#the royal house of doriath

[ladysternchen]

Putting all my head canons concerning the royal house of Doriath together here in one post so as not to flood @sindarweek with them xD (sorry about that. But they are my family within Arda and I do love them all very very very much and have just as much to say about them)

-My headcanon about Elmo's wife (whom I at last decided to name Thônwen)

-little fluffy Lúthien headcanon (I'm still going to write my full hc about her)- @lycheesodas brought that headcanon to life for me with her gorgeous art

-my headcanon on Sindarin burial rites -Elmo (my most beloved obscure character) -about Elwë and Elmo as brothers part one and part two and part three -on Galadhon and his family/descendants -and our beloved Queen, my female mc through almost all my works, the one part of my favourite characters... part one, part two, part three & part four -how I think the Girdle might have worked -and, with my 'headcanon-explained' yet unfinished, my <put in many words here>, Elu Thingol, part one, part two & part three (to be continued)

[stacytea]

[olessan]

🖤🕊️

Time to speculate on this completely innocuous emoji combination that is absolutely not a hint towards his character

99% chance his emoji choice means nothing, but given he knows his character, and a quote in the Deadline article pictured about not wanting to play villains, hmmm...

The only heraldry that fully fits a black heart and a dove is Telcontar, which is obviously not applying here because that's Aragorn's Reunited Kingdoms house. lol

The House of the Wing, Tuor's, has a wing but is on blue, and also Jamie's character is implied to be a main cast regular, so he cannot be a flashback character. That also rules out Eärendil and Thingol whose devices are also superficially similar, with a lot of black and then pointy bright elements

The house of Anarion's device is the classic Gondor white tree on black, no feathers, but the dove also has a branch, but the only other white winged bird is a swan.

If this IS an intentional hint, and he's hinting at Anarion, a swan may have been way too obvious and the dove is a more incognito choice

HOWEVER... Celeborn is of Doriath's royal house, so even though Thingol is his grand-uncle it could theoretically still be a hint to Thingol's device (white winged moon on a black field) that way, suggesting Celeborn?

[conundrumoftime]

More fandom things from my Twitter, this one about why I liked that Rings of Power set up Galadriel and Sauron as not just opposed to but mirroring each other, because - in some versions of Galadriel’s story as Tolkien developed it - they do have a fair amount in common.

Both are in Middle-earth as a result of rebellions against the Valar; both are offered a pardon that they refuse through pride & reluctance to give up power:

Sauron wanting to rule Middle-earth is pretty obvious but Galadriel’s desire is also for ‘dominion’ over her own lands - extending in one description to ‘the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed’:

And there’s similarity too in their Second Age stories about the form the power they desire takes. Both of them talk about wanting to free Middle-earth from the marring of Melkor and make it more Valinor-like (Annatar speaking in the first text photo there):

You could argue that Annatar’s probably lying here and feeding into what he knows the elves already want, but the idea of him wanting to rule a perfected, improved Middle-earth fits at least his earlier motives better than him wanting to wreck it:

And both of their prideful desires for rebellion and ruling are described as Morgoth’s influence acting upon them:

And it’s interesting that Sauron’s descent into tyranny is described as starting from an interest in the well-being of his people and then the power becoming an end in itself; and that Galadriel in LOTR seems to think she’d go the same way. (Third picture is Sam speaking to Galadriel in LOTR, after he's seen visions of bad things happening in the Shire)

All photos are mine, apologies for the terrible quality; they're from Unfinished Tales, the Silmarillion, Morgoth's Ring, and Lord of the Rings. If you want a more specific reference or context for any of them then ask away.

(I am going to ask nicely that people do not lift these images and use them for ship war ammo elsewhere. If you are doing this anyway, though, be aware that all of them have a faint watermark of Thingol's heraldic device, so you're now promoting the royal house of Doriath and Celeborn thanks you for your service 👍)

[southaway]

Here grass is still growing, And leaves are yet swinging

@imladrisweek : day four

Okay, so headcanon time again. (Idea taken from one of my mutuals who always has good takes) here's Erestor, originally a Sindar elf from Doriath and student of Daeron. I think after the fall of Doriath he accompanies Elwing and settles in Sirion and stays there until the third kinslaying. After the sack of Sirion he moves on to Lindon and eventually follows Elrond and ends up in Rivendell.

I figure he probably met Glorfindel in Lindon and they were both part of the initial group Elrond founded Imladris with. I like the idea that he always had some attachment to the Doriath royal house (I know at one point Tolkien played with the idea of him being a kinsman of Elrond). He was probably overjoyed when Elrond and Elros showed up alive. He and everyone else who survived Sirion probably assumed they were dead after what happened to Eluréd and Elurín ( and most of Thingol's direct descendants).

Anyway, I think he and Glorfindel were definitely drawn to Elrond because here is the legacy of the best of Sindar and Noldor, the heir of Thingol, of Turgon, of Eärendil and Elwing. I think they bond over that and their respective love and loss.

