#tolkein oc

[chase-ydraws]

hey remember that guy Harlan i keep talking about? well, the first page of his character sheet is finally here <3

I would love to receive asks about him!!!!

closeups under the cut!

[essenceofarda]

Little Noldo Princess ✨

aka i've finally succumbed to drawing one of my most self indulgent oc's lol 😅, the youngest child and only daughter of Feanor and Nerdanel. Born many years after Amros and Amrod, she was a surprise baby (if elves can even have surprise pregnancies idk) and is considerably younger than her 7 older brothers. She is also not coincidentally the absolute apple of they and her father's eye. She has them all completely wrapped around her little finger (nerdanel being the only one capable of reigning her in lol, which results in Nerd having to be the disciplinary parent here haha)

anyway--i have lots of arts/ideas to draw for her and especially her interacting with her brothers/family and big cousins :)

[sketchs-sketches]

[ylieke]

A small Thranduil commission for one of my subscribers...

[valtsv]

probably the funniest thing i ever did as a kid was try to convince anyone who'd listen to me infodump about my favorite media that my ocs were actual canon characters in the story and then if they expressed genuine interest in checking it out i'd panic and be like no you Can't and just never speak to them again

[teawithmadalice]

THE DRAGONS DAUGHTER

Prologue • Thranduil x daughter!OC

Summary: Thranduil lost his beloved daughter 500 years ago, on his search for the white gems of Lasgalen- his wife's final gift to him, he finds a young elf who reminds him of his lost daughter.

WORD COUNT: 2k

1 (YOU ARE HERE) • 2

The town square was filled with a hushed anticipation. The people, their faces marked by years of hardship and torment from the years of being terrorized by the fire breathing beast known by the name of Smaug, gathered together as the mayor, an elderly man with a deep, gravelly voice, stood before them.

"Good people of lake town, I stand before you today to speak of a matter both heavy and upsetting- one that has weighed on us all for what feels like generations although we know that is not so. Each season, as the winds begin to stir and change and the first frost that touches the earth melts away into spring dew drops, we face a choice, a duty. A sacrifice. This has taken the form of your hard earned gold, herds of sheep and piles of luxuries are sacrificed in an attempt to appease the beast"

He paused- his gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd, young and old all gathered.

"For almost 2 seasons now, we have lived under the shadow of the mountain. Above us, in the crags and cliffs, the great dragon Smaug watches over this land. I and the council have decided. One innocent soul, taken from among us, chosen by fate and tradition, to appease the dragon’s hunger."

"Regretfully, one newborn babe will be randomly selected by our council, and tonight, will be given as tribute to Smaug"

His voice grew softer now, tinged with sorrow- though it remained firm in its conviction.

"Now, I know that there are some among you who question this. Who feel in their hearts that such a practice is cruel, that the price is too steep. I see your faces, and I hear your whispers. I, too, have felt the weight of this duty, the pang of grief in offering a life so young. But we cannot allow this torment to continue plaguing our lovely town any longer."

"We must remember the fate of the dwarven kingdom of erebor and our sister-city of dale, those people died because they would not submit to the mighty dragon Smaug, we survived because we are lucky enough to have built our quaint town on water, and that the flame of Smaug cannot rage on for long before being distinguished into smoke and steam.

To the great people of Laketown, for our survival, we must do this."

•••••

It is written in the history books that the queen of the elven kingdom of mirkwood, wife of king thranduil and mother to the young elfling prince legolas died during the war on Angmar at the hands of orc barbarians.

The kingdom was said to have mourned the loss of a kind and benevolent queen that day, the realm fell silent, even the elves in neighbouring kingdoms mourned the beloved queen and sent commiserations to the widowed king and young elfling prince.

But what the history books leave out is that the queen of mirkwood, Calathiel, did not die alone. She was on the road to a neighbouring kingdom to seek refuge, with a newly born babe, a princess elfling who had fallen ill and needed treatment that the war-torn mirkwood could not provide.

The knowledge of the princess was unknown to those outside the royal family and those close to them, it was a great risk- a pregnant queen is a prime target for enemy attacks.

Calathiel and the small assortment of guards, (around four or five elves) that travelled with her were intercepted and slain only one day away from their destination- their bodies were left to the elements, ivy growing over the corpses in intricate patterns- a grotesque beauty.

it was three months before a group of mirkwood rangers recovered the bodies.

