#the sons of fëanor imagine

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

The five kingdoms of the sons of Fëanor: part 1

Himring and the March of Maedhros

Warning. This post contains mentions of weapons use | animal death | orc death | use of animal parts | use of alcohol

✴️ Maedhros's lordship ushers in a culture that centers on highly trained warriors and military service. Himring and the March of Maedhros are soon dotted with heavily fortified fortresses made of rough-hewn stone. 

✴️ The interiors of these buildings are decorated with animal pelt rugs and antlers, featherbeds that are mostly made out of softer animal furs, and furniture that is more practical than elegant. Maedhros's own fortress has a map carved onto the table in his council chamber. 

✴️ There is no discrimination when it comes to military service. Any elf, irrespective of their gender, can take up arms if they have the necessary skills for wielding weapons. Those with exceptional skills are sometimes invited to learn under Meadhros himself. 

✴️ Military training, while taking up the majority of most elves' time, is not the only activity in their day-to-day lives. Given the harshness of the terrain, there is very little farming. Foraging for root vegetables and wild berries is quite common, along with hunting and fishing. Mountain goats are eventually captured and domesticated for their meat and milk. Diary-based foods such as cream, berries, meat, and fish make up the majority of the diet for those who live in Himring and the March. Mares’ milk is fermented to make an alcoholic beverage that the elves drink in the absence of wine. 

✴️ In the beginning, the fashions in and around Himring consisted of fur and leather decorated with beads and bones and feathers. Later on, when order fully set in, colors obtained from natural dyes found their way onto clothes worn by elves in the form of elaborate embroidery. This embroidery would take the form of the lands that Hithrim sits on, its animals, and the tales of valor of the elves who live within. 

✴️ Of the smithies, there are only three, with the largest found in Maedhros' fortress; cutting down trees for reasons other than warmth and cooking and the making of spears, bows, and arrows is not seen as wise. 

✴️ While there are riders who take messages between fortresses and outposts and homes, great signal fires are also used, in case orc movements are sighted.

✴️ What jewels are there in elven families are carefully kept, and lent out to kin only when needed. Because of this, elves turn to feathers, animal bones, and teeth for bodily adornments, especially the parts of an animal that are killed during an elf's first hunt. 

✴️ A similar attitude is adopted towards weapons and armor made in Valinor. These are treated with great care, and elves routinely take metal arrowheads, swords, shields and anything else they can make use of from dead orcs. 

✴️ Life in Himring and the March is quite restrictive due to the nearness of Angband and the constant attacks by its forces. Elves have to always be on guard. Because of this, feasts and frolics are few and far between and, if held, are kept to a modest scale. Storytelling is the highlight of the evening. Elflings who were born after the crossing into Middle Earth often ask for stories of Valinor. 

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

'For what end? To overthrow the Shadow, or if that may not be, to keep it from spreading once more over all Middle-earth—to defend the Children of Eru, Andreth, all the Children and not the proud Eldar only!'

'I had heard,' said Andreth, 'that it was to regain your treasure that your Enemy had stolen; but maybe the House of Finarfin is not at one with the Sons of Fëanor.'

andreth shading the feanorians and rightly pointing out that they do not have good intentions toward her and her people, we love to see it <3

[lovefairymina]

Me: *Looks at Feanor, thinking how his mother invented dying, refused to come back for her son, how his father invented remarrying, died a horrific and violent death, was manipulated by The Dark Lord himself, took an oath that doomed him into a life of violence and suffering, and died unfulfilled, never reaching the three shiny rocks that had become his everything. Cries*

Feanor: Why are you crying?

Me: I stubbed my toe.

Feanor: And you're crying?

Me: I stubbed it really hard.

Raising an eyebrow, his gaze flickering between you and the ground. “You are an odd one,” he muttered, before turning away, clearly unimpressed, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “A stubbed toe. Truly a tragedy.”

[memoriapraeteritorumbonorum]

The Sons of Fëanor behind closed doors

Author’s note: A collection of random intimate moments between you and your favorite Fëanorian. Part 1/? There will definitely be more parts to this!

-

Caranthir

Carnistir always runs warm

It doesn’t matter how cold it is outside, his temperature never seems to drop. Must be his blood cuz its boiling  

In the evening, you’ll find him looking through the bookshelves in your chambers, thinking about which one he’s going to read to you

This is a routine you have established quite early on, him being a bookworm and you loving the sound of his voice and storytelling abilities 

He always comes back to join you right when your feet start getting cold. The second he sits down beside you, you bury them underneath his legs, certified personal heater 

He shudders at the coldness and shoots you an annoyed look, scolding you about how you should put on socks. 

"You’re going to catch a cold." 

"Not when I have you right here!" You grin and are met with him rolling his eyes 

When he opens the book, you throw your arms around his neck and look over his shoulder, waiting for him to start reading, but he just seems to be flipping through the pages aimlessly, too distracted by your sudden proximity

His face grows redder with every second

You snuggle into his hot cheek, and he feels you smile against his skin.