You decide what their relationship is, I'm not the boss of you

(This outfit/ styling is I think more of how Glorfindel dresses in the Second and Third Age, a little more laid back. He's tired, he already died once)

[lime-bucket]

Before reading the Luthien & Beren chapter i was bracing myself to be angry (or disapointed) at celegorm & pretty much any male charcter beside beren.unexpectedly i finshed it being livid towards her family

& u might think oh yeah thingol was an asshole fr what he done. But no. Im talking about that fucking melian

Up to that point,the story never shut up about how wiiiiise she is & how the queen can perceives things to come & shit like that

& YET SHE SAW NO PROBLEM WITH LOCKING HER DAUGHTER UP?? Like honest to eru how melian didnt had the tiniest of forsight that wont end in nothing short than a disaster

But again what did we expect from a character whose first interaction with future spouse is locked into a looong staring context

Further whats seems upsetting about luthiens home situation is the princess dynamics with her subjects or should i say the lack of it.like the story seems to implies she spend her time w/e any friends or at least an entourage,the only non royal elf that enteracts with her is the bard that snitch on her twice cuz he got butthurt hes friendzoned.

& tho ik the servants who built that tree house to imprison luthien cant be blamed as they were under orders to it sure didnt made me feel sad towards them when the elves grieved for their princesses absense.

Or rather, they seem to miss her dances & songs.. ik im paraphrasing here

Like idk it makes u wonder if luthien rlly did embark on that dangerous quest to get the silmarils only to be with beren or was there a desire somewhere in her to get out from a place where it seems shes perceived & treated as a treasure for her unique heritage.

For the fact luthien never returned to Doriath upon ber fathers violent death where her people would have needed her the most refuses to leave my head

[aran-morinorea]

posting non-euclidean nan elmoth with malicious intent

Then he bursts into tears.

He shouldn’t, he shouldn’t - he needs to keep it together, there are so many unknowns and for the first time since yesterday he can’t feel any predatory eyes on him and he doesn’t know how long that will stay true -

But for the first time since yesterday, he can’t feel anyone’s eyes on him, and with that immediate pressure released he is breathing so fast it hurts and sobbing like the world is ending. 

He should’ve - he should’ve had them moving faster. They knew they hadn’t found a well-hidden campsite, and they stopped anyway because they hadn’t stopped for two days before that, and they didn’t even finish setting up camp before they saw the warg-riders coming and had to get moving again, and then they all died - all the companions he’d had left, which were only half the ones he’d started with.

And this place. He knows where he is - where he probably is - where he’d expect to be based on a map. It must be Nan Elmoth, since it can’t be Doriath proper, but it doesn’t make sense. That’s the meeting-place of Thingol and Melian, there are some Sindar who live there, it’s a known entity. It’s not like Nan Dungortheb or something. What’s wrong with the trees? The paths? The darkness?

And - and there exists a person who can yank other people around like they’re on puppet strings by looking at them. And Laurefindelë is in his house. He said he had some kind of use for him and then did not elaborate. 

That person’s apparently related to Turukáno, if he’s really Írissë’s son, so he’s technically part of the royal family of Ondolindë and therefore directly outranks Laurefindelë. But he pretty clearly considers himself a Sinda, and -

Írissë is dead. She’s dead, and he can never fulfil his quest, and how is he possibly going to tell Turukáno - 

He isn’t. He would only have to worry about telling Turukáno if he were going to get out of here, and he doesn’t see how he could possibly manage that when he’s just walked into the enchanter’s house like an idiot -

It’s so dark. He doesn’t know how big the room is. He doesn’t even have a sense of how far away the door is. At this point he’s not even sure he remembers which direction it’s in.

It takes him a long time to run out of tears.

[elronds-library]

Can you recommend some good Silm F/F? Thanks!

Absolutely! For a canon work dominated by male characters, there's some good F/F out there. Here's a small selection of some of my favorites. If you were hoping for a specific pairing or rating, let me know :)

Indis/Miriel

let me in your atmosphere (E) - Míriel gifts Indis a strange new piece of clothing. Love and Loss (G) - Indis, and all she has to lose.

Including this one even though it's mostly about Feanor, because it's quite good:

Maker, Remade (T) - Fëanor is reborn, and speaks to the women in his life.

Idril/Elwing

as a river flowing into the sea (E) - Elwing knows she wants more than rehearsed speeches and pointed smiles at lords around council tables. She craves touch. She wants to taste. She wants Idril.

Luthien/Thuringwethil

Two in Shadows (E) - A kiss for luck, a kiss for memory, a kiss for each to walk free. They are both the same, in their own way. A Taste of Royal Blood (E) - Thuringwethil expected she had signed her doom when she let the princess of Doriath go free. But she may have saved herself in the process. every lover's got a little dagger in their hand (M) - There is no love without violence, Thuringwethil knows.

Galadriel/Melian

and when you start to feel the rush (E) - The thing about Artanis is, she wants to see everything, she does not want to miss a thing. I risk my life to make my name (E) - This is the tale of Ser Galadriel, the Lady of Light, one of the mightiest that dwelt in that great realm, and how she became one of the most fearsome sorceresses known to elvenkind - Gawain the Green Knight retelling, in which Ser Artanis learns a lot about herself The Patience of the Oak (G) - Galadriel is determined to show melian she is capable of more than Melian believes. Melian wonders if her pupil grasps her lessons.

