag; but still, the bag was too small and wouldn’t close no matter how she pushed and pulled. The urge to scream grew even stronger inside her, but she had to be quiet. Quickly, tears clouded her vision again, and at the rate she kept trying to dry them with her wet sleeve, they would remain red for days; but she cared not. All the more reason would she have never to step before Elrond ever again, whom she had failed so terribly.

How could she ever have been gullible enough to believe that she, a simple Silvan scribe, could move to Rivendell and make a name for herself, all while holding the attention of its Lord? That he should love her was simply too much and too good to be true; and so, in order to protect them both, she had to leave now, and make her shameful way back home to Mirkwood and move back in with her parents and never marry. (Well, certainly not Lord Elrond!)

She nervously glanced outside the vast window of her chamber; the sun had already set, and surely Elrond would be wondering where she was, for she had promised to meet him at sunset; by then she had hoped to be gone, but surely, he would wait a little for her, gentleman as he was. Oh, he was too good for the world, and certainly for her!

She decided that with what little time she might have left to make her escape, she did not have the luxury to take all her clothes with her; and so she yanked at the first sleeve that her fingers found and pulled that dress out of the bundle, carelessly tossing it aside. It was one of her nicer ones, in a soft emerald green that she was quite fond of, but even her best clothing was still simple and no match to the fine fabrics Elrond wore (though it had been more than enough to please him so far, and only the Valar knew why).

She shouldered her bag with a last, forlorn look back at the dress, stormed out of her room - and ran directly into someone: The very Elf Lord she had wanted to escape, clad in fine red robes, his smooth dark hair braided neatly and a little more intricately than usual.

“Y/N!” Elrond exclaimed, and he carefully held her by her forearms, his touch ghostly light, as if he was afraid she might be made of smoke and dissipate. She did not tear herself away, although perhaps this would have been her last chance to run. Even this barely-present touch sent warm and hot shivers through her entire body and made her heart race in her chest and thump against her ribcage from within; and she could picture the worry in his kind eyes of starlight even now that she was avoiding their gaze. She felt it falling onto the bundle she wore on her back, and then his arms sank to his sides.

“Forgive me,” she whispered, pressing the words out past the lump that had formed in her throat. “You have been nothing but good to me; but I cannot stay here, and I cannot continue this.”

At that, she felt that she had to at least look up to him briefly, to see his face one last time, so fair and handsome it was said to bear the likeness of Luthien herself in the masculine form. As soon as she turned her eyes upwards, however, she already regretted it, for the heartbreak that was written upon Elrond’s features matched her own and only broke her heart more.

“If that is what you must do, I will not hinder you,” he replied in much the same pressed whisper, “but please, be kind enough to tell me why. Have I done something to offend you?”

“No!” Her protest was immediate. The mere notion that Elrond could have been anything but a gracious host, anything but wonderful to her, was ridiculous.

Then she realised that she should probably say more. “You have done nothing wrong,” she clarified firmly. “I myself am the one who could never measure up to you, and so, I must leave before you realise what a fraud I am. And of course, that in itself is further proof that I am right.”

“How could you speak this way?” he breathed out, and again his fingers touched her ever respectfully and couthly, though only on one forearm this time. “Come,” and he guided her gently back into her chamber, “we should sit, and you must tell me what happened.”

She did not have the strength to object, and so she sat down on the white silk of her freshly made bed - made too nicely to ever sleep in it again - and he in the silver chair across from her.

“Now tell me, Y/N,” he started again, and there was a pleading look on his face, “why were you going to leave me so suddenly and without farewell?”

Y/N took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say; and then, finally, she simply mumbled: “I did not take my opportunity to ask for work in the archives. I had an appointment to introduce myself, but I simply did not go. I thought I might not get the position, and so instead of taking my chance, I squandered it, like a fool and a coward.”

“But you wanted that position so fiercely!”

“And I still do,” she said, and again, tears streamed down her face and she sunk her head. “But it was easier not to try than to fail and disappoint not only you, but myself as well.”

You heard only Elrond’s voice when he replied, and saw only your feet in their light brown travel boots. 

“You could never disappoint me,” he spoke, his voice full of earnesty, “and I believe you underestimate yourself and your talents, as well as your strength.”

At that, she lifted her head again, and he was smiling at her, warmly and at the same time with sadness, which pierced her heart like a needle.

“Your words are too sweet,” she answered, and hot tears crept back into her still burning eyes, “but even if you are right, I am a coward, and in my cowardice I have squandered my chance at building a life here, and I have hurt you, which I can never take back.”

Elrond stood up, to his full height, and for a moment she thought that he might leave, but instead, his slender form approached her, and then she felt his weight settle on the bed next to her, though at a still comfortable and appropriate distance.