6 bodies.

Five corpses clothed in armour with weapons in hand and one body adorned in elven silk and silver jewelry, a woven crown laying on top of the silver locks of hair.

No young elfling babe was found among the fallen

•••••

"mama!" a young boy, with a mop of chocolate brown curls came crashing into his home in lake town.

"Aldren Forrinson where on earth have you been boy!" the screech of a woman with the same flurry of brown curls yelled back, putting her knitting needles down onto the stool beside her.

The small blanket was almost complete, a gift for her unborn babe she had carried in her womb for almost nine months, it would only be a few days until her waters broke and the bundle of joy would come wailing and kicking into the world.

"mama I found something! I was out walking in the woods- yes, I know you told me not to go too far from town- BUT! look..." the boy approached his mother, a bundle of soft blankets and wrappings of silk lay in his arms.

A soft gasp left the woman's lips as she peered down, a small pale face peered back with piercing blue eyes-

"give it here boy."

her nimble hands peered back at the many layers of cloth, short silver locks of hair had begun to sprout from the babes head, small pointed ears and a button nose- an elfling.

The elfling shivered, sweat beaded down her forehead, the warning signs of a fever- "listen to me here boy, go to master vere and tell him that the babe needs to be monitored, I can't keep an eye with my bump as big as it is now, " the woman leaned over to the pipe of finished knitted toys, clothes and blankets and took a soft woolen baby hat and placed it a top the babes head, covering the silver locks and pointed ears.

"there. Now off you go boy - shoo"

The sun was setting by the time the small boy got to the village doctor, bursting through the door and laying the babe on top of a table

"Master! babe- sick- fever" aldren panted, out of breath.

The old man stood from his chair, grey haired and wrinkled "oh, I was unaware your mother had given birth- where is she-?" the man turned, expecting to see the boy, but was met with mud trodden footprints made in haste. A sigh left his lips, turning to the babe and picking up the now sleeping infant.

WINTER, TA 2401, CLINIC LOG.

PATIENT: INFANT GIRL 'FORRISON'

DESCRIPTION: pale faced, smaller than the average babe, small scattered birthmark on the left shoulder , newly born.

The patient seems to be infected with a sweating sickness, from my evaluation there is not much that can be done, I have administered a sedative so the babe is not in pain- it is up to the patient to fight the sickness, let us pray she is strong

••••••••

A soft knock resounded on the Forrinson families front door.

The woman opened the door slightly, peeking through the crack- on the other side was an extremely recognisable face.

"Mayor," she spoke, opening the door fully "what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mrs Forrinson, I am not sure if you've heard the announcement I made yesterday in the town centre."

A laugh left her lips at the thought "Of course I've heard, word travels fast and this is a small town after all sire! it's the most interesting thing that's happened here in a long while- it's awful that it has come to this, but I understand why you've decided to take this approach- I hope it works and that whomever the poor child is, that the sacrifice is worthwhile."

"I'm glad you think that Mrs Forrinson. Unfortunately, this is why I'm here talking to you today." his voice was soft, almost remorseful. An unsettling feeling wormed it's way into the pit of the woman's stomach.

"I ventured down to Master Veres clinic to look at the patients logs of all infants born in the last sixth months, in total there were 22"

A deep sigh left the man's lips. "I regret to inform you that your newborn girl has been chosen to do the honourable duty as a forfeit to Smaug- I understand how heartbreaking this must be but i-"

Her pulse was fast. Eyes darting around. She had not yet given birth, but her child was chosen to be sacrificed. Did he think the young elfling was hers? what should she do? her thoughts ran a mile a minute- the elfling was abandoned, has no family that would mourn her- surely she should be the one to be sacrificed, right?

"Mrs Forrinson... Hello Mrs Forrinson are you listening?" the deep voice of the older man snapped the woman out of her thoughts.

"Yes- i- apologies, this is a lot to take in..."

"I understand, your child is still at the clinic, yes? maybe you and your family should go and spend some time with her"

"yes... I-I think we will. Thank you sire."

•••••••

The trek to the caves mouth was difficult, the sharp rocks of the winding pathways cut into the bottom of the townsfolk feet through the soles of their boots- the wind was howling, bitter and cruel, whistling mockingly at them.