Galadriel/Luthien

It's the Secret That We Keep (E) - In Doriath, Galadriel meets the love of her life. She also meets another of her great loves - the Princess Luthien, daughter of Melian the enchantress and skilled in her own right.

Okay, and because I can't help myself, here's a Silm/LotR pairing:

Eowyn/Tar-Miriel

A House of Nettles (E) - Eowyn is not healed. Inside of her, something hungry lives on.

Enjoy!

[searchingforserendipity25]

@finweanladiesweek | day 2. Lalwen & Findis.

Cordial Correspondence

Greetings and Highest Regards to Findis the Just, High Queen of the Noldor Across the Sea, wrote Gil-Galad, in his own hand.

Very like it was to Findis' own official writing, or Arafinwë's, as if learned from the same style - yet with its own elaborations.

It was something of a surprise. Gil-Galad, all knew, was formidable at worst and rueful at best. Arafinwë had said so himself; they two, who ruled together, kept little from each other. That was all he said: and then he had given her the letter, and left.

They kept little from each other, but there were a great many things they did not speak of easily. Already she could see the weariness and horror of war would be one such.

Findis wondered at it: raised up the paper of crushed bark, studied the characters for half-meanings before reading it. Here, a bold signature; here, an irreverent approach to consonants that would have infuriated Fëanáro, and had, whenever the creator of the Tengwar was requested by his father into giving calligraphy lessons to his siblings.

Half-siblings. Always everything parceled out carefully, among the royal family of the Noldor; even their names, even the crown.

Crowns, perhaps. The Queen in Tirion read the letter at last.

"O, for Manwë's sake," Findis said, and had to sit down on her own desk for an instant. 

It came to her then, clear as grass, the memory of her sister and her sister's writing, clear and lovely under the High-King's seal, the best trick Írime of the bright laughter pulled on the world.

No word ever came from the East, but grief was felt all the same, and the more keenly for coming without forewarning, with no address. When Fingolfin died, Indis had let out such a howl of grief -

Young Ingoldo, not so young now, brought only the barest news. Írime had crossed the Ice with Fingolfin's host, made herself quartermaster of the Noldor in the long Siege - Head Quartermaster, prodding all her nephews in their kingdoms for supplies and reparations and regular correspondence that that might not be enemies and strangers to each other.

She had made her wry smiling way to diplomacy with Elu Thingol in Doriath, stolen fair Melian's laughter to herself, a sound so lovely and terrible it multiplied the birds in the sky and called singing water to the wells. She has kept the armies fed, one  great battle after another: in the fighting, the defeat, and the flight. After the Nirnaeth - -

The Noldor had not so wealthy in capable and tolerable lords as once they had been. Lalwen, it appeared - so wrote the king, the stranger with the lilting vowels - had done the accounts, gathered the best and most loyal of her people, and arranged to die in a caravan ambush.

Across the sea, across centuries of separation, Findis reached out as she never had since her brother's death.

Gil-Galad called out to her, alive in her heart as her brothers had been. The king at war, whose hair and brows was rubbed clear of the charcoal stain Lalwen had used since youth to make her Vanaryan silver-brightness, in the times when the mingling between the ruling houses of the Eldar was a rare and ill-regarded thing had been relegated to the past.

Gil-Galad, clad in worn and polished armour, who had the friendship of Círdan in Sirion when few of the Noldor had any claim to it. Gil-Galad, righteous and just and of a provenance so uncertain as to please the dozen squabbling factions of the Noldor.

Findis of the Noldor was not notable for her joyful disposition; stern was she, fair of countenance and judgment, not very merry. But she did laugh then. Her sister had always known how to bring laughter out of her.

[ceescedasticity]

fic: well-behaved women (rarely make history)

Sixteen times Artanilmë Angarátiel failed to make it into the historical record.

1. Finwë's first great-grandchild might have drawn a great deal of attention. But Angaráto and Eldalótë were aware of this, and wary of it; they dwelled in Arafinwë's house near Alqualondë and visited Tirion only discreetly, until Artanilmë was no longer a child and also was not Finwë's only great-grandchild. (Nor was this itself notable: Curufinwë and Turukáno in turn also strictly limited their children's public appearances while they were children.)

2. Studying and practicing healing is just not a notable thing for a Noldorin woman to do, even in the royal house. It was more notable that she was one of the first to treat (accidental) sword injuries, and studied Lindarin techniques not dependent on the Valar in order to do so discreetly, but not being obvious about that was the entire point.

3. Artanilmë did not join the debate at the bonfires; with her brother, grandfather, father, uncles, and aunt already there, she felt any opinion she might offer would be superfluous. There were still many people suffering the effects of the Unlight, and others who had been injured in the panic of the Darkening. She was needed more elsewhere.

4. Perhaps it would have been noted had she acted on her impulse to refuse her aid to any Noldor injured in the Kinslaying at Alqualondë. (They had no right to expect the teachings of the Lindar to help them now.) But she looked to her duty, and swallowed her grief and rage to tend the wounded, though in stony silence.