How is he supposed to focus?? Manz is flustered

"You do remember where we left off, right?" You ask teasingly, he just clears his throat and mutters something about chapter three. When he finally finds the chapter he lets out a breath he seemed to be holding forever 

Is it hot in here? Nope, just Cara’s body temperature which is off the charts by now 

There’s something about his reading voice, the way it sounds soft like a velvet blanket, yet so sharp

And though you’d love to listen to the story, the exhaustion takes over you, leaving you half asleep on his shoulder near the chapter’s end

He puts down the book and rests his head against yours for a moment, secretly smiling to himself in pure bliss before gently picking you up and carrying you to bed

Eru, the things you do to him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way 

Maedhros

This gentle giant loves it when you play with his hands

He noticed a long time ago how fidgety you would get whenever something was making you nervous

Your anxiety shows itself in you cracking your knuckles, playing with the rings on your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your clothing 

Sometimes, however, you wouldn’t have anything to help reduce your anxiety 

He made it a habit to look for that twitch in your fingers, and whenever that happens, he just takes your hands into his

And since his hands are significantly larger than yours, it would only take one of them to encapsulate both of yours, and squeeze them reassuringly (we’re obviously talking pre-oath here oop) while the other tends to whatever it is he was doing before

Although open displays of affection are frowned upon, he considers your comfort more important than the judgement he would receive 

Let’s be real, nobody would dare to ever voice their disapproval. It’s Maedhros they’re talking to, zero fucks given here

This morning, you have been sitting next to Mai in a meeting for the longest time when one of the attendees decides to criticize some of the contributions you have made earlier. You freeze. Heart starts beating impossibly fast at the tone of his voice, pointed and condescending. Eru. Do you answer? Are you supposed to answer?! He’s looking right at you. Eruerueru-

The second Mai’s hand finds yours under the table, the tension leaves your body. 

You take it with an urgency he recognizes all too well. One of your hands holds on to his wrist while the fingers on your other one intertwine themselves with his, your thumb drawing hectic circles into his cool skin. Your grip on his wrist tightens at times and you take deep breaths, trying to remain in control 

You let go of his wrist and trace the veins on the back of his hand, trying to memorize the way his skin feels on yours, before you turn his hand around in your lap and do the same thing with the lines on his palm

His hand is relaxed in your grip, gradually transferring some of that energy to you

He’s just so tall and self assured — the complete opposite of your current state — you could find solace in his presence alone if it weren’t for your itching fingers 

Your movements become slower the longer you stay in contact with him

It’s like his fëa gathers in his hand, knowing you need it to touch you directly to come to your senses

And so the rush wears off, eventually the attendee stops talking and you are able to form a response that is just coherent enough to be said out loud in this setting

And as a result of your bond and the indemmar emerging from it, Maitimo proceeds to expand your argument in his own words, closing the case gracefully as ever without letting anything show 

You don’t know what you’d do without him, especially in situations like these 

Maglor

Contrary to popular belief, Makalaurë is a clumsy individual 

You have to give that to him, his mind seems to be running nonstop, I imagine him to always be on the edge of sensory overload — just look at the world around you, how could you not want to capture every single aspect of it in poetry and song? 

So, naturally, he’s not always fully present, at least not when he’s scribbling things on paper

You can tell whether to talk to him or leave him to his affairs by the way he’s sitting, the speed and loudness of the quill on his paper.

The more he hunches his back, the more he squints his eyes, chews on his lower lip, the messier his handwriting appears, the jerkier he moves the quill — that’s when you know not to disturb him

Although sometimes, you yourself are quite preoccupied and forget about it

"LAURË!" you call out as you burst into his room, feet stomping on the wooden planks so enthusiastically their creaking could be mistaken for a cat screaming after having been stepped on its tail 

Poor Laurë is so startled, he jumps out of his skin, dies and is reborn all at once

The quill in his hand slides across the paper with the sudden movement of his arm and, yikes, the ink pot is sent flying along with pieces of parchment

He yells, eyes wide, hands in the air, frozen in place, a literal deer in the headlights

You stop dead in your tracks and cover your mouth in shock, immediately regretting your loud entry

"ERU, Y/N, DON’T DO THIS TO ME" "I’M SO SORRY!!" "WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?!" "I DON’T KNOW!!"

The last piece of paper lands on the ground, the air settles down and only then do you see the damage — splotches of ink are littered all over his desk and notes, his hands and sleeves. He sits there, with his upper body turned towards you, staring at his work on the floor, slowly breaking out of his state of shock and moving to pick it up with shaky hands

You hate to admit it to yourself, but he’s so unintentionally funny with his big eyes and startled movements. You can see how he’s trying to coordinate his thoughts again as his hands reach for each piece of paper below, sometimes grabbing the air instead of the actual object 

Somebody help this man

And Eru forbid, when he sees the spilled ink on his notes, he goes through all the stages of grief right in front of your eyes and you feel even worse for the laughter that’s bubbling up inside of you

He’s like a sloth, slowly collecting his belongings with calculating eyes

You hastily step to his side and help him arrange everything on the desk, then proceed to get a washcloth to wipe away the spilled ink

When you’re finished, you are met with judgemental eyes 

"I’m sorry, I’m really sorry," you manage to get out before the laughter bursts out of you. Laurë huffs and before you know it, his blue fingertips smear the leftover ink across your face

"Hey!" you yelp when he picks you up and carries you outside

If it weren’t for the loud breath he lets out through his nose, you would have thought he was really mad at you, but he just puts you back down, trying his hardest to hide his smile upon seeing the blue lines on your face 

"I’ll just come back later," you purse your lips and look up at him. He shakes his head at the mischievous twinkle in your eyes before leaning down to kiss the top of your head and then slamming the door in your face lol 

Celegorm

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that Tyelko loves nature

You, on the other hand, have certain things you’d prefer to stay away from, such as spiders 

And as much as you love him, his "conquer your fear" mindset is anything but dear to you. You’re a firm believer of respecting people’s fears and not forcing them to change that, whereas he thinks practically and doesn’t always consider your thoughts, such as right now

He came running into your room when he had heard you scream in fear, ready to attack whatever was threatening you, or so he thought 

So there you are, standing on a chair, pointing at the spider in his hand

"Tyelkormo, I swear on my life, if you come any closer-" 

"Y/N, you can’t be serious, it’s tiny." "I don’t care!" You yell, slowly stepping down from the chair and backing up

He smirks "You can’t be that scared, love" 

And all the alarms in your head go off when he steps closer to you, spider enclosed in his hand that is extended towards you

When your back hits the wall, you know you’re done for

"Tyelko-" "Just look at it!" He laughs at your reaction, knowing he won’t actually do anything. Deep down, you know it too, but he just loves to poke fun at you and you fall for it every single time

You think he'd leave it at that, but he actually dares to open his hand and of course, the spider jumps out in a frenzy, beginning to rope itself down from the palm of his hand

And you SCREAM, poor Tyelko actually has to cover his ears that's what he gets

The spider hurries away into some corner and you make a leap for the bed, grab a pillow and throw it at Tyelko, yelling at him to take it outside

When he finally does, your rage is still very much present and you take another pillow from behind you and hit him repeatedly

"Don't-" hit. "you-" hit. "ever-" hit. "do-" hit. "that-" hit. "again-" hit. "do-" hit. "you-" hit. "understand-" hit. "you're so annoying!!!"