“You have not yet left,” Elrond said, and his voice so close to her made her turn her head to him; how could his voice alone be so entrancing, and how could every aspect of him fill her with awe and draw her in, increase her longing to be close to him? To hold his hands, to taste his lips again, to never leave his side, but also to wonder what his skin would feel like on hers, his hands digging into her hair, his breath condensing on the inside of her thighs. Would all this truly have to remain a fantasy when it could have been real? 

“I never wanted to leave,” she whispered. “I just wanted to spare you the disappointment of finding out that the one you have, for whatever reason, decided to court, is only pretending to be strong and capable, and falls apart at the slightest gust of wind.”

Elrond suddenly turned his body towards her, and seized both of her hands. His touch was no longer soft and gentle, but fierce and firm, though not uncomfortably so. “Oh, how I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Y/N. You are a brilliant star among many, yet your brilliance dims all others, and I would not change a single thing about you, though I wish you had more faith in yourself. I know you asked me not to try to help you settle in here; that you wanted to build an existence here entirely on your own before we made our courtship public; and so I will not intervene on your behalf. But what I must and will do to help you is to tell you that you must try again; you can remedy this, if you truly wish to work as a scribe again; and if not, you will find another position. Anyone here, and not just I myself, would be lucky to have you.”

After this speech, she could no longer keep a smile off her face, and through tears that were now tears of relief and joy, she nodded. “You are right; I can try again. Though perhaps I would rather write my own stories than copy down the works of others. I have always desired to become a writer, but I never had the courage. Now, however, with you here, I think I may have finally found it.” 

Her eyes met his once again, and this time, only happiness was on his face. “Then you will stay?”

“Of course.”

Both with the same broad smiles on their faces, they touched their foreheads together, and then their lips met and they shared a kiss, one that was soft and sweet like all they had shared, yet somehow felt different, as if some invisible thing that had kept them apart was now gone. Heat and electricity pulled them towards each other until they could no longer resist.

It turned out to be very convenient that they were already on a bed.

[midas-or-khaos]

Hot take that may start arguments but hey! I live to be a twat.

Arwen in the books, was a nearly completely useless character. Please don’t kill me.

Now before we get started, I do appreciate that a lot of people love this character and I don’t dis you for this. Even though it only featured in the film I loved when she saved Frodo and battled the Nazgul herself, cus that really set her up for the rest of the movie as a character we’re gonna like (plus that amazing chase scene and cinematography 👌). I just feel the need to point out flaws in how Tolkien wrote her character and how he used her.

Now. What am I talking about. Well, the reason I see her as useless is because she doesn’t further the story. Obviously in life people don’t exist to further a narrative, and that’s why stories have character self interests, their own goals and wishes and fears. It’s to make characters feel like real people and it makes us as the readers feel more in touch with these people and like them more. And others will argue that her character is a beacon of hope for Aragorn in times of weakness. But therein lies the problem. Arwen fails the bechdel test. Her entire character doesn’t exist on its own merit, it exists as a means for Aragorn to further himself, not for herself. Obviously there is the discourse of Arwen’s desicion to stay in middle earth and become mortal, and her loyalty to love, but all these things come back to Aragorn one way or another. All her desicions are based on him. And this is a shame because if you think about it, if you removed Arwen from the story, Aragorn would still have become King, because he would’ve still gotten courage from the death of Boromir, the leading of the riders of Rohan, and even the death of his mother if you wanted too. She wanted to protect him and see him grow up, and how easy it would be to simply write in that he tried to become king to honour the momory of fallen loved ones and be better than those before him like Isildur and the whole of fucking Numenor. Arwen is easily replaceable. We also don’t see much of her. True she makes a banner for Aragorn and is nice to the fellowship, but we don’t see much of her after. SHE’S THE LOVE INTEREST OF THE FUTURE KING OF MEN! SHES GOTTA BE DOING MORE THAN JUST MOPING AROUND WITHOUT NOTICE! I’m not saying she has to go and pull an Eowyn, that’s not her character type and being a strong character doesn’t mean just fighting and being physically strong. It means planning with her brothers and helping them strategise where best to go to help in the war. It’s spending time with fallen or hurt soldiers, it’s focusing on the discourse of being at home and hating that she can’t be at the fight to help out, and being the POV character for those left behind in war. We didn’t get any of that.

What also upsets me is that she’s supposed to be Luthien reborn, yet all she inherited from that great character was her looks. Not Luthien’s level of character, not her skill for trickery and the ability to just straight up walk into the halls of MELKOR and own the place and retrieve a silmaril and piss off her dad (lol, well kinda). Non of that. And that’s what hurts me most off all about her character. She’s a shell of something that had the potential to be great, and yet was squandered.