5. No one was writing history while crossing the Grinding Ice, nor did anyone wish to speak of it afterwards. The brutal learning curve of the limits of healing when the healers themselves were at their limits was not discussed. Artanilmë nearly killing herself failing to save a child was not discussed. The reinvention of amputation was not discussed.

6. Arameldis was never the only one bringing Doriathrin medical knowledge to the Noldor and vice versa. There were healers of the Falathrim and the Northern Sindar who crossed the borders as freely, and the odd healer of Doriath who came forth, and Galadriel also learned and shared many things. And, regardless, none of that was thought interesting enough for anyone's annals.

7. Many Noldor reached out to provide aid and wisdom to the Edain. Not so many sought to learn from the Edain in turn, but Arameldis was certainly not alone in the House of Finarfin in doing so. The treatise she wrote on best practice for elven healers treating injury or illness of Men was of limited interest outside of the community of healers and some conscientious leaders.

8. Perhaps it would have been noted had Arameldis died with her father and uncle in the Dagor Bragollach. But she was ordered to lead the retreat and evacuation to Nargothrond, and followed those orders, and the journey was not as perilous as some.

9. When Beren came to Nargothrond, Arameldis was in the Falas, lending her skills to those without a hidden city to keep them safe. Had she been present, perhaps her strength and her counsel might have made some difference, or at least captured enough attention to be recorded; but she was not.

10. Had Arameldis returned while Celegorm and Curufin ruled in Nargothrond, she might have been able to stir the people to drive them out: She was not wounded as Orodreth was, and she was older and taken more seriously than Finduilas, and a battlefield healer must be able to stand her ground against irrational princes. But she suspected nothing of the state of things at home until Finrod's death.

11. Some in Nargothrond witnessed the debate of Orodreth and Arameldis over the Union of Maedhros. Voices were raised, tears were shed, and many of the arguments for and against joining were neatly summarized. It would likely have entered the histories of the First Age had any of the survivors of Nargothrond spoken of it. They did not. Survivors of Nargothrond seldom spoke of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

12. That Arameldis appeared for the Fifth Battle was far less notable than Gwindor's small defiant force. She went where she was needed in those days; it did not need to be said. No one thought she would be needed at Gwindor's side. If she tried to scream any orders from the rear no one took note of it.

13. Arameldis shed her share of the tears. She kept working until she was forcibly carried away by Mablung of Doriath. And she did not speak of it for anyone to write of it, save only: "I can recognize a mortal wound." This was, perhaps, too cryptic to be thought worth repeating.

14. Finduilas did not seek Arameldis's insight on the matter of Túrin. Why would she? Her aunt was very open that she had no experience in even simple matters of the heart. Arameldis was involved in what healing they could offer Gwindor. Obviously.

15. On the matter of the bridge and later Círdan's warnings she was publicly silent. When Orodreth sought her counsel in private, she had little to say. Venturing forth to seek battle was a terrible risk, evacuating in a large group was a terrible risk, and if they stayed where they were and did nothing they would surely die of internal injuries, metaphorically speaking. She had no conclusion.

16. Of course Arameldis rode out with the warriors of Nargothrond. Of course she was at Tumhalad. Of course she was slain. Of course none of the handful of survivors saw her fall. They could only say she was definitely dead, not captured, and while that was preferable it was also not noteworthy.

[ladysternchen]

Headcanon explained- Melian, part 4

Melian did everything, everything she could to prevent what she knew in her heart was unpreventable. She watched with increasing desperation as Elu bade the dwarves join the Silmaril and the Nauglamir, and as both her husband and the dwarves fell under the spell of the dragon, and become entangled in the lure of the Silmaril. Melian tried to talk Elu out of it, to make him see the danger he put himself into, but to no avail, so she stopped talking after a while. For one because it was futile anyway and she did not want to waste their remaining time arguing and for another because she really couldn’t contradict him, caught in his own logic as he was. So she savoured what moments they had (when he was not either locked up with the dwarves in the smithy or else sitting under some tree or other, seeking solitude and the calm and cool of the night) and did everything she could to make at least sure he knew there were no grievances between them, that she loved him unconditionally, and drew her strength from the knowledge that he felt the same towards her, whatever they had been through. Apart from that, there was not much she could do other than pray, for the first and last time in her life, begging for mercy, but her begging remained unanswered. She had thought that she was somewhat prepared for what was to come. Thought she had an idea of how to cope. Never had she been so mistaken, she realised that on the winter’s day that ended life as she had known these past Ages. Elu’s death tore her very being apart. Grief was one thing, she knew that well already. But grief was not the worst part of it. She felt maimed. Wounded to the death, only for her there was no death, not the oblivion of the Secondborn, not the healing in Mandos of the Firstborn. She sat beside Elu's body, stroking him even as his body lost its warmth, wishing for nothing more than to accompany him, to follow him to the Halls, but she knew she couldn’t. Nevertheless, she fled Beleriand even before they had buried his body, unable to bear it, shedding her own physical form by the shores of the sea. But even as spirit only, Melian found no relief, not in Lórien, nor anywhere else. She sang before Mandos’ walls, hoping with all her might that her song would reach Elu, make him know she was there.  She grieved for Lúthien even more, watching from afar as she and Beren passed on, wanting with all her heart to embrace her daughter just once more, but at the same time being utterly unable to. And Lúthien deserved to go on in bliss, that experience not marred by Melian’s pain. That was the one thing she could still do for her child. But she remained, feeling horribly alone. Melian pleaded with Námo to allow her into the Halls as well, but knew even before she asked that he could not grant it.