He's obviously unfazed, if anything his smirk has grown even bigger

His arms snake around your waist and pull you close, cradling your head in his hand

"Did you seriously think I was going to let that spider harm you? You're so easy to tease, love"

Curufin

"Close your eyes," he instructs softly before carefully placing the item in your hands. He spent hours working on this, both scared and excited for your reaction

When he tells you to open your eyes again, they fall on a set of beautiful earrings. But that's not what makes you tear up!

Months ago, you had mentioned how much you missed the color of forget-me-nots in the winter time. It was a silly little thought you had voiced on a leisurely stroll with him on a rather cold morning, not expecting him to actually take it to heart like this

But here you are, in your hand these rose gold earrings, shaped like forget-me-nots, with little shimmering gems in the center — the same color as your favorite spring flower.

"Curufin!" you gasp, looking up at him

He just smiles and for the first time ever, he looks flustered, bashful, even

He's always so calm, stoic and levelheaded. To see him deliver a gesture like this is unusual to say the least

"Here, let me help you put them on," he gently takes the earrings out of your hands with his calloused fingers

You notice a band-aid on his left index finger, did he hurt himself when crafting these?

Once the earrings are on, you step in front of the mirror and Eru, the smile that blooms on your face almost makes his heart stop

Curvo was never one to display a lot of emotion, he just never deemed it necessary

But seeing you touched like this made him question what was so bad about letting his guard down sometimes

Especially when you would look at him, and his heart would erupt into a million tiny butterflies upon the effects of his gesture

Amrod

You're sat on the wooden fence framing the fields close to your estate, watching the cows

The sun is just about to set and you catch yourself staring at him

"Is there something on my face?" he suddenly asks and raises his eyebrows, you're caught in the act

Quick, think of something to save yourself from the embarrassment!!! Or else he'll never stop teasing you about this!!!

So you flick his forehead and watch him open his mouth in protest

"Hey!" "What are you gonna do, Pityo?"

You stick your tongue out and jump down into the high grass, watching him do the same, ready to follow you for some revenge

The air is quiet, and the first fireflies are already buzzing around the fields when he starts chasing you through the flowers

Your giggles and screams make the cows raise their heads one by one, disturbed by these two strange creatures running around them

Usually, Amrod knows not to run too close to the cows as it would agitate them, but he's just too caught up in the way your laughter tickles his pointed ears and the way your h/c hair flows in the wind — he doesn't notice one of them standing closer to him than he has anticipated

So yeah, poor unfortunate Pityo bumps into that cow. And he stumbles. And falls. And when he realizes what he's fallen into, he yells. And when you realize what he's fallen into, he's done for

"NO WAY!!!!" "STOP"

He gets up and looks down at his linen shirt which is now an earthy, lovely shade of brown

When you come closer, you see the blush on his cheeks, his ears growing redder and redder

"Not a word to my brothers!" he warns, pointing his finger at you

"What do I get in return?" you ask and clasp your hands in front of your body, a shit-eating grin on your face pun intended

He looks around helplessly, trying to come up with something to keep you from running off to tell everyone about this mishap

He just huffs in defeat, shoulders slacking "I'll do whatever you want, just don't tell them."

You don't know why, but seeing him at your mercy like this makes you feel bolder than usual

"Kiss me." It's a short and sweet proposal.

You can see in his face that he's expected anything but this, because manz GASPS and is frozen in place

He's been crushing on you for quite some time, and the two of you certainly shared a cheeky bond, constantly teasing each other in a loving way, but kissing you???

He's at a loss for words and just stares at you in disbelief, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to reply but failing miserably

You've never seen him so flustered when he usually has a snarky comeback for every situation. He's so cute.

You carefully take a few steps closer to him until you're a few centimetres apart and look up at him with a timid smile, waiting for his reaction. And he gazes into your eyes with a newfound vulnerability that makes your heart beat a lot faster than it already does

And when he finally makes up his mind and decides to go for it, the sun has set

His lips hover over yours before softly laying themselves upon yours like a secret in the dark, only to be whispered aloud in your presence

Amras

"Telvo, I'm really tired, how much longer do we have to walk?" you ask, the ache in your feet is almost unbearable at this point

He came into your room this morning, asking you to accompany him on his quest to find mushrooms to try an old recipe for a stew he had found in the library

You don't know how many times he's already come knocking at your door demanding your help for the most trivial things, but you comply every time, you just can't help it. Some of your best adventures are made with him

So there you are, wandering along the path leading back to your home, your apron full of mushrooms of all kind, Telvo walking in front of you with that bounce in his step indicating his good mood

"We're almost there, look!" He points towards the house on the edge of the valley you're passing through, although it's a bit too far for your liking

You groan, stumbling over a root sticking out from beneath you and having the mushrooms tumble all over the ground

"Oh no..." you sigh, looking up at your companion who's surprised at your exhaustion

"Are you alright? I'm sorry if I made you walk too much!" He stammers, crouching to pick up the mushrooms and put them back into your apron, which you had folded into a makeshift bag

Once they're all in there, he turns his back to you and gestures for you to hop on, which you do gladly

"Y/N, Y/N, you're spending too much time indoors. Look at how exhausted you are!" he snickers and resumes his trip towards your house. You just snuggle into his shoulder and blow into his ear

"Not everyone can run around in the forest all day, you know?" to which he just shakes his head and laughs

Once you're inside, you begin to prepare the stew, bickering and joking around all the while

"Eru, hopefully this will taste good. Where did you even find that recipe?"