Again, please don’t hate me and share your thoughts.

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 6

Summary: After discovering that you were stuck in Middle-Earth, Thranduil summoned a council of powerful Elves and wizards to see what should be done with you, expressing his wishes of wanting you out of his kingdom. The council decides to send you with Legolas on an orc-hunting mission, and if the Elves of the company that he deems trustworthy-- one of them being his own wife-- say that you've proven yourself worthy of staying among the Mirkwood Elves, then you can stay. The problem is actually managing to succeed...

Chapter No.: Chapter 6

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color [lad/lass/y-o]= lad/laddie, lass/lassie, young one

Notes: So, I have finished the Silmarillion, and may I just say, wow. I have a whole new understanding of Middle-Earth. It's amazing and inspiring. I do miss Maedhros and Maglor already though... Now, I've finished Beren and Luthien and started The Children of Hurin next in my quest to read every book on Middle-Earth that there is, written, of course, by the Tolkiens.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir LIVES, au to where some of the Feanorians lived, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Maedhros x Fingon, Maglor x OC, Thorin x OC maybe Bilbo you won't know for awhile, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

Instead of Blue-Eyes meeting you by Starlight, it was Erestor, instead. Aside from the one time you'd spoken to him with Haldir, asking him about other continents (Which, it turned out, you'd misunderstood. Beleriand had sunk, and so had Numenor and Tol Eressea, and no one but the Eldar could reach Aman anymore.), you hadn't spoken to him.

He was an older Elf, kind of intimidating, with a bird-like demeanor and an expression that said Don't fuck with me.

So yeah, you were kinda surprised.

Still, you bowed in the Elvish fashion. "Len Suilon, Erestor. Ci maer?"

"Suilad. Ni maer, [Y/N]," He assured nonchalantly. "A gin?"

"Ni maer eithro." You looked around nervously, hoping Blue-Eyes would pop out of nowhere and save you from a further conversation in what would probably be your poor Sindarin with an age-old Elf. "So, her majesty chose me for this scouting mission, eh?"

"Indeed," Erestor inclined his head. "Your Elvish improves, if slowly. You do not hesitate in your greetings anymore."

"Thank you, sir."

"Come, and lead Starlight along," Said Erestor unfairly regally, and sailed majestically away. "Have you been practicing your swordplay diligently? You may need it."

You nodded as you followed him. "Yes sir. Legolas, Elros, and Lindir have made sure that they split my day into learning Sindarin, weaponry, and even the general Elvish way of being Elvish." You tried not to sound irritated about that. They literally never gave you any free time. Not that you'd brought any books to read, and not that you could read any Elvish, but that wasn't the point.

"Good," Erestor nodded. "What are your strong suits?"

Ah, shit. "Uhm... I can throw a dagger pretty hard? I can probably shoot somebody dead if I'm point blank, but other than that, my aim sucks. I'm somewhat okay with a sword, though, and I prefer two. Why?"

"Curious," Erestor replied all mysteriously, and that was all he said on the matter.

The Elves chosen for the scouting mission-- the Elvenqueen herself, with Blue-Eyes, Haldir, and Elros-- were gathered and speaking amongst themselves, while Thorin and Dwalin next to their very dignified ponies glowered at them. Balin was feeding his own pony an apple, muttering to it kindly. Compared to the Elves, who were naturally tall and lithe, the short and stocky dwarves looked outrageously tiny.

"Ah," The Elvenqueen's attention was on you faster than a supersonic jet's. "You have arrived."

You bowed deeply. "Your majesty." To Haldir, and even to Legolas just to be safe from potential Elvenqueen-wrath-2.0, you added, "My Lords." You turned to Erestor. "I'm sorry I didn't greet you with the title, I forgot what ‘my lord’ is in Elvish."

To your surprise, the Elves chuckled. Except for the Elvenqueen, of course. "You need not worry yourself, mellonenin," Elros assured you. "You are still learning."

The Elvenqueen inclined her head. "We leave at once, if all are ready."

There were positive responses throughout, and everyone present mounted up. You caught sight of Lindir coming out of his tent for the morning, and waved; he looked confused, but awkwardly repeated your gesture. "What on Arda are you doing?" Blue-Eyes asked under his breath, like you were embarrassing him.

You snickered. "It's like a 'hi' and 'bye' gesture for when you're out of earshot of someone you know. It's called ‘waving’. Everyone does it where I come from."

"This is not your world, [Y/N]," The Elvenqueen reprimanded firmly. You fought the urge to shrink in on yourself. "If you are going to be a part of it and learn our ways, then you must do so faithfully, leaving everything you know of your world behind you. Your land is nothing but a poison, and I do not want it infecting Middle-Earth. Am I understood?"