When word reached her about the second kinslaying, and about Dior’s fate, she busied herself for a time to speak in her grandson’s favour, doing all within her power so he might remain with his family, be counted among the people he identified with. When this was granted at long last, she slowly started to feel something like peace. The grief for Lúthien was present at all times, and equally present was her missing Elu, but slowly, she began to be herself again. Her sister-in-law was re-embodied, and Galadhon, and so many of those she had counted as family. When Elmo returned to them, bearing her Elu’s love, she at last followed Olwë’s earlier invitation and went to Alqualondë, making the havens her second home beside the gardens of Lórien. She could not pretend it was happiness. But it was peace. And she still hoped. Hoped for an after, for a reunion with her daughter at the end of all times. Hoped that somehow, anyhow, she would find a way to be with her husband again, be it as spirit only, be it wherever. She hoped. And through that hope, she was able to be.

[anghraine]

I just finished the Silmarillion and Faramir and Denethor being Numenor call backs feels waaaay more significant now. Damn. I knew vaguely what happens before reading but now I have a greater appreciation for the sense of scale involved here.

It also means I encountered the first age origins of some of the Stewards names (Denethor, Boromir, Finduilas) I was wondering if you had any thoughts on any connection or relevance to their lotr namesakes? It makes Faramir an even more interesting choice in terms of departure from that tradition (and then Elboron after him, I wonder now about the choice of the El- prefix)

Another Silm finisher! Welcome :D

And yeah, I remember realizing on a first read that something important was going on with the Númenor throwback thing, but reading the Akallabêth and being like "...oh" made it more powerful and complicated in a really intriguing way. And the dream of Númenor's destruction haunting Faramir can be understood without the Silm, but it's definitely more with it.

I think the namesake thing is mostly a Dúnadan tradition that's gone on so long that later Third Age people with those names are more likely to be named after previous Third Age people with those names than directly for First Age ones (it could be both simultaneously, of course, esp if First Age names form a lot of the common "pool" of Gondorian ones). We see those kinds of namesakes in the House of Dol Amroth, too (Morwen, Finduilas, at a remove Ivriniel), and also just some random Gondorian characters (like Húrin of the Keys).

"Our" Denethor and Boromir, say, are most likely named for Steward Denethor I and his own son, the Steward Boromir. But there might have been a lost reference going on with the previous Denethor and Boromir. And I suspect the Ruling Stewards made more of a point of using First Age heroic names than they had before (though they and others did do it outside the Ruling Stewardship) to underscore their royal/heroic origins as they became the functional ruling dynasty.

I don't imagine the choices were always "random First Age name that the parents liked"—potentially some were even prophetic in meaning or in terms of future resonance with the original bearers' lives. There could be other reasons, too. I imagine that the names of Finduilas and her sister Ivriniel reflect some sort of parental or familial preoccupation with the original Finduilas, say. And generally, I think a lot of the choices would have to do with cultural stature in Gondor—which might explain why there are a lot of references to Edain heroes and some to big name Elves, but not to the Fëanorians.

I'm rambling a bit, lol, but I do find it interesting. Faramir's name, far from the insult it's often taken as, is a name of literal royalty. We know that the Stewards before the Ruling Stewardship often took Quenya names to mark their royal origins, as did other families of royal descent (the royal family themselves always did it). So a royal Quenya name is actually weirdly suited to Faramir's role as the Steward/chief counselor/regent/etc for Aragorn, but I doubt either parent knew exactly that would happen when he was born—maybe Finduilas had some flash of insight as Dúnadan mothers sometimes do, though. It's appropriate in meaning for her personally at any rate (fára means shore).

The El- prefix for Faramir and Éowyn's son is very interesting, you're right! Considering Gondorian preoccupation with legends of the past and use of their names, it's hard to think there would be no association with the El- of the royal family of Doriath, including Elros. Faramir is a descendant, if remotely, but bringing that tradition back after thousands of years would certainly be an intriguing choice on his and Éowyn's parts. If it's not an allusion to Elros et al. but chosen for meaning, that's just "star" or (more loosely) "Elf," which is also rather peculiar. The -boron is a pretty obvious reference to Boromir, of course. I'll have to think about how I headcanon that particular one, actually.

Thanks for the ask!

[cycas]

..."the only known Prince of Mirkwood"

Are we now suggesting that nobody *knows* how many other children Thranduil has?

Like, OK, fine, we know for sure he has one. How many other children does he have? IDK, maybe zero, maybe five.

