#xirinofarvada

[jhelenivarsimae]

As he is losing Fingon, Maedhros is told secrets and given a new mission.

Author: @auntieaugury (Tumblr), Lilithsea (Ao3)

Artist: @jhelenivarsimae (Tumblr), XirinOfArvada (Ao3)

Fic Rating: T

Art Rating: G

Warning: Creator Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death

Relationships: Fingon/Maedhros (Tolkien), Maedhros/Maedhros’ Wife (Tolkien)

Characters: Maedhros (Tolkien), Fingon (Tolkien), Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Post-Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Canon-Typical Violence, Secret Marriage, Political Marriage, Extramarital Affairs, Illegitimacy, orc Maedhros

Word Count: 5,048

@tolkienrsb

Link to Art

Link to Fic

[elvenlair]

My second art for @tolkienrsb - Farewell! I paintedand emotional scene between Ecthelion and Glorfindel for this one.

A fanfic for this art will appear a bit later as it is written by a pinch hitter, once again thank you @jhelenivarsimae (XirinOfArvada on AO3). The link to the fanfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50262436/chapters/126963193

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Welcome Home

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/QMz7lVk

by XirinOfArvada

Nellas and Galdor finally reunite in Valinor, but it is not the reunion that Nellas dreamed of.

Words: 100, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 53 of From the Memoirs of the Eldar

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Nellas (Tolkien), Galdor of the Tree

Relationships: Nellas (Tolkien)/Galdor of the Tree

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/QMz7lVk

[ao3feed-thehobbit]

Desecrated Memory - Thranduil

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/XZK4Ofm

by XirinOfArvada

Thranduil visits his beloved wife's grave for the first time in centurie.

Words: 100, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 11 of From the Memoirs of the Eldar

Fandoms: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Thranduil (Tolkien), Thranduil's Wife

Relationships: Thranduil/Thranduil's Wife

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Grief/Mourning

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/XZK4Ofm

[grundyscribbling]

My art for this year’s TRSB!

I was thinking of the survivors’ journey after the fall of Gondolin. This moodboard is a mix of stock photos and my own photos. (Stock photos: top row, bottom right.)

I can’t wait to share the fic written for it by @jhelenivarsimae (I can’t wait to read it, either!)

[yellow-faerie]

*coughs* Back at it again with my Turgon/Galdor agenda.

“I would protect you and I would love you until my dying breath.”

A good agenda to be on.

From this prompt list.

1 - “I would protect you and I would love you until my dying breath.”

No-one had seen the king in three days, not since he had returned from the outer mountains after being summoned their by one of Thorondor’s servants.

After another meeting where they had all been left shuffling their papers as Turuk��no’s absence remained, the lords had assembled together and come to the conclusion that something had to be done.

“Lómion and I have both tried,” Itarillë said, her face betraying her concern. “But there was no answer. I know his meals are being eaten and a few of the servants have seen him but I’m really beginning to get concerned.”

Lómion, as ever, hangs in Itarillë’s shadow and nods his head in agreement.

Galdor was almost unanimously voted in as the next person to try for virtue of having known Turukáno for so long and he had never been able to say no to Itarillë when she made that face.

So that was how he ended up picking the lock to the bedroom of his greatest friend in the world, a cooling tray of dinner for the both of them on the floor beside him.

His hairpin - a begetting day present from Itarillë a few years ago - snaps in the lock and the two broken pieces fall into his open palm.

He swears and clambers to his feet in a huff. “You’re impossible,” he says very loudly so that he knows Turukáno will hear him. “I can’t believe you proofed your lock against being picked.”

There is no answer.

“Come on Turvo, please let me in. The food will taste fine even if it is a bit cold.”

When Turukáno doesn’t answer that, Galdor accepts his defeat.

With a sigh he bends down to pick up the tray. “I’m going now. I’ll send someone up with your food. Please come out soon - we’re all worrying about you.” He pauses before admitting quietly. “I’m worried about you.”

He hovers there a moment before turning away, already planning his own evening plans.

Behind him, the door opens a crack. “Gal?”

Galdor turns so fast he nearly spills lukewarm tea over the very nice carpets laid out on the floor.

Turukáno hasn’t seemingly got dressed today and from how rumpled his nightshirt and hair is, Galdor thinks that he hasn’t changed since he first locked himself away.

The rest of him doesn’t look much better: his hair is in disarray, his shoulders slumped and his eyes are rimmed in black and red from a lack of sleep and what Galdor can only suppose is crying.