Beneath the large cocoon of blankets bundled in Mrs Forrinson's arms, the young elfling was slumbering, blissfully unaware of how each step taken was one step closer to a tragic fate of fire and ash.

The mountain began to shake, rumbling ferociously. "Smaug grows near, be careful!" one of the elders spoke, before he could continue a deep bellowing voice echoed from the opening of the cave

"WHAT HAVE YOU INSOLENT MORTALS BROUGHT ME NOW... A PITIFUL SOME OF GOLD PERHAPS? MAYBE SOME SHEEP TO SATIATE MY APPETITE?"

The blackening void of the cave was broken by two bright orange glowing eyes, emitting a deep growl as they slowly approached closer and closer to the small entourage of townsfolk.

"...NO... IT CANNOT BE TREASURE OR FOOD, I CANNOT SMELL THE GOLD ORE OR THE THUMPING HEARTS OF OBLIVIOUS SHEEP~ YOU'VE BOUGHT ME... SOMETHING... NEW."

"Smaug. We know you are a creature of wrath, a force of nature, and we know the land has trembled beneath your fury. The sky grows dark when you take to the air, and no beast or man dares to challenge your flame. But we are not your enemies—we seek only to survive, to live in peace with the land you claim as your own.

In our desperation, we have come to offer the one thing we hold most precious, the only way we know to ask for your mercy: a child of our own blood, a newborn babe born only a few moons ago. "

He motions to Mrs Forrinson, who cradles a newborn in her arms, unaware of the fact that the babe is not her own, but an abandoned elfling left on the edge of a nearby forest

"We offer this child, her life, in the hope that her innocence might sway your heart. Her cries are pure, her laughter untainted. She is the future of our village- the last hope we have to please you and, in turn, save our people from the shadow of death you cast upon us.

We do not ask for your forgiveness, only that you take this gift and spare us the destruction we fear. We understand the value of a life-of any life-and it is with the deepest sorrow that we present this offering, knowing full well the price it demands.

May you find in this small child something worthy of your grace.

We beg of you... let it be enough."

The older man motions to Mrs Forrinson, encouraging her to step forward and place the bundle of blankets and knitted wear at the mouth of the cave- this child was not her own, but a strong feeling of sorrow and grief ran throughout her body, solemn tears silently dripping down her face.

"I am so sorry little one." she whispered, pressing a soft kiss onto the young elves forehead, patting her hat covered head- one she kept on to conceal the pointed elven ears and the babes true nature.

"YOU MORTALS NEVER CEASE TO AMAZE ME. LEAVE. YOUR OFFERING IS ACCEPTED."

★★★★★

OMG the prologue is done! I'm scared I rushed the ending but oh well- not proofread!

like this? join my TAGLIST to be reminded of new episodes, blurbs and ficlets in the series <3

next chapter

[nataliabdraws]

More early second age sketches of Narien

Some lore about her in this age below!

After the War of Wrath, Narien relocates under Galadriel's wing to Lindon, which would be developed as a sanctuary under the now High King Gil-galad. In Lindon, Narien, her father, and her people were respected guests, though they could not escape the wary eyes of most onlookers. Most kept their distance, but the High King did not. For a time, he courted Narien, perhaps in hopes of finally uniting their people and savoring the time of peace they were afforded.

This courtship would not come to fruition after allegations of dark sorcery came to light against Narien.

Narien took to many pursuits that her father would find unbefitting for a lady at court, but Narien would persist, drawn to a life beyond the boundaries he set for her. She explored the edges of Lindon’s forests, learned the languages of neighboring Elves, and trained herself in the art of strategy, much to her father’s dismay. Her bond with Galadriel deepened with each lesson and journey, growing into a sisterly companionship marked by mutual respect and tempered by gentle rivalry.

Yet, as Narien’s knowledge of darker arts grew, whispers circulated through Lindon, igniting fear and suspicion among the Elves. Her power over mind and earth—a gift once used to protect her kin—was now seen as a link to Morgoth’s corruption. In a series of tense councils, the Elves debated the fate of the Nárenya, their doubts fueled by lingering scars from the First Age.

Ultimately, the council decreed exile, targeting Narien and any who stood by her. The decision divided Lindon, yet Narien’s people remained steadfast, seeing in her strength and conviction a path to survival beyond the sanctuaries of their distant kin.