"Y-yes ma'am-- your majesty, yes your majesty."

"Good," Said the Elvenqueen, and then she continued giving orders in Elvish, while Thorin purposefully repeated them in dwarvish for Balin and Dwalin, though everyone present spoke fluent English-- Common. For you, Blue-Eyes translated what he could before he was called up to ride beside his mother, so then Elros and Haldir took turns explaining. The whole event left you feeling like a fish out of water.

***

It was around noon when the company halted, which Thorin and Dwalin had been leading on foot, while Balin kept their ponies tied to his own. At first, you assumed, lunch, finally, I'm starving, but instead, you'd stopped because Thorin had found a trail. "Orcs," He said.

Duh, you felt like saying, what else would it be? Bigfoot?

But after the Elvenqueen's earlier lecture, you kept that to yourself.

"Which way do they lead, master dwarf?" The Elvenqueen demanded.

Thorin huffed as he stood. "They go north, but they are heavy from travel. Wherever they came from, it is not from anywhere near the northern borders of Mirkwood or Erebor."

"Where else would they come from?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. "Are there like orcish towns in the north or something? Maybe we could--”

"There is no such thing," The Elvenqueen snapped.

"The wargs that I had tracked were from Gundabad," Blue-Eyes said calmly, as if that hadn't ever been important information before. "The ones that attacked us on the river, however, were from Mordor."

You leaned over to Haldir as Blue-Eyes continued to speculate. "I'm confused. What's the difference?"

"Gundabad wargs are darker, lithe, and more agile," Haldir told you quietly. "They are more viscous, as well. A Mordor warg is more... Stout, I suppose you could say, and slightly lighter in color."

There was a flash of color before your eyes. Suddenly, you felt as if you were in a clearing of trees, surrounded by people in dark colors, while the sound of howls filled the air, unlike the ones you'd heard before.

These are Gundabad wargs! They will outrun you!

These are Rusteveld rabbits! I'd like to see them try.

You shook your head as you resituated yourself in the saddle. Well, that was sudden... It had been quite a few days since any of the strangely-familiar visions had come to you. You came back to your senses as Dwalin laughed uproarously. "Well, that settles it, then! To Gundabad!"

"Wait just a moment," The Elvenqueen said. "We are not all brash, Master Dwalin. We will go back and retrieve more forces before even thinking of going near Gundabad." With that, she turned her silver mare around and began trotting back, Haldir and Erestor on either side of her. Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin hung back, taking their time getting on their ponies and following after.

"Where's Gundabad?" You asked Legolas quietly; not that it did any good. Elves could hear grass growing on the other side of the continent if they wanted to. "And what is it?"

"It is northwest of here, in a cleft between the mountains," He answered. "It is an old fortress, from the time when the Dunedain first came to Middle-Earth from Numenor, if you remember." You nodded; he'd told you the entire story of the Silmarils and anything that went with it or after. "It was the gate that lead to the Witch-Kingdom of Angmar."

"Lead by the Witch-King..." You finished for him automatically. An eerie echo of a voice filled your mind: No man can kill me. At his impressed look, you scrunched up your face. "And what are you, French? How'd you make that 'h' sound in the middle of the damn word?!" You realized what you said only after you'd said it, and quickly looked to the Elvenqueen to see if she'd heard. If she had, she made no sign of it. "Sorry."

Blue-Eyes patted your back. "It is fine, Sairen, you can speak to me of your world, don't worry." With a cocky smile, he looked down at you smugly. "As for the pronunciation... You will learn to do it soon."

Back at camp, a group of Elves was already up and waiting to move out, and at the Elvenqueen's ringing voice, they followed after, and you all retraced your steps back to where Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin had found the orc tracks. You considered it pointless-- they could've just taken the host of a couple dozen Elves with them that way they didn't have to retrace their steps.

Partway there, you decided that goddamn song that'd been going through your head needed a damn good explanation. Unfortunately, Blue-Eyes was now up by his mother, leaving you between two totally random Elves. You'd never been good at starting up a conversation, but you decided to give it a try anyway. "...Hey, do either of you speak Common?"

Both Elves busted out laughing as if you'd made a hilarious joke about dwarves.

"Most Eldar can speak Common," The one on the right said, removing his helmet to look at you more clearly. Whoa. You practically fell off Starlight. He was beautiful. He had long, purely golden hair that fell down his back in unfairly glorious waves. He had soft blue eyes (Not as gorgeous as Blue-Eyes', but still.) and a fair face. "It would be considered quite odd, in our long lives, if one did not learn the tongues of others."

You just stared at him. "Dude. Are you like, made of gold?"

He laughed, which sounded a lot like something naturelike and unfairly beautiful. You'd never heard any of the Elves outright laugh, so this was a weird, new experience for you. "I have been asked many things, but that is new. No, I am just as flesh and bone as you are."