He tells you about a collection of old, dusty books hidden away in his father's library. Some traveller had devised this recipe a long time ago. It's said to warm you from within with its unique taste. You could listen to his rambling for hours. He's always had a talent for discovering the most random things and taking them straight to you, his partner in crime and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Once the stew is done, you dig in, and who would have thought? A blissful warmth spreads throughout your bodies, caressing your bellies and putting satisfied smiles onto your faces

"Told you it was gonna taste good," he mumbles and winks, beckoning you to come and sit next to him so you could enjoy the incoming food coma together

He really is full of peculiar ideas, your beloved redhead

[corsairspade]

there are many reasons I like the "Erestor son of Caranthir" headcanon but secretly the main one is that I'm imagining all of the remaining noldo auditors sighing of relief when Caranthir dies and they don't have to try play 4d chess with multiverse time travel trying to catch this guy doing tax evasion. life is good for exilic auditors now.

and then suddenly Elrond and Elros turn up again! even better! oh who's this, Elrond? your good friend Erestor? he's helping you with your taxes? oh how swe- what is this Elrond. What is this. your paperwork for your taxes you say. not a declaration of war? because it looks like a declaration of war on the exilic auditors, Elrond.

and then all the auditors are so busy doing "extreme tax auditing™" for the first time since the second Kinslaying that they don't tell anyone they're pretty sure there's another scion of the house of Fëanor running around.

[lyragoth]

LyraGoth series Sons of Fëanor. Posting in age order.

Yay. First drawings of 2025 and first time rendering backgrounds.

Some hcs: The brothers are physically affectionate <3 but, like most siblings, they also drive each other crazy. They’re a mafia-like family, bound by blood and oath, with (pretty much) only each other to rely on.

For Maedhros’ hand, I imagine a magical-metal-prosthetic crafted by Curufin—no screws, just brilliance and enchantment *-* The reference was T-1000 from Terminator 2.  Tyelko’s style mixes influences from Icelandic Vikings and native Brazilians—my home countries. He and Curufin wear matching Star of Fëanor jewelry.

Also, I did my best to give Carnistir his iconic red face XD

Lastly, Curufin is my favorite. I have countless hcs about him, many of which diverge from fanom (and that’s fine). But for now, I'll just say that I think he looks even more beautiful when he smiles.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Thingol, Luthien, and Dior’s claim to the silmaril bugs the living daylights outta me and I’m gonna break down why. This goes a bit beyond ownership laws.

Starting with basics. What are the silmarils? Gems created by Fëanor that hold the light of the Two Trees. Who in Beleriand saw the light of the trees and no doubt misses it like a limb? Are here in part to avenge their destruction? The Noldor.

The Sindar never went to Valinor. They might find the gems beautiful but that’s it. There’s no cultural or emotional connection to them beyond ‘pretty stone, look how awesome our princess was.’ There’s no appreciation for what they hold. No understanding that this stone is one of the *last* things that holds the ancient light of the Trees.

The Noldor meanwhile not only saw the Light, they had entire festivals surrounding it. Grew their entire culture, their lives, under and around it. Now the trees are destroyed, their king killed defending these jewels. And this last beacon of hope, a piece of the home they can never return to, a piece of light that will never come back, is being kept by people who can’t even begin to understand the significance of what they keep.

Now imagine being the sons of the one who made this jewel from a culture of people who value craft above all else.

Not only is it light, it’s the result of years of toil and experimentation of your father, the one who managed to do what no one had ever even thought of. Fëanor’s sons would have been the first to see these jewels, probably saw him make prototypes, work equations whilst they worked on their own crafts. Provided what relief they could to his ever working mind and inadvertently gave him ideas that helped solve problems he encountered along the way. Suddenly it’s not only a key part of their culture, it’s something core to their family.

Then Fëanor is killed and in many ways it’s the most important thing they have left of their father. Now it’s a source of memory too, for someone doomed to the Halls for eternity. Who they’ll likely never see again unless they’re killed.

Now from what I’ve heard, Tolkien says the Fëanorions lost their right to the Silmarils when they killed for them. Which makes no sense considering the Silmarils were *created* by Fëanor. Yes the light was created by the Valar, but what, you’re gonna say ‘I created electricity so that lightbulb you made is actually mine.’ That’s not how it works. Fëanor made the casing for the stones and figured out how to hold the light, without aid from the Valar. It doesn’t matter what actions they take, the right to the Silmarils remain theirs and theirs alone. The jewels hold no power of their own, they’re literally objects. Healing objects at most. Morals do not dictate their ownership, hallowed or not.

Tolkien going on to say the right of Doriath’s Silmaril actually goes to Beren and Luthien for taking it from Morgoth gives me frankly coloniser vibes.

‘Oh this thing I stole was originally stolen from you? Too bad. I took it so it’s mine now. Don’t care how important it is to you, your entire culture, and your people.’

Get where I’m coming from?

All in all the whole situation gives me Bad Vibes and I really don’t like the attitude the Sindar have to the Silmaril. In terms of Elwing, I can partly forgive her purely based on trauma response. Fine. Doesn’t make it right, but I understand. But that never would’ve been a problem if her father, grandmother, or great grandfather had the sense to acknowledge the silmaril was never theirs to keep. Don’t like the Fëanorions, (too bad) at least give it back to the Noldor.