With her people rallying to her side, Narien and her family departed from Lindon, her heart hardened, determined to wield any power necessary to keep her people safe—even as whispers of a dark fate began to follow her steps.

[zepskies]

Any Lord of the Rings (LOTR)/Hobbit Fans?

Hey there! Happy almost Friday. 🥳

I just rewatched Lord of the Rings -- extended edition of course -- and it's still one of my favorite series ever. It also got my muse flowing in a different direction. 😂 Trust me, I still have plenty of Jackles and SPN stuff coming your way, now through February!

Now, I polled my lovely Patrons on this, and quite a few of them are interested in reading LOTR/Hobbit fanfiction from me in the future. But I'd also like to know what all of you think!

If not, it's TOTALLY fine. 💜 But if yes...

If not, I may just make a separate blog for posting LOTR/Hobbit fanfiction when the mood strikes me... 🤔 (After posting on my Patreon first. 💖)

[artbysconnor]

Sketchbook time! I made a Tolkeinsona while doing a LOTR extended edition marathon with my dad, and we collectively decided I would probably be an elf (though really, probably half-elf, since my mom has big elf vibes and my dad is definitely a human).

They're an elf who is a star-charting prophecy reader and also plays the harp and weaves.

[sailor-noni]

reunion

(her name is sírwen :>)

[fogsy-ink]

Been on that eld grind and drew me n my friends characters

@georgerangerjohnson @ivecaughtthewind

Our characters :p

[rosie-love98]

The Women Of Oropher's House:

Winduirost:

Wife of Oropher and mother of Thranduil.

Name means “Windy Rain” in Sindarin. She was called this due to her gray eyes.

Daughter of Tauraear (“Vast Ocean”) and Erinmidh (“Morning-Dew”).

Was sister to an elder brother named “Duinlung” (“Riverbend”) and a younger sister called “Loebnen” (“Fresh-Water). Along with their parents, both Duinlung and Loebnen would be killed during an Orc attack in the First Age 585. Winduirost was the sole survivor when Oropher had managed to rescue her.

Married Oropher in the First Age 588 and made the move to Mirkwood with him.

Had the unique trait of having golden-blonde hair. This may be the result of a Vanyar or Noldor ancestor.

Winduirost didn’t think highly of the Silvans of Mirkwood. This was why she was against Thranduil marrying her handmaiden, Lisselote.

When Oropher gave Thranduil and Lisselote his blessing to their engagement, a petty Winduirost gave Lisselote dozens of hard tasks to prove her worth.

When Oropher perished during the War Of The Last Alliance, Winduirost would soften her harsh judgment thanks to Lisslote’s kindness towards the grieving queen.

Sailed to the Undying Lands in the Third Age 87, shortly after the birth of her grandson, Legolas.

Despite (somewhat) softening her cold disposition, it still didn’t stop Winduirost’s initial objection to Legolas’s romance with the Wingildi, Nenselde. Though, in Winduirost’s defense, she had more legit reasons.

Lisselote:

Wife of Thranduil and mother of Legolas.

Name means “Honey-Blossom” due to having honey-blonde hair.

Daughter of Malinurin (“Yellow-Sun”) and Tuilevire (“Spring Rose”).

Had a younger sister named “Incadaisime” (“Small Daisy”).

Was a hand-maiden to Queen Winduirost when Lisselote became acquainted with Thranduil.

Married Thranduil in the Second Age 3500. They were engaged back in 3429 but they were forced to halt the wedding due to the War Of The Last Alliance breaking out.

Was given the White Gems Of Lasgalen as a wedding gift from Winduirost on the late Oropher’s behalf.

During an Orc attack on Mirkwood, Lisselote was kidnapped by the enemy and taken to Angmar where she’d be tortured to death. 

Her untimely demise was sacrificial as the Orcs were trying to find and kill the then-infant Legolas. Little did they know Lisselote had given Legolas to her maid-servants who were already protecting the other Mirkwood Elflings (including little Tauriel).

This Orc siege had also cost the lives of Tuileveire and Incadaisime. As for Malinurin, he had already died during the War Of The Last Alliance.

Nenselde:

Wife of Legolas and mother of Marillalote.

Is the very last of all the Wingildi (“Foam-Maidens”) to have been created. 

Name means “Sea-Child” in Sindarin.