“Oh Turvo,” he says and slips past him into the room to put the tray down on the table. Turvo follows his movement with tired eyes, hugging the doorpost seemingly for support and only moving when Galdor comes right up and gently coaxes him to sit on the edge of the bed.

He shuts the door and takes a seat beside him. He lays a hand on the bedcovers so Turukáno has some support should he choose to take it.

“What’s wrong?” Galdor asks quietly and waits in the silence for Turukáno to answer.

He eventually says, in a hoarse voice, “Atto is dead.”

Galdor feels all his insides go cold. “Dead?” He repeats softly.

“He went to face Morgoth alone.” Turukáno’s face twists momentarily into disgust and hatred before it settles back into impassivity. “Thorondor says he…he managed to maim him but he was defeated, ultimately. I…umm…I had to send a letter to Finno.”

Turukáno’s hand creeps over to rest on Galdor’s as he speaks.

“I hate that I’m the one who has to tell him. Finno is going to…hate being high king.” He doesn’t mention that telling your only remaining brother your father just died is a task nigh on impossible to do at all well.

Turukáno falls silent then, squeezing Galdor’s hand and staring at the opposite wall.

“People leave,” he says softly, just as Galdor thinks that he has finished speaking, “and they stay gone.”

“I won’t. I’m staying here.” Galdor turns around and takes Turukáno’s hand more firmly in his. “I swore myself into your service and I would protect you and love you until my dying breath.”

“No,” Turukáno says sharply, looking up to meet Galdor’s gaze, the edges of kingship coming back into his stature, “you can do anything but die. You do not leave me too.”

“I…” Galdor starts, then trails off at the intensity of emotion he can see in Turukáno’s eyes.

“Swear it. Swear you will not die for me.”

They stare at each other, eyes locked together, for a long moment.

“That would go against my oath of lordship,” Galdor says eventually.

But if it will make you happy, he adds silently as finally all façade of being ok slips off like an ill-fitting cloak and Turukáno pitches forward to son into Galdor’s shoulder, I would go against that oath a thousand times over.

[slumbering-lore]

@xirinofarvada​ Thankyou for the cakes, appreciate them, have some too (つ≧▽≦)つ 🍰🍰🍰

Also this prompt is angst to fluff :)

•••

“Shut up and hold me.”

•••

Ecthelion was an introvert. He wasn’t one to easily communicate with people for anything other than work. This time too, he had thought he would have a small talk with the golden elf about their respective houses. Yet he found himself opening up to this near stranger.

Glorfindel and Ecthelion had talked before, but not really in a friendly chit-chat manner. A quick news of what is going on, or maybe a command from Turgon, nothing else. But today Glorfindel came out of nowhere, offering him a small woodcarving.

Ecthelion complimented it, hoping the other would go away, but they didn’t. Instead Glorfindel stayed, seemingly concerned with his life.

“I am fine. How about you?” Ecthelion asked. Grave mistake. It ensued further communication.

Ecthelion zoned out. He was sitting by the ledge of his fountain. It was in a more remote location of Gondolin, for it was large and deep. Ecthelion knew the design was dangerous. The ledge protruded inside the fountain’s bowl quite bit, making it very difficult to get out of the fountain if you ever fell inside.

And that was exactly what happened. Ecthelion absent-mindedly leant back too far, slipped and fell into the fountain. Glorfindel started laughing. The elf was unaware of it’s design hazard.

Ecthelion groped at the sides, his fingers slipping on the polished marble. He panicked, and screamed out Glorfindel’s name.

Glorfindel finally seemed to realize that something was wrong. He managed to pull out the panicked elf without much problem, for he was trying to stay afloat.

“I could’ve died…” Ecthelion whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. His cloak and everything was dripping wet.

Glorfindel didn’t say anything. He was speechless. Carefully, he leaned over the surface of the water, and noticed the trap-like built.

“Why do you have such a fountain?”

Ecthelion stayed silent. It was none of of Glorfindel’s business. The reason stays and dies with him.

Glorfindel hugged the wet elf, uncaring of his own garments. “I got scared. I thought you could get out on your own, and were just sort of acting.”

Ecthelion leaned into the embrace. Glorfindel continued, “I uh- Can I do something for you? Should I get you warmer clothes? You can wear mine if you want.”

“Shut up and hold me.”

Glorfindel shut up. Ecthelion buried himself completely into the other’s embrace, feeling comfortable with a fellow elf after a long time. He had been isolating himself, finding no one he could click with.