[neyafromfrance95]

galadriel & sauron vs. morgoth theory + trop.

we all love the theory that sauron and galadriel would eventually fight side by side against morgoth.

if u think about it, trop is a perfect groundwork for this theory.

in trop, it is implied that sauron and galadriel meet by eru's design and their connection is destined. but why?

sure, galadriel has a hand in sauron's defeat, but so do many others. why does galadriel and sauron's relationship have to be so special and significant on the cosmic scales, above everything else?

in lotr, galadriel passes the test by the end of the 3rd age. she outgrows her pride and selfish need to rule without sharing her power with anyone and determination to rule the middle-earth even if it means becoming a terrible tyrant.

but it's interesting how later frodo sees galadriel through her phial's light:

“frodo took the phial, and for a moment as it shone between them, he saw her again standing like a queen, great and beautiful, but no longer terrible. he bowed, but found no words to say.”

i wonder if this is a subtle implication that galadriel has finally became worthy of succeeding her father one day. her father is the high king of the elves in valinor, and while he has sons, no one is as great as galadriel. tolkien himself commented on galadriel's commanding stature in valinor - "the equal if not unlike in endowments of fëanor." and "(galadriel) being mighty among the eldar, obtained this grace (entering valinor) for him (gimli)."

it has been generally agreed upon that since tolkien wrote several versions of it, galadriel’s story is convoluted, contradictory and inconsistent. but one thing has always remained at the core of her characterization - she is a politician who desires to be a leader. so ofc she would still be a politician in valinor, but it's interesting to imagine she would become a queen after outgrowing her greed and her time in the middle-earth was a neccessary test to shape her into a perfect leader.

considering trop canon, it can be said that even after everything, if sauron was to repent, galadriel would be the one to vouch for him or bring him up in a conversation regarding the battle against morgoth (and the first of all valinor to march to fight again).

another thing to note is that now, the only connection to the physical world sauron would have after the destruction of the one ring is galadriel's scar that binds them by blood! they have been bound by the sea, their admission of cosmic connection, nenya, and their souls are basically merged.

trop interestingly underlines the undertones of galadriel and sauron's comparability - they are mirrors that represent the light and the dark, but also galadriel is a natural born leader and sauron is a natural born follower. underneath sauron's desire to possess her, is the desire to serve and worship her as his queen!

and more importantly, his repentant phase in the show was when he was following her, when his presence actually was healing for galadriel.

so what does all of this have to do with haladriel vs. morgoth theory and how trop lays a groundwork for it?

galadriel's authority in valinor, sauron being bound to her, and galadriel being the one who makes sauron actually go back to his maiar purpose that valar ordained - the one who provides servitude and healing, all of this would make galadriel the perfect candidate to bring back sauron and make the valar consider his repentance.

as for sauron, by then, he would have enough time to get humbled and face what he knows subconsciously - he was meant to serve the light of his leader, not some silly ass rings. and by then, as we said, galadriel would have became even more perfect of a leader, maybe closer to how sauron saw her - a queen for all, a perfect antidote to morgoth. (and having outgrown her pride, galadriel would be able to admit her love and be by sauron's side as well.)

sauron says that after morgoth was defeated, he could feel the light of the one (eru) again and he knew if he ever was to be forgiven, he needed to heal everything he had helped ruin. he comes to see that light in galadriel. by helping her, he gets to receive "forgiveness" from the one he helped ruin ("i'm sorry for your brother, for everything" -> "whatever you did, be free of it"). he tells her that he never believed he could be free of it (morgoth's darkness) until fighting by her side (following her lead, serving her, healing her) and he wishes to bind that feeling (of being bound to galadriel's light) to his very being. and his subconscious screams at him that nothing he does will ever give him what he wants unless it's galadriel by his side, unless it's her light he worships ("your beauty still overshadows everything i could possibly write" ->"worship the light of its queen").

his repentance is tightly intertwined with his bond with galadriel and him coveting her light. he believes that he can be free of his bond to morgoth's darkness if he binds himself to galadriel's light instead. it's just that he can only truly repent if being bound to her light happens on *her* terms. in that case, they can be the force of the good together, pulling each other back from the darkness.

(it is interesting how in sauron's vision, his crown disappears once it's aligned with the sun, as if galadriel's light destroys it. girlboss taming her malewife but make it epic.)

whatever it is, i need one of u haladriels to adapt this theory on screen one day in the future.

[echo-bleu]

The Sculptor in her Workshop, Unknown, Late Third Age, Tirion.

and

The Return of the Lost Son, Unknown, Early Fourth Age, Tirion.

This is something of a companion piece to this Nerdanel character study (on AO3). In it, she sculpts her husband and sons as she feels them die across the sea, and she waits long ages for Maglor until he comes home.

(Makalaurë, standing still in the empty space that long awaited him, makes a better marble than live body.)

I think this is the most detailed piece I've ever done. I genuinely started it as "oh, I have a very vivid mind picture of this scene, I could do a little sketch!" and here I am about two weeks and 19 hours of painting later. I'm really proud of it, though.

Please reblog if you like it!

IDs (also in alt), details and more rambling under the cut.

[ID: Two digital paintings of the same room, a sculptor's workshop. In the first, Nerdanel, a light-skinned elf woman with long curly red hair, is working on an abstract sculpture in marble. Behind her are six marble life-sized statues: Fëanor, brandishing a gem, Maedhros, with one hand missing, arms partly crossed, and after a gap, Celegorm, kneeling down to hold Huan, Caranthir, reading a book, Curufin, forging a dagger on an anvil, his arm raised to hammer it, and Ambarussa, holding each other. On the foreground right is a large stab of marble waiting to be sculpted. The second painting has the same background with the workshop and statues, with a more reddish tint as if it's sunset. The abstract sculpture has now replaced the slab of stone and in the middle, Nerdanel is kneeling in front of Maglor, as light-skinned elf with very long dark hair, holding his hand, while she has her other hand on her mouth. She is crying. Maglor is standing in the gap between the statues of Maedhros and Celegorm. The other pictures are details of the first two.]