"Yeah, but yours are like, plated in gold, so, you're... Wow."

He laughed again. "What is your name, mellon?"

"[Y/N.]," You replied, in a daze, then leaned over quick to the Elf on your left, who tensed and tried to lead his horse away. "Do you even see this guy?!"

You turned back to Goldie. "A gin?"

As best as he could in the saddle, the Elf placed his right arm over his chest and bowed at the waist. "I am called Glorfindel. Gellon len covad!"

"Mae l'ovannen!" You said in response.

Glorfindel smiled at you. "What was your question, mellonenin?"

"Well thanks to you and your blinding gold-ness, I forgot. Give me a minute." You thought for a second, trying to ignore the literally glowing Elf beside you. "Ah! That's it. I asked if you could speak Common so you'd understand my question. You guys have songs, right?"

Glorfindel gave you a look like you'd just told him his hair looked like an orc's. "Of course we have songs! Many, many songs! They are as timeless as we are, and we, all of us, are taught these songs from a very young age. Did you wish to learn them?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I've never been good at singing." If I sang all you Elves would shatter like a glass in an opera-room. "When I got puffed here, a song started going through my head. I can never remember all of it. Just bits and pieces here and there. But it's really bugging me. So if I told you all I could remember, think you could remember one from your Elvish past?"

Glorfindel inclined his head. "I shall answer to the best of my ability."

"Okay," You wracked your brain for the lyrics. "Okay, uh... Something about leaving home, and fading... Lots of fading. The one sentence I can always clearly remember is 'all shall fade.'" You looked at him curiously. "That ringin’ any bells?"

Glorfindel thought hard. "If by that you mean if I can remember anything similar, I cannot. If it is a song of Arda, it is not one I know, and I can remember most Eldar songs."

That caused a lightbulb to appear above your head. You gasped, wide-eyed.

"Wait! You're Glorfindel?! As in, the Glorfindel?! The guy in Gondolin who tried to protect Turgon by fighting the Balrog?!"

"Ah, Turgon... He was a good friend."

"And when it fell it grabbed your hair?!"

Glorfindel flinched. "Can we not mention that...?"

"And then you came back to life to fight Sauron?!"

"Yes--"

"The guy who was in love with Ecthelion of the Fountain?!"

Glorfindel flushed, his face going a deep shade of un-Elvish red-- on him, though, it was more of a rose-gold... "Yes, I am that Glorfindel, and I would advise you hush before you draw the attention of the Elvenqueen."

Nervously, you glanced ahead, to where the Elvenqueen sat regally upon her horse. If she or Leggy had heard you, neither of them made any indication of it. With a giddy smile, you looked back to Glory. "This is so cool. Where I'm from, you rarely ever meet anybody so important. Now I've met some of the most important people of Middle-Earth! Ooh, am I also gonna get to meet the king of Gondor?!"

Glorfindel looked confused, but amused. "Gondor has no king, and has not for many, many years. Not since the death of Isildur. Now, the stewards of Gondor keep watch over the city and uphold its laws, and await for the heir to the Gondorian royalty to show himself."

"Or herself," You specified, fighting a wince as you heard a voice echo, Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Hardly ever is a mortal woman given any sort of royal duties alone. She would have to marry someone of high standing to be considered queen."

You scoffed. "Great. So the humans of Middle-Earth are assholes, too. Figured I'd escape from that."

"The race of Man is a fickle one," Glorfindel agreed. "More often than not, they are the cause of most grief in the world." He smiled. "But worry not! You are of the Eldar now, and are not subject to their torments."

You shrugged. "Good point..." You beamed excitedly at him. "Tell me about your adventures!"

He did, until the Elvenqueen gave the signal to dismount and to keep silent. You'd been so into Glorfindel's stories that you hadn't noticed that the trees had thinned out, giving way to loose, rusty-brown soil and rocky slopes. All of the Elves sailed silently over the rocks, while the dwarves trampled noisily.

For days (Which passed like extremely-long hours, and you weren't even hungry or thirsty or tired.), the procession trekked through the hills without any audible communication, until the huge hills rose up to your left and in the north into jagged mountains. You kept going, and going, and really wondered how any of the Elves that'd been left could possibly reach any of you for backup if needed in time.

On what was about noon of the week and a half mark, you came to an overlook that spread down beneath you into a huge, rocky valley, dry and desolate. There was no sign of life, and further still, about a couple days away by foot, was another tall, jagged outcropping overlooking a massive structure of bronze. Small black dots which you were going to assume were birds flitted about the top of it, and it stretched what looked like hundreds of feet into the air. You were astonished.