Presumably not more than 5 + Leggles because Feanor had seven and that was considered The Most Children among the elves.

This seems like the kind of thing that Elrond would have researched. He was a Herald! He'd definitely know the number of the children of an ex-Doriath royal house. Probably he's got portraits of them all in a book for reference in case one turns up at Rivendell.

Maybe Legolas's portrait has a note under it: 'least favorite'.

Poor Leggles.

This sounds like an argument among Pippin Took's sisters.

I find it fascinating that they let Legolas go on the journey, because speaking in terms of politics, letting the only known Prince of Mirkwood go on a life-threatening journey to Mordor, presumably, without letting the king of Mirkwood know, is batshit insane.

Random elf: my Lord, are we sure about this?

Elrond: Yup. Because if he does die and the mission fails, Thranduil will kill us faster than Sauron will.

[conundrumoftime]

Celedriel week ficlet for day 1

[screeching in sideways] it's not quite midnight here yet I have still made it for Day 1 of @celedrielweek!

For the theme of 'First meetings': as-yet-untitled, 1250 words, T for canon-typical violence/hunting I think.

-----

Thingol calls the three of them to a private audience and they arrive late and laughing as though they were still children to be scolded. They all know the matter at hand, anyway - there are few secrets in Menegroth that the king’s daughter and his nephews can’t find out between them.

“More Noldor,” Lúthien says, pretending it’s tiresome.

Her father corrects her, again: these are Teleri of Olwë’s kin. These are the brothers and sister of Angrod who already came to Doriath as a messenger. The children of Finarfin will be welcomed in Menegroth.

“They’re still Noldor!” Celeborn objects, a little louder than he’d intended. “Have we not dealt with enough of their kin claiming kingdoms all around us?”

Galathil says “Oh, shut up,” and Lúthien nods, the light of humour in her eyes belying her solemn expression. “If they’re here in Doriath then they can’t be claiming kingdoms elsewhere, can they?”

“Unless it’s Doriath they want.”

“Maybe you should ask them that when they get here.”

“Maybe you should ask them.”

“They are guests and we will receive them as such,” Thingol says, and the two of them fall quiet and Galathil smirks. “All three of you will be there in court robes this evening and you will all welcome them as your equals, the scions of a royal house. I will hear no comments about their kin unless they offer such and no demands to know their intentions. We will offer them shelter for they have faced great hardship in their journey to our lands.”

Celeborn who has heard too many tales of the cosseted Noldor says “Yes, sometimes it rains.“

 “Celeborn, take your brother’s advice and shut up or I’ll cement an alliance the way the dwarves do and marry you to Angrod’s sister.”

Celeborn concedes defeat and silence to the background of Lúthien’s laughter. 

—

They are Noldor. There is a dancing, unearthly light in their eyes and their golden hair is braided in twists and loops, although it seems less elaborately so than the host of Fëanor and tied only with thin, dull-coloured twine.  They all wear furs over faded and much-mended cloth garments, none of the finery of the Noldor that Celeborn has seen before; they themselves seem worn and tired. But they are still Noldor and they stand with their heads held high before the thrones of Doriath’s king and queen.

 Celeborn sits at Melian’s feet, Luthien and Galathil beside him. The heavy torc he wears for such occasions presses uncomfortably on his shoulders and the wine-red robes feel a little ridiculous before guests dressed so pitifully. He resists the impulse to scratch where a cuff irritates his wrist and watches.

Thingol and Melian lead the conversation, speaking in an older, archaic Telerin that Celeborn knows only from old sagas. Angrod bows deep and introduces his brothers with their Sindarin names: Finrod, Aegnor. And the sister’s name is Quenya still: Artanis.

She is tall and golden-haired as her brothers. When they all lay down their arms at Thingol’s feet she leaves a horn-handled knife beside theirs. She alone bears a Quenya name, though; and she alone has a stole of bright white fur over her shoulders, fastened at her neck with a tarnished, broken silver brooch.

He watches. He says nothing.

Only later, as they are led to dine at the feast prepared and he is seated beside Artanis (Lúthien’s idea of a joke, he supposes), does he try to speak to her. She and her brothers seem so faded against the bright colours and light of Menegroth; she does not seem particularly ashamed but she surely sees, she can’t not see. There’s a pride and defiance in her sharp eyes as she glances about her. He does not wish her to feel that Thingol’s court are purposefully humiliating her and her brothers. He does not wish her to feel humiliated at all.

“Your fur stole,” he says, and she doesn’t understand the word so he touches it to show her what he means, hoping a little too late that such contact will not be considered inappropriate by her people - “it - this - it is very fine.”

She nods, tense and a little suspicious still but seeming glad of the gesture of friendship. “Thank you,” she says.

“A gift?” 

She blinks at him as if the question is as strange to her as the language. “No,” she says. “It is mine,” and then breaks to ask something of her brother who sits at her other side, and then returns with the word she sought: “My kill.”

He isn’t sure what the Noldor hunt, and he doesn’t recognise what manner of animal this came from - the fur is thick but coarser than he’d thought and pure white. Not a deer, he thinks. “Mountain hare?” 