The statues in order: Fëanor, Maedhros, (Maglor), Celegorm&Huan, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod and Amras. Feel free to zoom in, they are each pretty detailed.

This is the first time I've drawn any of the younger sons. I did Nerdanel and Fëanor, Maedhros, Maglor and Celegorm before, each in slightly different AUs, but desiging Caranthir, Curufin and Ambarussa was fun!

Maedhros is missing his hand and has scars, because while Nerdanel never saw it, Finrod came to tell her what he looked like after Angband. She first sculpted him with his hand, though, so I imagine taking a hammer to it must have been... a specific sort of pain.

Curufin is a mix of Fëanor and Celebrimbor, they all look like each other, but I headcanon that Fëanor was more thin and wiry (though still strong), while Curufin was a bit buffer, as he focused more on large works (weapons and infrastructure) than jewellery, and Celebrimbor who was a teen/young adult in the war put up more fat once in Ost-en-Edhil, after many years of privation.

I can never settle on Caranthir's craft/occupation, but it's something bookish. As for Ambarussa, I think Nerdanel just wanted to remember them as happy youths, rather than attach them to any activity.

[zealouswerewolfcollector]

But speaking of Tolkien's discarded ideas, the one where Celegorm and Curufin are friends with Finarfin's (then Finrod's) sons and smuggle them on the swan ships is wild.

Fëanor and his folk seized all the ships and sailed east across the sea, and they took none of the other companies save Orodreth, Angrod, and Egnor (Aegnor), whom Celegorm and Curufin loved.

First of all, I love how it sounds - whom Celegorm and Curufin loved - very touching and humanizing.

Imagine being Fingon, though, the same Fingon who's close in friendship with Angrod and Aegnor and Maedhros (or used to be at least). Imagine waking up and realizing that your closest friends have abandoned you without a word. Imagine realizing or finding out that Maedhros's asshole brothers loved their friends enough to take them with them, but neither Maedhros nor Angrod and Aegnor bothered with you.

[daenerystargaryensgirlfriend]

Ok but literally imagine being Fëanor: you're an elf and elfs are immortal, they can only die if they're killed or if they let themselves die.

Imagine being the first ever orphan in the world, son to the first ever elf that let herself die and the first ever elf that was killed... must be rough.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

The five kingdoms of the sons of Fëanor: part 2

Maglor's Gap

Himring and the March of Maedhros

Warning. This post contains mentions of weapons use | animal death | orc death | use of animal parts | use of alcohol

🌟 Much like Himring and the March of Maedhros, Maglor’s Gap is dotted with stone fortresses made of rough stone.

🌟 However, in stark contrast to the more no-frills approach in Himring and the March, there is some semblance of elegance to be found in the keeps dotting the Gap due to Maglor’s own influence. Besides the usual pelts and furs and bone, furniture is more elaborately decorated, and the first weavings and tapestries were made with whatever could be found and easily assembled. Once order settles in, the elves of the Gap craft their own furnishings using feathers and animal teeth and tails from small animals such as ermine and sable.

🌟 Again, much like Himring and the March, garments worn by those living in the Gap consist of fur and leather. Beads, bones, feathers, and, in this instance, ermine tails, are used to decorate clothes. The pelts of smaller animals, such as pallas cats and foxes, are used to make mittens, hoods, and fur caps. Once a way is found to extract natural dyes from leaves and berries, color is used without restraint. The most commonly used decorative motifs in embroidery are horses, animals, birds, and flowers found in the Gap, sometimes even family mottoes. Any jewels that were brought over during the crossing are fiercely guarded and lent only for special occasions. On all other occasions, flowers, ferns, berries, and thin strips of ribbon are used for beautification.

🌟 Smithies are far more common due to a greater abundance of fuel for burning. Nevertheless, elves still make good use of anything and everything they can take off of dead orcs after skirmishes. Very little is allowed to go to waste by those living in the Gap, especially weapons and armor.

🌟 Military service comes in the form of several years of cavalry duty. As it is quite exposed, the Gap has to be patrolled all day and night, and on horseback, for both speed and convenience. The horses bred here are quite strong and heavy, capable of carrying heavily armored elves into battle, and are trained to withstand the noise and chaos of battle.

🌟 Elven males take up duties on the field. Elven women stay closer to home and see to the defenses of the keeps they live in. Many of the Elven women take up the bow and arrow for weapons.

🌟 Besides the standard sword and shield, bow and arrow and spear, a lance-like weapon makes its first appearance among the mounted warriors patrolling the Gap.

🌟 The meat of wild game, wild berries, root vegetables, and mare’s milk make up many, if not all, meals. Meat is often cured and preserved to last longer. Dried meat is reserved for those having to go on patrol. Horseflesh is also consumed. Alcoholic beverages made out of fermented mare’s milk are drunk in the absence of wine.

🌟 There is very little in the way of public feasts and frolics, as the Gap is a frequent target for Orc raids. If there are celebrations, they are quite simple and held only in a private capacity by individual families. Maglor, however, will host the captains that serve him at least every two to three weeks to develop rapport, and to learn more of the comings and goings in his domain.