"We came all this way for rocky dirt and an old tower. I don't see any signs of life there." You kept your voice at a whisper, like some of the other Elves who'd began talking amongst themselves.

Blue-Eyes eyed the tower warily. "You're not supposed to."

You turned to watch him walk away. "Then what?" Blue-Eyes gave the Elves some order in Elvish, and you continued. "So we came all this way to see that it really doesn't look like there's orcs there but really, there are, so, what do we do? They've obviously got a shit ton of more orcs behind there. We're probably way outnumbered. So what do we do?"

"We," He replied, "Are going to do just what we came here to do. We're going to scout, by getting as close as we can and seeing what we can. Then we leave. It's as simple as that. If, however, we're ambushed, the rest of the procession has been following us slowly. They're only a couple of hours behind."

You frowned. You must not've gotten that memo because everybody felt the need to speak highly advanced Elvish when you only knew a couple ways to say "hi." "So what do we do if we see something we don't like? Attack?"

"If we can," Blue-Eyes told you, "But it most likely will not come to that. We simply came to see if they have larger numbers than those few who attacked us at the river."

You gave him an incredulous look with an eyebrow raised nearly to your hairline. "...Few?"

He scoffed, and walked off, giving orders in Sindarin that you only caught a word or two of. You were watching him with a glower, when you noticed Lindir sidling up on your right smugly. "...Do you not wish that you know what he is saying?"

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Ugh, Lindy, geez, can you read my goddamn mind?" You turned to mock-glare at him; he was preening. "Well? What was he saying?"

Lindir laughed and wagged a finger at you-- so Elvish. "No no no no no, mellon, I will not make it that easy for you. If you wish to know exactly what he said, then you will have to continue learning from your current point."

Your shoulders slumped. "Really? Damn. Fine, I guess, since it looks like we're camping here." And it did. Practically everyone was going around setting up bedrolls, but you seen no sign of a fire. "Glad it's warm-ish. What, we just supposed to freeze?"

Lindir gestured to Gundabad. "If we light a fire, they will see us, and our stealth will be for naught."

You gave him an odd look. "...What?"

Lindir blinked. "If they see us, our stealth will be for naught."

You stared at him blankly. "...Naught?"

Lindir suddenly looked panicked. "Do they not have that word on your world? It means the same as nothing, in this context."

You scoffed with a cocky smirk. "I know what it means. You Elves are just so damn fancy." You reached over and ruffled his strangely-perfect brown hair, to which he yelped and yanked away from you as if you'd tried to stab him. You left your hand in the air where his head had been, wide-eyed, as Lindir stared at you in shock. "Uhh... Got a sensitive spot on your head there?"

Lindir narrowed his eyes at you. "I should teach you Eldar custom as well. No Elf touches another's hair, for whatever reason, unless it is necessary, which is more than likely never to happen. Braiding and touching another's hair is considered something only for the wedded to do."

You yanked your hand away from where his head had been. "Sorry. I didn't know. Where I come from, that whole hair-ruffle thing is used between siblings or friends."

Lindir smiled softly, straightening his hair. "It is fine, [Y/N.]. You had no way of knowing. But, now I realize I must teach you language and customs-- or perhaps Elros can do that..."

You snickered to yourself, earning an odd look from the Elf. You shrugged. "Nothin', just, I've got specific Elvish teachers now. You're my language teacher, Elros is now customs, Legolas is history, and Glorfindel is music. I'm gonna be a true Elf before I know it."

"Maybe never a true Elf," Lindir laughed, "But close enough!"

You laughed with him, but on the inside, winced. You doubted if he meant it as an insult, but it hit you like one. No, you'd never been considered good enough to be a true anything, especially an Elf of all creatures, who were naturally shiny and glowy and perfect and shit. But still, for someone to confirm it, even in a joking manner, that you'd never be good enough to be a true Elf...

It really hurt.

You acted all casual on the outside throughout the rest of the evening, laughing and joking when needed, but internally, you were fighting a dull ache in your chest. You'd gotten it a few times before-- rarely, but still-- and you knew exactly what it was. The desire to fit in. You'd never had a chance on Earth. But here, you'd hoped to at least be considered a part of their realm.

Dammit, why am I so sensitive?! He didn't mean anything by it!

But what were you really doing here? Struggling to prove yourself to a race that would never accept you. To all Elves, you'd be considered an imposter, like Thorin had said. You knew for a fact you'd never be good around "the race of Man," as they put it, and even in this world, you knew you'd never fit in with them, either. At best, the Men would see you only as a rebel Elf trying to fit into the society of Man. Dwarves? Hell no. What about the Hobbit-folk? Maybe you'd at least be considered a friend to them? No, you were an Elf here. They'd be wary of you, maybe even fearful.

