tehhumi

Elven pregnancy

Thu, 09 Nov 2023 02:08:01 GMT

Elven pregnancy takes a year. What takes a century is reshaping a body to have a womb, pregnancy, and then changing your body back.

Brought to you by someone whose favorite part of the old no-explanation-mpreg fics was that either character could have borne the child. End biological determinism of childcare from the first moment; have a discussion between partners about whose life works best with pregnancy and who is willing to undergo the bodily changes.

Also, your body is not as strong when you're devoting energy to reshaping major organs, or as good at recovering from injuries, so that's why elves don't have children in war time.

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Fight the break of dawn

Fri, 29 May 2020 15:00:21 GMT

It’s the last night of Maglor’s visit to Himring. In the morning he’ll ride out again to the Gap; he’s already been away from his duties for nearly a month.

He treasures every glimpse of happiness on Maedhros’s face. The Lord of Himring generally maintains a severe composure, but occasionally there will be a glint in his eye that betrays his feelings. He doesn’t join in the banter with Maglor as when they were youths, and sometimes looks like he’s wondering if he should throw Maglor out the door on his ear, but it’s something.

And Maglor never forgets that these moments of intimacy are far more than he deserves. Maedhros has to let Maglor visit occasionally - the Gap needs supplies and Maedhros would never abandon one of his brothers - but conversing with Maglor as anything closer than a lieutenant is a gift Maglor makes sure to always appreciate.

Fingon is due to visit from Hithlum this week, and Maglor will be gone before his cousin steps foot in Himring. He is no longer his eldest brother’s chief confidante, and will not make Maedhros suffer his company when Maedhros has an alternative other than solitude. They aren’t as close as they once were, and Maglor refuses to resent that.

It’s not that Maglor hates Fingon. How could he, when Fingon is so much better for Maedhros than he is? Maglor fought at Alqualonde because his father had ordered it and to save his own skin; Fingon fought to save Maedhros. If Maglor had been in Araman rather than Losgar when the ships burned, he would have turned back, not gone on to help someone who had turned their back on him.

And of course there’s Thangoordirm. Fingon walked in and rescued Maedhros. Maglor took Maedhros’s throne and forbid anyone from assaulting Angband (they’d already lost two kings and their guards trying; it seemed hopeless.)

The bottom line is, Maglor knows exactly why Maedhros prefers to spend time with Fingon rather than with him. But as long as Fingon isn’t here, Maglor will spend every moment he can get with Maedhros.

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Check in meme

Fri, 24 Apr 2020 16:06:28 GMT

borrowed from [Bad username or unknown identity:  ]
1. Are you an essential worker? Technically? Warehouse workers are essential, I'm a a warehouse worker. But I have asthma so I told my boss I was taking a 4-week Leave of Absence, of which I'm now at the end of week 3.

2. How many drinks have you had since the quarantine started? One glass of wine. It's just not really my thing, I tend to go for chocolate instead.

3. If you have kids... Are they driving you nuts? I do not reside with any children!

4. What new hobby have you taken up during this? Actually posting on my kink-fic-blog, I guess? The answer was going to be woodburning but it's been too cold to do crafts outside.

5. How many grocery runs have you done? I live with my parents (in their late 50's), and they've been doing the once a week grocery run because of my asthma. In normal times I shop once a week and my dad runs out for random items every two days, but my mom and I have mostly talked him out of it.

6. What are you spending your stimulus check on? A bunch of little things, since taking a leave of absence means I don't get unemployment payments. Renewing my passport. Buying a hair clipper so I can myself a side shave like I've always wanted.

7. Do you have any special occasions that you will miss during this quarantine? My cousin is going to graduate from college and start med school in three weeks, and we were all going to meet him down in Missouri for it. Also I wanted to go to the zoo for my birthday earlier this month, do an experience rather than presents.

8. Are you keeping your housework done? My dad is and I am helping when asked. He's going stir crazy as his work has been out for about 5 weeks - he's still technically working but major manufacturers are not buying industrial equipment right now, and he cant go in to demonstrate stuff even if they were.

9a. What movie have you watched during this quarantine? None, require too much emotional energy or attention span or something like that..

9b. What are you reading right now? I got Captive Prince out from the library right before this started, but I am just stalled on everything right now.

9c. What video game are you playing? None, not my thing.

10. What are you streaming with? Spotify (free version) for slowly catching up on The Magnus Archives, and I have Netflix available

11. Nine months from now is there any chance of you having a baby? Not unless I imitate Maglor and kidnap one.

12. What's your go-to quarantine meal? My standard oatmeal with raisins an peanut butter for breakfast. Mac&cheese with frozen vegetables thrown in for something in the fridge that's just MINE. We're still cooking normal dinners every night, so usually leftovers for lunch

13. Is this whole situation making you paranoid? Somewhat. Reminding me I never got screened for depression, but I sure do have executive dysfunction when there are no real deadlines. My emotional state is more "despair of ever being able to go anywhere" than "terror of me or my loved ones personally dying or losing all our income even if we stay inside out nice little bubbles."

14. Has your internet gone out on you during this time? No.

15. What month do you predict this all ends? What do you mean by this? I expect myself to be back to work in May. I expect restaurants to be open for sit down in my state by early June. I expect concerts and festivals to happen again in mid July or late August.