Unlike the Wingildis, she was made with the tear of Nienna. As a result, she was made and grew as an Elf child rather than a grown adult like her sisters. Yet, the other side-effect was that Nenselde was prone to grief and depression.

When Nenselde was a small, Elf child, she was given to Osse and Uinen to raise along with Wingildis.

By the time she turned 200-years-old, the now adult Nenselde would be so overwhelmed with her depression that she left her family for seclusion within the Bay Of Belfalas.

As much as she loved her family, Nenselde forbade herself from returning to them. The likes of Gandalf and Cirdan even tried to talk with her but whenever that arrived at Belfalas, a nervous Nenselde would hide away from them.

For centuries, Nenselde would be all alone at the bay until the Fourth Age arrived. From the Fourth Age 190-220, she would have mysterious visions of Prince Legolas Of Mirkwood. From all of these shared visions, the two would grow romantically close.

Yet, as Nenselde longed to be with Legolas and his friends in the Undying Lands, she was still torn with the Bay Of Belfalas. 

To make matters worse, their shared dreams would be corrupted by an evil force, the Dark Tree Cult that also made both Legolas and Nenselde undergo a deadly coma.

Still, by the Fourth Age 221, Nenselde would finally leave the Bay Of Belfalas and wed Legolas to the joy of Gimli Gloinul, Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Gandalf The White along with Thranduil and Winduirost.

Marillalote, Legolas and Nenselde’s daughter, would be born shortly after the wedding in the Fourth Age 225.

Marillalote:

Name means “Pearl-Blossom” in Quenya.

Was going to be called just "Marilla" but Legolas wanted to pay homage to his late mother.

Born in Tol Eressea, an island of the Undying Lands.

Thanks to having Gimli Gloinul as her godfather, she’s prone to having a Dwarf-like personality; adventurous, strong-willed, along with being able to forge and wield an ax. This is why she’s often called “Dwarf-Kin”.

Also, like a Dwarf, Marillalote is knowledgeable on mining and jewelry-making.

Godmother was Legolas’s childhood friend, Tauriel.

As a Wingildi on her mother’s side, Marillalote inherited the ability to sing wildly.

By the time Marillalote was 20 (seven in Elf years), Gimli, Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee would all pass on peacefully.

Would eventually marry Elenimir (“Star-Jewel"), grandson of Elboron (son of Faramir and Eowyn) and his wife, Alasse (daughter of Aragorn and Arwen) in the Fourth Age 500. 

Elenimir and Marillalote would later have two sons and two daughters.

[greenandsorrow]

That's just me deciding things in advance 🤫

But.

Let's say I'm planning a multi chapter fic that will follow the events of the Hobbit trilogy 👀

AND IM LOOKING FOR A TITLE, OKAY??

I won't be dropping any details.

It's a Thorin x fem!reader thing but with a twist. Maybe she'll be an OC.

This is also your chance to message me or leave a comment so that I can tag you in this particular fic (that isn't happening soon)

[teawithmadalice]

THE DRAGONS DAUGHTER

Thranduil x daughter!OC • CHAPTER 2

SUMMARY: Thranduil lost his beloved daughter 500 years ago, on his search for the white gems of Lasgalen- his wife's final gift to him, he finds a young elf who reminds him of his lost daughter.

OR Thorin confronts Thranduil, and he reminisces.

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

1 • 2 (YOU ARE HERE) • 3

The halls of the kingdom of mirkwood were large, tall and extravagant, with curving branches of trees and wooden walkways wrapped around stone, even the dwarf prisoners could not insult the domain.

King Thranduil sat poised a top his throne, elevated above the kneeling not-king dwarf, peering down and sneering cruelty, "Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand, a quest to reclaim a homeland... and slay a dragon."

The elf scoffed, standing from his carved wooden throne and descended the tall steps that lead up to him, approaching the kneeling dwarf. "I myself, suspect a more prosaic motive- attempted burglary or something of that ilk"

Thorin Oakenshield stood up, meeting the elven kings eye.

"You have found a way in, you seek what would bestow upon you the right to rule- The Kings Jewel. The arkenstone." Thranduil spoke, a reserved knowing smile flittering across his features.

"it is precious to you beyond measure, I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that i too desire, white gems... of pure starlight."