Maybe you should just settle for traveling like a vagabond, like Gandalf does. When everyone else was resting, you stayed by Starlight. You scratched underneath of his chin, and he rested his snout on your inner elbow, allowing you to rest your head on his, staring into his eyes and putting off a feeling of calm. "You accept me for who I am, right?"

Starlight's ears were pricked toward you, so at least he was listening. His only response was a blink. You sighed, closing your eyes. You didn't even have the security of him. One day, he'd grow old and pass away, while you lived on for eons. Carefully, so as not to spook him, you reached up and scratched behind his ears.

"Mellonenin?" Said a voice behind you. You turned to see Legolas, looking concerned. He glanced back over his shoulder, to where the rest of the Elves talked amongst themselves, even conversating a little with the dwarves. "What are you doing out here?"

You gave him a smug look. "What's this I hear, Blue-Eyes? Showing concern for me?"

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Hardly. Just curious."

You shrugged, going back to loving on Starlight. "Everybody seemed to be doing good without me. Lindir and Elros said my lessons on custom and language were done for the day, so I figured I'd spend some time with Star."

Blue-Eyes shook his head in exasperation. "I will never understand your shortening of names..." He fixed you with an expression that you couldn't quite read. "...Are you nervous about a potential battle, Sairen?"

You shrugged. "Hack'n'slash. Can't be that hard. I have played video games, y'know, and I did get here through a LARP event." You shot him a cocky grin. "I think I can handle myself. Always have."

Blue-Eyes smiled softly. "Well... I am certain you will surpass my father's standards. I have no doubt of it."

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest. Your cheeks flushed. "Thanks. That really... That really means a lot, for you to be sure of me."

Blue-Eyes hummed thoughtfully, smoothing down Starlight's pitch mane. "Your world did not appreciate you as it should have. You are a kind person, Sairen, and while at times you are eccentric, that only adds to your persona. I know that I can put my full trust in you anytime, and not be disappointed." He smiled at you. "I am glad to know you, mellon. I feel as if you were meant to be here."

For a minute, you both just stared at each other with smiles on your faces, while you felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Any upset feelings from earlier completely burned away. His pale gold hair looked white in the moonlight. Fuck, I will not cry. I will not. Not at all. Definitely not even having to try... You finally blushed and looked away, busying yourself with straightening Starlight's forelock, though the smile remained on your face.

"Damn, Blue-Eyes. You're making me blush." He laughed, and you added, "But... I'm really glad I know you too, Leggy. You've been nice to me, and actually believe in me..." You smirked at him. "That's rare for me. Thank you."

He looked almost appalled. "You do not need to thank me for taking a liking to you, Sairen. It is not as if it is a chore." Suddenly making up his mind about something, he drew his shoulders back. "Would you like to go for a ride together?"

You beamed at him. "Duh! It's a horse, of course I wanna go for a ride!"

Blue-Eyes laughed. "Come on, then, let's go. Stay close to me; we will be going in the opposite direction of Gundabad, but orcs could still roam these wilds."

You nodded as you mounted Starlight, grinning stupidly down at the stupidly perfect Elf who smiled at you. "Got it. Let's go!"

Your heart was pounding dangerously as the two of you trotted off away from camp, talking about the history of Middle-Earth, as you tried to keep from staring outright at Legolas. As your heart faltered, looking at him smiling at you as the moonlight hit his hair, you realized something...

Shit.

Tag List:

@hauntedsiriel​ @tesserphantom​ @taurlel​ @liviaolivia​ @brushwood-souls​​ @dumbladores​​ @littlefrenchfryesblog​​ @hibernatingmadhatter​​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​​ @naryamirie​​ @legolasdeserveslove​​ @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​​ @sagabriar​​

If anyone wants to be added or if I missed anyone, please let me know!

[ambarto]

I’ve been having thoughts regarding Celebrimbor and the fact that he was born in Valinor, that his mother supposedly stayed there, and that we don’t know what Celebrimbor’s exact age is. Specifically, the fact we don’t know his age means he was could have been either an adult or a child when the Exile of the Noldor happened, and both possibilities raise interesting questions about his character.

Option 1: he was an adult when he left Valinor. If that is the case, then he most likely had good reasons to leave, or reasons that at least seemed good enough at the moment. There’s no indication that he ever swore the Oath, given what we know of his actions it’s more likely that he didn’t, meaning he wasn’t as passionate as the rest of his family when it came to the Silmarils. It’s possible he decided to leave Valinor either because he wanted to follow his family or because he wanted to see the world outside of Aman.