Yet this golden elf came out of nowhere, and warmed his heart.

[burning-quesadilla]

OH OH!! Turgon and Galdor for confession (29??? I think.. I couldn't read the number very well, I have bad eyesight)!!! Idk why but when I saw the prompts that's the first thing that popped into my head.

💚Thanks so much for the request! Confession is 24 if you were wondering, but here you go:

I’m torn between hating this and thinking it’s decent, so please tell me your opinion!

[arofili]

Hey.. so this might be a dumb question and I don't even know why I'm asking this in the first place. But is it possible to be ace but not aromantic? Because I've been thinking and I'm starting to think I'm asexual, but not exactly aromantic... I don't know. I'm just really confused right now. Have a good day!

Absolutely not a dumb question! Yes, it’s definitely possible to be ace but not aro (also known as alloromantic). There are a lot of alloromantic aces, you’re in good company. The ace and aro communities are sister communities, and we have a lot of overlap; I, personally, am aroace, but there are alloromantic aces and allosexual aros and we’re all under the larger a-spectrum umbrella.

@amazingaro is my sideblog for aspec things; there are lots of great ace focused blogs like @fuckyeahasexual, @ace-and-aro-support-group, @ace-and-aro-wlw-positivity, @exceptionallyace, and @grace-and-ace that you could check out for more info and advice! I’d also recommend the podcast @soundsfakepod!

If you have any more questions or would like to chat privately, just hit me up, I’m happy to talk :)

[jhelenivarsimae]

That means that Galdor will have to go home, which has him thinking of Nevrast again. It’s a stressful conundrum to be in: Lord Turgon has always been very fair to him, and they have grown perhaps closer than is wise for lord and vassal throughout the years, but Finrod is such a literal ray of warm sunshine that Galdor cannot help but be drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Author: @elentarial (Tumblr), BaccaratBlack (AO3)

Artist: @jhelenivarsimae (Tumblr), XirinOfArvada (AO3)

Fic Rating: E

Art Rating: G

Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Beor the Old/Finrod Felagund | Findarato (implied), Galdor of the Tree/Turgon of Gondolin (Tolkien), Finrod Felagund | Findarato/Galdor of the Tree, Amarië/Finrod Felagund | Findarato (implied), Finrod Felagund | Findarato/Turgon of Gondolin/Galdor of the Tree

Characters: Finrod Felagund | Findarato, Galdor of Gondolin (Tolkien), Turgon of Gondolin (Tolkien), Orodreth | Artaresto

Additional Tags: Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2024, Unrequited Love, Complicated Relationships, Liege/Vassal Dynamics, Dreams vs. Reality, Threesome - M/M/M, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Galdor’s Mess of Feelings, Orodreth's Fortune Telling that No One Asked For, Drama in Nargothrond, Arafinwean Antics, Art Slide 143

Word Count: 5,486

@tolkienrsb

Link to Art

Link to Fic

[elvenlair]

Fic: A Box of Letters and Memories by @jhelenivarsimae / XirinOfArvada on ao3

Art by me

Rated: T

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Ecthelion of the Fountain/Glorfindel, Glorfindel (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Ecthelion of the Fountain/Original Character(s)

Characters: Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Elenwë

Word count: 12,209

Glorfindel tells his story to his children through a series of letters, climaxing with the fall of Gondolin.

For @tolkienrsb

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Out the Window

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/QrCSHeg

by XirinOfArvada

Elenwë and Turgon are convinced that Aldaron is hopeless after he runs away from a date by jumping out a window.

Words: 100, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 54 of From the Memoirs of the Eldar

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Galdor of the Tree, Elenwë (Tolkien), Turgon of Gondolin

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/QrCSHeg

[ambarto]

Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased?

As a general rule? No. Granted, people can have certain biases when it comes to shipping, but those biases apply whether the ship is popular or not. Thinking about, for example, those homophobic folk who will tell people not to ship a gay pairing because the characters can’t be gay. They will be more vocal when it comes to popular ships, but they will also be mad about the rarepairs. But if someone simply says that they don’t like a ship, there’s absolutely no reason to think that they must have some kind of hidden agenda against it. Usually if someone tells me they don’t ship something popular I just assume it’s because they don’t like the ship, and they wouldn’t like it regardless of whether it’s a popular ship or not.