Thorin Oakenshield son of Thrain knew of the stones he was talking about, the white gems of Lasgalen, gems owned by the former queen of Mirkwood, and taken from her cold corpse by orcs and later found by wandering dwarfs, taken to their kingdom of erebor and stashed amongst the hoards of gold. It was soon after that, not even ten days later, that a fire breathing dragon of the name of Smaug wreaked havoc on the Dwarvish Kingdom. The gems of Lasgalen were lost amongst the horde stolen by a dragon.

"I offer you my help."

Thorins gaze hardened, "I am listening."

"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine"

The dwarf scoffed, "A favor for a favor."

Thorins Oakenshield remembered the day the dragon had come for Erebor, slain his kin, killed his brothers, sisters, the young and the old.

Thorin Oakenshield remembered looking up and seeing a vast elven army. An army that could have turned the tides. An army that could've saved his people and reclaimed his home.

Thorin remembers how he screamed at the king of Mirkwood, begging the elf for aid.

He remembers how the elven king turned around and refused to join the fight against the great dragon Smaug, and how in consequence the battle was lost.

"You have my word, from one king to another'

"I would not trust Thranduil, the Great King, to honour his word, should the end of all days be upon us!" Throin sneered, his posture growing with his anger as he seethed.

"YOU! WHO LACK ALL HONOUR?! I HAVE SEEN HOW YOU TREAT YOUR FRIENDS! We came to you once, starving. Homeless. Seeking your help. YOU TURNED YOUR BACK! YOU, TURNED AWAY FROM THE SUFFERING OF MY PEOPLE! THE INFERNO THAT DESRROYED US- IMRID AMARÂD URSUL" (to die a firey death)

Thranduil was blinded by grief, although the dwarfs did not know that, the day he marched towards the battle of dwarf and dragon. His actions are a haze, and he could not recall the events that happened the days after he heard his wife was dead and his young babe missing, he is told that he sent a letter to the Kingdom of Erebor, requesting for the return of his late queens necklace, the letter was answered with a short formal reply.

'To whom it may concern,

We understand you wish to reclaim the Lasgalen Gems, However due to Section F, Clause 5 of the Dwarvish code and regulations for Gold and Treasury affairs, which states: "Any belongings of any value found on a deceased person discovered by an inhabiting Erebor dwarf is rightfully property of the Dwarven King of Erebor, and cannot be reclaimed after being added to the Treasury horde." We cannot fulfill this request.

Regards, The sector of Gold and Treasury keeping for the great kingdom of Erebor.'

Thranduil is told that when he heard news of the great dragon Smaug spitting Dragonfire onto the Dwarven kingdom, he laughed.

No, his reaction could not be explained with the mere word 'laugh'. He was maniacal, his eyes were blown wide and he was erratic, he ordered a troop of 2000 elves strong to march for the lonely mountain the next dawn.

No elf knew if they were truly going to the battlefield to fight that day, their king had not explained the plan of action, but no elf had the courage to ask the grief striken king his reasoning, not even his closest advisors.

When Thranduil stood on the hill and looked down on the grotesque scene of fire and blood, he did not pity or grimace at the picture. Those insolent, greedy, cruel beings didn't deserve to live. Their deaths would be a mercy, and middle earth would be a better place with them gone... So Thranduil, Great King of Mirkwood, turned away.

Thranduil lowered himself to the dwarfs level, faces inches away from each other. "Do not talk to me of dragon fire, I know it's wrath and ruin." He spat, as his face contorted, skin shredding to reveal a large scar that covered the expanse of his left cheek- a scar left, undoubtedly by dragon fire

"I have faced the great serpents of the North. I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon, but he did not listen. You are just like him."

His face reverted to its previous appearance, porcelain skin shifting back into place, some sort of cosmetic magic to restore the elven kings perfect image. He slinked away from the dwarf captive, signalling his guards to detain him once more as he climbed the stairs to his throne once more

"Stay here if you will and rot - 100 years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I'm patient. I can wait..."

•••••••••

Aewneth knew from even a young age she shouldn't have survived.

Her origins were like a puzzle, a heap of jumbled up mismatching pieces that all had a place, but her fumbling hands couldn't seem to get them all too fit- and even if they seemed like, even for a second, that they were all falling into place, the picture they made was still too blurry to be seen.

But she was good at puzzles.