The fact he did not swear the Oath paints him as being at least more level-headed and cautious than the rest of his family. It’s also possible that being Feanor’s grandson rather than son meant Celebrimbor was less under Feanor’s influence. Regardless of the reason, I wonder if not swearing the Oath was a cause of strife between him and his family. Curufin was definitely one of the more passionate when it came to upholding the Oath, it could have caused issues between him and his son that Celebrimbor did not share the same drive towards taking back the Silmarils.

There is also the First Kinslaying to take into consideration: if Celebrimbor was an adult, he could have taken part in it. Yet it seems somewhat strange for him to have participated, when it was clear his moral sense was strong enough for him to cut ties with his family after Luthien. He’s the sort of person who would have at least spoken up against it, and he didn’t have the Oath driving him, it begs the question of why he’s never mentioned to have tried to stop his family, and why did he keep following them. It could be that not swearing the Oath was simply easier than not taking part in the Kinslaying: maybe Feanor didn’t ask him to swear, and Celebrimbor just kept his mouth shut, while when the Kinslaying came around he was actively ordered to do his part and couldn’t rebel. Or maybe, if him not swearing caused contrasts within his family, then he could have been pressured into obeying.

There is also the fact that Celebrimbor would have been a much softer, less jaded person than the Celebrimbor we see in Nargothrond. The Celebrimbor who repudiated his father is one who saw by then much battle, death and loss, not to mention his family spiral down in the way they did. The Celebrimbor at Alqualonde would have never have known violence before Finwe’s death, when the First Kinslaying came around he could have been simply so shocked and scared to know how to react. At time, Feanor was also still alive, and we know his charisma was what had everyone follow him, it could be Celebrimbor was also to some degree captivated by his grandfather’s words, while by Nargothrond that wonder had entirely disappeared.

We can paint in this way Celebrimbor as having more sense than his father, uncles and grandfather, but being to some degree unable to rebel, maybe out of love or maybe out of fear for the consequences, who grew harder as time passed by to the point that when Celegorm and Curufin kidnapped Luthien he had enough will to distance himself from those actions. A person who had a strong bond with his family, to follow them over the sea, but whose willingness to tolerate their wrongs, and maybe hope for them to change for the better, eventually ran out.

Option 2: he was not an adult when he left Valinor. Not an adult could mean many things, obviously, from being a small child to the equivalent of an adolescent in his late teens. If we go by the latter case, and consider him to be the Elf version of about 16-17, we could make considerations that are somewhat similar to what we did before, although perhaps we could exclude him taking active part in the First Kinslaying, given his young age. He would have already been able to his own decisions, although of course he wouldn’t have had the same awareness and maturity of an adult. In fact, the idea of him being more malleable to his family’s wishes and then growing more resistant that I discussed before would fit well with a Celebrimbor in his late adolescence. By Nargothrond he would have been an adult and wholly capable of thinking with his own head, but in Valinor he would have still been inexperienced and emotionally unprepared to speak up against family members that, as far as we know, had always been good to him for his whole childhood.

But let’s not consider Celebrimbor to have been a smaller child, developmentally around the age of 10 for example. The reason he did not swear the Oath at this point would be simply that he was too young to, and the reason he went to Beleriand that he was following his family.

Except. Celebrimbor’s mother stayed in Valinor. An adult, or almost one, would have had reasons to go when one of his parents didn’t, but a child? A child would have just wanted to stay with his parents. In fact, it would make more sense for Celebrimbor to have been left behind as well, given the journey was by far not a safe one. It could be someone asked him if he wanted to stay with his mom or his dad, but that is a horrible question to ask a child who cannot understand the magnitude of what he’s deciding. Sure, it’s possible he was closer to his father than his mother, being Curufin a smith and Celebrimbor having later become one, and it’s possible the idea of being separated from his mother was less scary than being separated from his whole paternal family, but he still shouldn’t have been the one to decide. Ultimately, it should have been up to his parents, and it’s disturbing to think perhaps Curufin decided to drag his young son with him instead of leaving him safe with his mother. Although, considering what we know of Curufin’s personality and darker moments, and the general Feanorian opinion of the Valar, it’s not impossible to imagine Curufin would have preferred to have his son with him rather than leaving him in Valinor.

This would mean that the Celebrimbor who repudiated his father was one who had an impossible amount of reasons to resent him. He would have very little memories of his happier childhood in Valinor, in comparison to the centuries he had spent in Beleriand in the shadow of Morgoth. Luthien’s kidnapping would have been the last drop after a lifetime of injustices. And keeping a girl captive away from her family, in particular, could have been a reminder of how Celebrimbor himself had been taken away from his mother at a far too young age when his father should have known better than to put him through all of what Beleriand was. And yet, at the same time, Curufin would have been the only parent Celebrimbor really knew, and Beleriand the only home he really lived in. The amount of childhood trauma this Celebrimbor would be carrying is kinda of terrifying.