Also because I’ve seen many times people say “if you don’t ship this popular ship you are in denial” and then the ship was a fanon ship that would most likely never be made canon. So, in denial about what? I don’t know, I get wanting your ship to have a canon basis for it, but sometimes I really see people desperately climbing on mirrors trying to say why their ship is actually canon if you squint. And I never really got it, because shipping for me isn’t about what is canon or isn’t canon. Even if my ships never became canon, that wouldn’t stop me from liking them and thinking the characters have chemistry between them. Fandom is transformative, after all. If we can all make the most canon divergent au fanfics possibly imaginable, surely we can ship something fanon?

And frankly, if there is a possible bias that makes people not ship something popular on purpose, it’s shippers attitudes usually. I can name multiple ships that are extremely popular, that I was overall fairly neutral on, but the shippers were so insufferable that I grew to hate the ship thanks to them. Like when you see something you don’t overly mind, but it’s everywhere, and people are screaming about how you must be blind not to see it, and telling you you must ship it, you start to get angry on reflex whenever you see that thing.

So for me if someone doesn’t like a ship, they just don’t like a ship. And if that ship happens to be a popular one, then I’m sorry about them, cause now they’ll have to see it forever. Even if it’s my OTP and I will never understand how can someone not like it, I will just assume that person has found a reason to dislike it. Thinking people who aren’t into something popular is doing it for some kind of denial or bias is just how ship wars are born.

[absynthe--minded]

I've been dying to know. But how is abysnthe pronounced?

this is the best question I’ve ever been asked OKAY SO

it’s pronounced the same way “absinthe” the liquor is. ABS-inth where “inth” rhymes with “plinth”. Absynthe Morstan was the name of an OC I invented when I was fourteen and wanted to write Sherlock Holmes-inspired mysteries (I’m a Book Only Holmes Fan. Jeremy Brett/Granadaverse and the BBC4 radio dramas can stay but they’re not the books) with girls as the protagonists. Her real name was Melinda but she hated it so she went by Absynthe to be an edgelord and piss off her stepmother.

my URL sort of rhymes with “absent-minded” but not really? and the name itself comes from a misread prop bottle in Van Helsing (2004) because I was and remain a closet goth.

[yellow-faerie]

For the nonsexual acts of intimacy meme. Oh please could I have ♠️ for Turgon/Galdor? I need them in my life so badly. (I'd give you my soul emeems, yes I saw the message ejwkw)

Of course! I’d be happy to! From this prompt list.

♠ - Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

Galdor looks up at the knock on the door, his hands awkwardly placed behind his neck as he tries to do up the complicated clasp on his necklace.

A gift from Rôg who did not seem to understand the word ‘simplicity’ unless it was directed at weapons making.

It is Turukáno.

The necklace half clipped, Galdor falls into a bow, instinct kicking in.

Turukáno sighs and he straightens up, feeling his face warm up. They have been...experimenting recently with something less formal than the relationship between a liege and his vassal and Galdor is still adjusting to the shift in their dynamic.

Turukáno smiles ever so slightly, an expression that feels slightly out of place on his serious face. Galdor quite likes it.

“Would you like some help with that?” He asks, stepping into the room and closing the door behind himself.

“Yes please, yo - Turukáno.”

Turukáno ignores Galdor’s slight slip up, coming around behind him as he scrapes his hair off the back of his neck.

“A gift from Rôg?” Turukáno asks, starting an idle conversation.

“Yes. You know how he is.”

Turukáno laughs softly and Galdor smiles to know that he is the one to make his high strung king take off his mask, even if just for a moment.

“Quite. I’ve had to employ Itarillë’s help more than once for help with some of his creations.”

Turukáno’s fingers brush against his skin as they lay the necklace flat.

“There.” At a gentle touch to his shoulder, Galdor turns.

Turgon smiles again but it is not just his lips. His eyes glow brighter, with something other than the light of the Trees; his face creases in a way beyond the usual worry lines that paint his face; and Galdor can feel the joy come off him, a small wave but warm and full of a tentative joy.

“You look beautiful,” He whispers softly and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

Galdor sighs happily, leaning into the touch.

They stay there a moment, just drinking in each other’s presences, before Turukáno pulls away.

He offers Galdor his arm. “Care to accompany me, my Lord?” He asks, his tone light in ways it barely ever is.

“Of course, sire.” Galdor settles his hand in the crook of his arm and they share a smile before making their way out of the apartment and to the ballroom from where music already floats.

Galdor thinks he will enjoy this ball.

[slumbering-lore]

Happy Birthday @xirinofarvada !!! Have a Plantdor 🥺 I hope you're having a wonderful day and well 🥳