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

Do you think Dior will ever forgive the Feanorians

yeahhh no imo he's one of the least likely people in arda to ever forgive the feanorians. as far as named characters go, the only ones who match and possibly surpass him in that regard would be thingol, melian, beren, luthien, nimloth, elured and elurin, elwing, elrond, and elros. it would be one thing if the feanorians only did him wrong, but that isn't the case: they slaughtered his kin; tried to kill his father; and kidnapped and tried to assault and kill his mother; and they did all this before he was even born and show no remorse or misgivings about any of it. after that they destroyed his recovering kingdom in an ambush; killed his wife and child sons; displaced his people; displaced and orphaned his toddler daughter; destroyed his daughter's life a second time when she was an adult and drove her to suicide; and destroyed his grandsons' home, all but orphaned them, and then kidnapped them. like lmao. this is an almost comical level of wrong that they've committed against his family. even if he only knew about their actions against the people he cares about up to attacking doriath -- which would probably be the extent of his knowledge if he follows the fate of men -- i don't think he would forgive them. if he follows the fate of elves, is re-embodied in aman, and learns about all that additional stuff with his wife, children, and grandchildren? it's over lol. if any member of his family wants to forgive them he wouldn't begrudge it, but he himself has no interest in forgiving

[lovefairymina]

Y/N, wearing an elegant dress for a party: Feanor, can you help me with my zipper?

Feanor, moving to do the zipper: Alright, sure.

Y/N: ... Put the zipper UP Feanor!

His hot breath ghosted your earlobe as he forward, snaking his large palms around your waist. “We have enough time to pull the zipper down and sneak out this dress before the dinner begins, mírë.”

[theneverfadinglands]

Heraldic devices; Fëanorions

Maedhros: It was quite a challenge to design Maedhros' device. He is the heir and therefore it must show, but it also have to contain his personality. Which I always interpreted as more elegant and simple, neat. I wanted to incorporate the motif of rose. Since I connect Maedhros (and Nerdanel) to roses. I wanted to incorporate both the star of Fëanor and rose of Nerdanel.

I. the first picture shows the device of Maitimo as he used in Valinor

II. Maedhros after Fëanor's death, high king of the Noldor in Beleriand. Used briefly of course. I believe it was designed by Maglor and he used it during Maedhros captivity. Maglor was not thrilled to be a king and so I can imagine he would use Maedhros' a lot. It has 16 points, just as Finwë's heraldic device.

III. Maedhros after his abdication, lord of Himring.. a lot of point for a lord, right? Fingolfin had 8 as well.

I. Makalaurë, I remember holly leaves were mentioned in Return to Aman (written by @cycas ). Since then they stuck in my head as Maglor's heraldic device. Of course they are golden. Picking themes for Maglor was not hard at all. The red circles are supposed to signify the berries of holly.

II. Maglor after Maedhros' capture. I am not sure if he was crowned the high king of the Noldor or not. He is not listed anywhere as one, it seems to me he managed to escape the kingship. After Maedhros' rescue, the golden circle was reduced in size as to not touch the sides. Maglor used this device in Beleriand and never used the Valinorean one again.

Celegorm, I was a little unsure what to choose, but it have not took me a long time to pick silver pine cone. I could not find any suitable animal-related theme, everything looked wuite ridiculous. I suppose even this look a little ridiculous. I was also unsure if I should go all the way and use the green or pick someting more inline with his siblings. However, Celegorm is odd one in the group really. He is Fëanor's third son and still deserve distinct design, not to be confused with any other. 4 points obviously, his device follows the conventional rules.

Caranthir, oh Caranthir, I always have a problem with him. Caranthir is the one I do not know much about. I do not have headcanons about him, I just do not know. I could not pick anything personal for him and there are not informations about him. We know Celegorm, Amrod and Amras were hunters, Maedhros is the heir, Maglor is golden and musician, who is Caranthir? He is known for his temper, the dark Finwë.

I chose dark moody colours and many many stars. Instead of one central star he has 7 of them. His device is wuite formal. Of course the reason is that I did not know what to do with him. Yet what is the in-story reason? Maybe he used to have different device in Valinor, but began to use this one in Beleriand. He must have some very good reason to slap so many stars in. Maybe because he managed the trade, he used this neutral, formal and very "Fëanor's son" screaming device?

I think that his Valinorean device might have some moths. Moths are suitable dark and moody.

Curufin, it was not hard to design. I wanted his device to be similar to Fëanor's, yet it shall not outshine Maedhros. Technically the device break rules as there are 8 sides touching, but Curufin was never a king. I think the yellow can be ignored as a "point." After all the same motif is featured in Maedhros'. I wanted to reapeat the Maedhros theme, because although he is the oldest, Curufin is most similar to his father.

For Curufin I had chosen gems as symbols. I think diamnods are very fitting for him. I had it on my mind the entire time from the beginning. The question was only where I am going to place them. I think the inspiration by Fëanor is also clear. I am not sure how Curufin felt about it later... he is always Atarinkë.

I have to do Celebrimbor too, but I think he had more than one device.

Amrod and Amras, I went a little wild with them. They are the youngest and therefore can have some fun. As such I chose more creative devices. Red maple for Amrod (because aesthetic, not really for the meaning) and oak for Amras. Oak is in many cultures regarded as the kingly tree. I think the devices are both similar enough and different enough to denote their relationship as twins while maintaining separate identities. Honestly Amros' device and Maglor's kingly Beleriand device are my favorites.

I would like to do Fingolfinwean and Finarfinwean devices as well, but I am not sure I'll have enough creativity in me.

Fingon & Turgon below!

[doodle-pops]

Married Life With Feanor, Fingolfin and Finarfin Would Include…

Request: Hi, can I request some group fluffy headcanons for Feanor, Fingolfin and Finarfin with asexual!reader? Like about their domestic life. I like to imagine they would give reader some extra care and make them feel valid and loved, and when someone tries to stick their nose into their relationship, they just be like: "Yeah, me and my partner don't have bodily union, but we're bonded by stars, so get lost". Thanks in advance (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

A/N: Always a pleasure to answer your requests. Enjoy!

Synopsis: What your married life with them as an asexual person would entail.

Masterlist | Navigation

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Fëanor

➽ Fëanor, being Fëanor, does not give a damn about what others think of your relationship. In fact, he thrives on the scandal it causes amongst the more traditional elves.