But she does not know the word for hare in his language, it seems, and he certainly does not know it in hers; rabbit is the closest they can reach and this makes her snort at him as if he has suggested something utterly ridiculous. 

“Morco,” she says, and he shakes his head, apologetic, but then she twists around to point at the pillar at the far end of the table where beasts of Beleriand are carved in a winding procession. And then she rises from her seat and leads him by the arm to show him herself, tapping her fingers on the snarling figure of a bear standing tall upon its hind legs. “Morco,” she says, satisfied.

“A bear?”

“In the snow. North.”

“You killed a bear?”

“Knife,” she says, pointing to the blade he wears at his belt. Then she lifts her braided hair from her shoulder to show him silver scars of puncture wounds left by great teeth.

He runs his hand once again over the fur of her stole, bowing his head in appreciation of what it means. Pride tugs a smile from the corner of her mouth. 

—-

“You realise I said that in jest,” Thingol tells him later. “I do not actually intend you marrying one of the Noldor.”

“I was merely being friendly to our guests as my king commanded, Uncle.” He’s a little drunk by then - more than a little, possibly - the feast has been long and the songs and the stories enjoyable, and the visiting children of Finarfin given as hearty a welcome as long-lost friends. And he’d had spoken to Artanis a few times more, but not in any manner other than as a host should, no more to it than that. 

Thingol had been ill at ease ever since news reached Doriath of the new host of Noldor arriving to join Fëanor’s. Understandable, yes, but surely no need to be quite so determined to see problems and plans and intentions where none exist. 

“I have raised you since your childhood,” Thingol says. “I know you.” But there’s no anger in it; he’s too relieved by how well the night has gone. “Ah, well. If you find yourself getting any ideas along such lines, simply remember the image of her covered in bear’s blood and that should dissuade you.”

Celeborn dismisses it with the wave of an arm, laughing, reassuring his uncle that there will be no need to dissuade anything; he has no intention of marrying one of the Noldor, of all the peoples of Middle-earth. 

(He will indeed find himself thinking of her covered in bear’s blood a great deal after tonight, but it will not dissuade him in the slightest.)

[tanoraqui]

I think the Silmarillion fandom is very inclined toward hindsight bias re: the homicidality and moreover the perceived homicidality of First Age Fëanorians. To be fair so is the text of The Silmarillion! But I do think it’s important, when considering political and social dynamics of Beleriand, to remember that:

the majority of kinslaying was 85% of the way through the First Age or later, AFTER everything else had gone to firmly hell first

for that matter, Celegorm & Curufin’s attempted coup of Nargothrond was 80% of the way through, when everything had gone halfway to hell first

the Doom mentioned the House of Fëanor specifically, and of course there’s the Oath, but the Doom very much included “and everyone who follows them” and nobody knew exactly what the Oath would lead to (see: point 1)

exactly 2 people are named in conjunction to the Kinslaying at Alqualondë. One is Fëanor, starting it. The other is Fingon, the Valiant, rescuer of kings and foiler of dragons and High Prince then King of the Noldor, ending it with “the foremost of the host of Fingolfin.”

With that in mind, I think a highly likely summary of Beleriand social/political dynamics is,

Fëanorians, on average: Fuck you all, we did what we did and we’re doing what we’re doing!! (But we did not mean to kill (so many) people to get here, and we’re even kinda glad Fingolfin & co are here for backup, because we may have bitten off more than we can chew. (Wasn’t it generous of King Maedhros to let him wear the crown for now?)

About 1/3 Fingolfin’s people: @Feanorians you bastards led us into kinslaying and Doom and then you burned the ships and LEFT US to suffer on the Ice. You TRAITORS.

About 2/3 Fingolfin’s host, especially those who ended up in Nargothrond and Gondolin: @Fëanorians you bastards led our people into kinslaying and Doom and then you burned the ships and left us to suffer on the Ice. You TRAITORS. / @the ‘foremost’ of Fingolfin’s host: Why the FUCK did you run in and start killing people; what the FUCK is wrong with you

Beleriand locals, led by Thingol: You’re ALL a bunch of lying kinslayers, some more duplicitous than the others I guess—except you, Finrod, you’re an angel and we’re delighted you’re here. Your followers are…alright. Have a third of the continent <3

A number of locals significantly less affiliated with Thingol and Doriath: …okay kinslaying is BAD, obviously, and ship-burning and abandonment…also bad, but less so. Definitely wasteful, definitely a dick move. Your royal family has weird internal feuds. But thank fuck someone is here with better weapons to aim at the Enemy so I can keep living on my farm rather than die or move to Doriath!

That said I can easily believe Fingolfin took general responsibility his people’s part in the Kinslaying, and even when apologizing, specific names of which of them took part, up to and including Fingon, were deliberately left out of the commonly known narrative. Better to have any given individual plausibly innocent (while potentially guilty) rather than some definitely guilty and the rest assumed still potentially guilty and lying about it! But I’m equally sure that detailed gossip from Noldorin infighting slipped through, albeit garbled. Just how much might’ve depended a great deal on specifically how Finarfin’s kids were all feeling about their eldest (full) cousin.