She was born prematurely, she assumed, her mother had abandoned her because she thought the girl was too weak to be among the strong wood elves of her kin. Miraculously, she survived a few seasons in the wilderness- maybe a pack of wolves or a lonely bear mistook her for a cub, or perhaps just took pity on her weak miserable circumstance and provided for her.

She was malnourished, and premature, still looking like a new born, the townsfolk of Laketown decided to sacrifice a babe to the dragon Smaug in order to gain favour, but did not want to send their own flesh and blood, so they sent her, an abandoned elfling orphan.

And for whatever reason, Smaug did not burn the girl and eat her when she was placed at the mouth of the cave in which was once the great Dwarven kingdom of Erebor, instead he took her in, gave her books and clothes, taught her ancient languages thousands of years old from when the 6000 year old dragon was just a hatchling.

And that is what the puzzle illustrates.

The picture is clear, but blurry. The picture is complete, but pieces are still missing.

Aewneth was good at most puzzles, but this one she still hasn't gotten right, but she was wise enough to know that.

Her room was once the kings quarters, it was a large room, with a view of the hoard from above, she could look from her window and see the slumbering dragon beneath the gold, the glistening gems that reflected the torch lit room like stars. The kings quarters was once rather drab, with stone grey walls, archaic, minimalist lines and patterns carved into the wall and no colour- but having inhabited the place for 500 years, Aewneth had added her own touch to the place.

The walls were now covered in painted murals, she had copied the illustrations of flowers, plants and trees she had found in the many books of the great Erebor library onto the walls. The soft blankets and elegant clothes she had scavenged from other rooms were tailored to fit her taller physique and were hand embroidered with bugs and greenery.

Aewneth could not remember ever seeing the outside world with her own eyes, although she knows she has once- when she was an infant, before she was given to the great dragon Smaug.

So she sought inspiration though depictions, paintings and novels, because Erebor had no windows, it was a dark, dingy forge, dwarves did not need to leave the mountain and had no yearning too, while most would feel it was oppressive and imprisoning, the she-elf had never known anything different.

She knew she did not belong here. A sense of unease and discomfort had settled in the pit of her stomach all her life- but she did not know where she did belong.

She was not a dragon like her adoptive father, she was not accepted by her birth mother, and the people of lake town did not care for her either

And perhaps the day that a small halfling stumbled into her father's hoard, and woke him from his 60 year nap was a blessing from fate, or a gift from Eru Ilúvatar. Whoever set this chain of events in action changed the life of Aewneth, lost princess of Mirkwood, for better or for worse, that is yet to be decided.

••••••••

WOOOOO!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! I hope you all have a great day and don't get into too many family arguments, I know i probably will 😂

not proofread

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[growingingreenwood]

In the chap3 of No Other Choice, it begins with Thranduil and Ferdan arguing. Is there a specific reason why they are arguing, and so constantly as a matter of fact? Thank youu :))

There is a specific reason they were fighting ALL OF THE TIME! They were fighting about at what age they should let the Legolas, Farlen, Avaleina, and to a certain extent Eloissa and Tern join Greenwoods Military. They had so many arguments since the elfling's coming of Age Ceremonies were all fast approaching and everybody knew the second they were considered an 'adult' by elvish standards that they'd all want to join the fight for their people and their home.

Thranduil would let them join younger than Ferdan wanted because Thranduil thinks that if they DONT let them join (close) to when they want to, they will channel their energy, skills, and determination to do something to help into less constructive channels. He thinks that if they let them join the military, they'll be able to keep them in the lower ranks and close to home until they're older.

Ferdan's almost positive that if they let the elflings join when they want to, it wont matter WHAT Thranduil and Ferdan want, they wont give them a choice to do anything but move them higher up in the ranks. Maybe at first they could stop it, but not for long. They're too good. They could have already graduated from their training years ago but weren't simply due to their ages. He wants them to join later, when they're older, so that they can be 'kids' longer. He thinks the second they join the miliary they'll be gone. That they'll do everything and anything possible so be anything and everything that the world needs them to be, with little (if any) thought about what they need from themselves.

In hindsight, Ferdan was right.

[marhikit]

Artfight for @pistachiozombie !

I wanted to try my hand at drawing Leanna properly in my style and I decided to make it BofurAnna just cause I have a lot of cute pose thoughts and this happened

She's such a cute oc and I hope you like her and Bofur!

Interested in commissioning me? Click the source! 💗