➽ If anyone so much as dares to comment on the lack of physical intimacy between you two, he scoffs, waves a dismissive hand, and says something like, “What, you thought I, Curufinwë Fëanáro, needed to do what every other lovesick fool does? I am bonded beyond flesh. And if you don’t understand that, I won’t waste my breath explaining it to you.”

➽ He is extremely protective of your comfort. If someone is prying or making you feel invalid, he will eviscerate them with words alone. “Your ignorance wounds me,” he’d say in a tone so dry that it leaves the offender squirming. “And here I thought the Eldar were supposed to be enlightened.”

➽ You are the only one allowed to touch his hair without protest. The sight of you braiding it is enough to make his sons do double takes because their father, the very Fëanor, sits still and lets you work without a single complaint. If you ever want yours braided in return, he takes to the task with precision—his fingers work like a master jeweller, and he will not accept anything less than perfection.

➽ If you’re feeling insecure about your identity, he brings you into his forge and makes you something to remind you of your worth. A Silmaril of your own, set with a stone that captures the first light of Telperion and Laurelin. “No one questions the worth of the Silmarils,” he murmurs as he fastens it around your neck. “And you are far rarer, far more precious. So do not let lesser minds make you doubt.”

➽ When the two of you sit together, he always ends up with an arm slung around your shoulders or your fingers intertwined with his. It’s never possessive—just a quiet reminder that you belong to each other. He likes to rest his forehead against yours sometimes, eyes closed, breathing in your presence. “This,” he says softly, “is enough.”

➽ Maedhros and Maglor have learned not to comment on your relationship because every time they do, Fëanor launches into a dramatic speech about how the two of you share a connection beyond mere physicality, an eternal bond forged in the core of Arda itself, something that transcends mere bodily desires. Eventually, his sons stop bringing it up because he won’t shut up.

➽ If he catches anyone looking down on you for your sexuality, he leans in and murmurs in a deceptively friendly tone, “If you insult my beloved, you insult me. And you would not dare to insult me, would you?” Cue the offending party quickly finding somewhere else to be.

➽ He has a terrible habit of stealing your clothes when they’re left unattended. You’ll come into your shared space to find him wearing your outer robe like a lordly cloak, completely unbothered by the fact that it’s clearly not his. “It smells like you,” he says with a shrug. “And I happen to like that.”

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Fingolfin

➽ Unwavering in his devotion, and when he loves, he loves with his whole being. He understands you, accepts you, and never lets you feel less than cherished. Whenever someone questions your relationship, he just raises an eyebrow and says in his calm, unshakable voice, “What I have with my beloved is eternal. It does not need to be explained.”

➽ He is an incredibly attentive partner. He notices when you’re overwhelmed, when you need space, when you need reassurance. If you ever doubt your worth, he takes your hands in his and presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles. “You are enough,” he tells you. “Always.”

➽ If someone tries to insist that your love is somehow ‘incomplete’ without physical intimacy, Fingolfin gives them a look so cold that they immediately regret opening their mouth. “And who,” he asks, voice laced with steel, “gave you the authority to define love?”

➽ He enjoys quiet domestic moments. Sitting beside you as he polishes his armour, reading together beneath the trees, walking hand in hand through the city—these are the things he treasures. Sometimes, he just gazes at you with a small, private smile, as if he still cannot quite believe you chose him.

➽ His siblings have very different reactions to your relationship. Fëanor, predictably, scoffs at the idea of his half-brother finding happiness but secretly respects how fiercely Fingolfin defends your bond. Finarfin, ever the peacekeeper, is simply delighted to see you both happy. “True love is rare,” he tells you one day with a warm smile. “Never let anyone tell you it must look a certain way.”

➽ Whenever you sit in court beside him, he unconsciously seeks you out, his hand resting lightly on yours, a subtle anchor in the storm of politics. Even in the most heated debates, his touch remains grounding and comforting.

➽ When he prepares for battle, he always ensures you have something of his—perhaps a finely wrought bracelet, a token of his love. “I will return to you,” he vows, fingers brushing against yours. “And should I fall, know that I have loved you beyond all reckoning.”

➽ He is a surprisingly good cook, but only for you. If one of his soldiers asks for a meal, they get standard fare. If you ask? He’s suddenly making a feast fit for a king. “Favouritism?” he echoes, feigning innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Finarfin

➽ He is utterly devoted to making sure you always feel loved and validated. He is patient, understanding, and the first to shut down any nonsense about what a relationship should look like. “Love is not measured by the expectations of others,” he says simply. “It is measured by what we build together.”

➽ He is incredibly gentle with you. If you ever feel overwhelmed, he simply pulls you into his arms and lets you lean against him, no words needed. His presence alone is a comfort, warm and steadfast.

➽ He enjoys creating things for you—whether it’s intricate jewellery, embroidered garments, or even composing a song that captures the depths of your bond. “It is not the work of a great minstrel,” he says with a soft smile, “but it is yours, and that is enough.”

➽ Whenever someone pries into your relationship, he doesn’t get angry. He just tilts his head, gives them a polite but firm look, and says, “I fail to see how this is your concern.” Somehow, that is more effective than any argument.

➽ If you ever feel insecure about your identity, he reassures you with quiet conviction. “You are as the Valar made you,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “And who am I to question their wisdom?”

➽ He enjoys domestic routines with you—sharing meals, walking through the gardens, reading together in companionable silence. These small moments mean everything to him.

➽ His children adore you. Even if they don’t always understand your perspective at first, they respect you deeply. Galadriel and Finrod in particular are protective of you, and anyone who dares to mock your relationship will find themselves on the receiving end of Galadriel’s sharp tongue.

➽ When he speaks about you, there is always warmth in his voice, a quiet reverence. “My love,” he says one evening as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “the world may not always understand us, but I need only your understanding. That is all that matters.

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