Tldr: for most of the First Age, if someone was side-eyeing the Fëanorians really hard over Alqualondë, they were almost certainly side-eyeing the Fingolfinians for the same reason, and if they were side-eyeing the Fëanorians over treachery/abandonment, it was equally based on hearsay and obvious old grudges, rather than anything they had done in sight in Beleriand.

[thevalleyisjolly]

More Elrond and Elros headcanons:

Elrond may resemble Lúthien, but his singing voice, while decent, is more suited to the mead-hall than a starry forest glade or the Halls of Mandos.  Elros, on the other hand, was once told by Maglor that if he applied himself to his music, he could quite possibly be the equal of Finrod Felagund himself one day in skill and power.   From that day on, the only song Elros would sing in Maglor’s presence was the Lay of Leithian.

Neither of them are vegetarians; however, Elros did become a pescatarian, and because Elrond had a seafood allergy, they often ended up having vegetarian meals simply because it was something they could both eat.

Technically, they have not seen their parents since the Third Kinslaying, apart from a brief sneaky shore visit from Eärendil during the War of Wrath.  Unofficially, a friendly albatross used to wing its way back and forth between Tol Eressëa and Númenor, following the trade ships, and if it happened to carry letters that ended up making their way to a white tower by the Sundering Sea or a royal hall in Armenelos, Ulmo shamelessly guilt-tripped the other Valar into overlooking the fact.

Neither of them were able to learn how to shapeshift in their youth, and it became moot point for Elros after the Choice.  Elrond once attempted to turn into a crow, but wound up stuck as a half bird person for seven whole months until Galadriel figured out how to reverse it.

Elrond spent the first five decades of the Second Age hanging around Men and learning from their lorekeepers, while Elros sometimes shadowed Gil-Galad and Círdan to learn non-Fëanorian leadership tactics.  Although they were not identical twins, this understandably caused the occasional bit of confusion about which one was which.

Elros never deliberately grew a beard, although with razors in limited supply on long sea voyages and brand new Valar-raised islands, he sometimes sported a respectable short beard.  Elrond did deliberately keep a scruff from the many post-apocalyptic lore-mastering trips he made in his youth, but Círdan advised him to either commit to a full beard or go clean-shaven because the scruff-look was too distracting.  A half-dozen people had already re-evaluated their sexuality, a dozen more were still in crisis, Círdan’s most reliable coxswain had been standing frozen in pure enchantment for a week, and he simply refused to deal with another Thingol-Melian situation.

Aranrúth and Narsil may be heirlooms of his House, but Elros personally preferred a spear and a shield when it came to combat.  It had nothing to do with Gil-Galad -fishing spears were common in Mortal fishing villages and Elros spent a lot of time with his people- although they did exchange the occasional tip or manoeuvre.

Both of them had the gift of foresight, but while Elrond received long-term big picture visions, Elros got the “You will stub your toe on that chair leg in three days” type of deal.  He used it primarily for cheap tricks.

There was some surprise when Gil-Galad appointed Elrond his herald and sent him to relieve Eregion, since up until that point, he had spent most of his time studying lore, mastering healing, and engaging in statecraft rather than practicing martial pursuits.  Then his soldiers saw him in battle and had an “Oh shit” moment when they realized that the reason he usually stayed out of the fighting yards was because Maglor Fëanorian had been his first teacher.

There was a period of time in their youth when they would braid silver into their hair in memory of Doriath.  It always upset Maglor terribly; he would go off by himself mumbling snatches of the Noldolantë.  Maedhros only smiled bitterly and, in a rare show of involvement in their upbringing, took them out on wilderness survival trips to practice woodcraft.

Contrary to what the Lindon rumour mill speculated, it was not Elrond who made out with Gil-Galad in the library after dark that one time.

The personal archives of Elros Tar-Minyatur were not among the artifacts rescued from Númenor before its destruction; however, an infant Meneldil was playing with a very old clay dog on wheels when he was hastily bundled onto one of his father’s ships.  Over 3000 years ago, Elros had clutched that same toy as Maglor’s servants tore him and Elrond away from the nursery; some years before that, one of Elwing’s nurses had quickly shoved it into her small hands to soothe her distress as they fled from Doriath.  Many years ago, in a peaceful little home in Tol Galen, Beren had once delighted his baby son with a set of lovingly crafted figurines of Papa, Mama, and their good friends Huan and Uncle Felagund.  Uncle Felagund got lost during a picnic, Mama Lúthien was accidentally left behind when they returned to Doriath, and Elúred and Elúrin had been playing with (Grand)Papa Beren when the Fëanorians came.

Elros’ favourite birds were ducks.  Elrond is personally fond of geese, but agreed with Celebrían that raising both geese and children at the same time was just adding more stress to their lives.

For nearly 6000 years, the sea has always seemed to become especially frothy whenever Elrond steps on a ship or walks along its shore.  Much to the dismay of the Hobbits (and Gandalf, though he will never admit it), their entire sailing to Valinor is accompanied by cresting waves capped with glittering sea-foam.