16. First thing you're gonna do when you get off quarantine? First day: wander around Target and smell all the scented candles. First week: go to a zoo that's far enough away I stop in a random cafe on the way and buy a cupcake and eat it there.

17. Where do you wish you were right now? At the public library in my town

18. What free-from-quarantine activity are you missing the most? Honestly kind of going to work? It's where I got most of my social interaction in, but I'm not going back until I know it's safe and I can't know it's safe without going to see. And I only go to the movies every month or two, but not having the option is really annoying.

19. Have you run out of toilet paper and hand sanitizer? Nope! My mom bought a big pack of toilet paper a week and a half before the first case was fond in our state, so we've been able to use that as a buffer. And we had a bunch of those giant soap refill bottles laying around, saving the hand sanitizer for when we're out and about (rare).

20. Do you have enough food to last a month? We've been going by the CDC's guideline for 2 weeks (if one of us gets sick), so we have that much fresh veggies and interesting meat. For 3 or 4 weeks, we'd be eating a lot of bacon and tuna over polenta or rice, but it would probably work. And my brother works for Instacart and does not live with us, so he would be willing to no-contact drop off groceries on our porch if we paid him. even if all the slots are full.

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1 week into lockdown

Tue, 14 Apr 2020 00:33:52 GMT

The rest of the state has been in lockdown for longer, but it's been a week since I went on a leave of absence. I told work not to expect me back before May 4, filed for unemployment, all that jazz.

I'm settling into a routine at least a bit. I've got an alarm set for 8 am, and am doing something productive by 10. My dad is helping at a soup kitchen two nights a week, and my mom is working from home. We're still cooking dinner every night and eating it together, and a lot of days we've ended up eating lunch together as well since there's only one kitchen and one dining room. We're kind of low on topics to talk about other than Covid, but at least we get along well enough and have face to face human contact.

I keep thinking this is the perfect time to read that new book, but I'm finding most of the books I have on hand hard to get into. Some of it is because these are the books that didn't grab my attention so strongly I read them all in one stretch, but also I think it's just hard to care about new fictional worlds when I'm feeling overwhelmed by the real world to this extent. I'm still enjoying reading and writing fanfiction though, and listening to the Magnus Archives, so at least it's not a generalized apathy about stories. {Note to future tehhumi: If you start having a general apathy about stories, even sharing ridiculous ideas in discord, consider if you have depression.}

We had one truly gorgeous day last week, but that rest of the weather has highs in the 40's or low 50's (Farenheit, around 10 Celsius). Still means I can go outside with a jacket and gloves but no scarf or hat, so I'll take it.

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We are not shining stars

Wed, 08 Apr 2020 01:10:30 GMT

My latest fic on Ao3.

Celebrimbor, Idril, and Elrond chat in Valinor over tea.

1800 words, rated G, no warnings apply. Just some cousins catching up / getting to know each other in the fourth age.Basically fluff, though it ends on a kind of down note.

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Sun, 05 Apr 2020 17:21:54 GMT

Life Update: I told my bosses to take me off the schedule, and tomorrow (Monday) they are going to place me on furlough. This is freaky, but I have asthma and don't feel comfortable continuing to go to work as my state climbs to 4th (or is Michigan 3rd by now?) in infection rates.
On the plus side, I live with two other people who I enjoy talking to, and who both understand how serious this is.

Quarantine Productivity Goals

Write 300 words OR transcribe two pages of handwritten fic into the computer OR post one fic per day
Apply to 2 jobs per week (I know no one's hiring, but it will get me in practice redoing my resume)
Consume one unit of Professionally Produced Content (chapter of a book, episode of TV show, episode of podcast, half a movie, etc.) that I've been meaning to get to per day
Go outside (at appropriate distances) at least once a day, even it's raining. Ten minutes in the backyard will still majorly lift my mood.
Consider scheduling a regular Screaming My Feelings At The Air time (I write far slower than I think, and don't care if there's a record, but putting thoughts into sentences is helpful). Feels like twice a week should do.
Clean off my desk of random papers. Work on tidying my room, at least twice a week, at least an hour at a time.
Don't even consider returning to work until after April 19. Don't feel guilty if I stay away until May. If they wanted loyalty they should pay more than $13.50/hr pre-tax, and people can live without their fancy mail order pastries.
Find one thing that gives me joy every day.

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Mon, 16 Mar 2020 00:46:58 GMT

I work for a company that ships gourmet food in the USA. I expect the next few weeks to be busier than normal at work, with everyone avoiding going out to the store and ordering online instead.
This means I will be online the same negligible amount as normal or even less, but I am 100% okay!

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Dwarves and Gender

Sun, 19 Jan 2020 04:58:22 GMT

Headcanon: Dwarves have no social genders (roles that you are expected to live according to, rarely if ever change, and clearly signal to others in the community) and 7 grammatical genders (sets of pronouns, common adjectives, and ways to conjugate verbs).

child dwarf
adult dwarf
member of other tool-making species (elves, men, orcs, crows, etc.)
growing thing (grass, trees, cows, potato plants, fish, cats, etc.)
raw material (marble, wood, iron, wool, harvested apples, gems straight out of the earth, most emotions, etc.)
crafted thing (clothes, tools, swords, casseroles, jewelry, pots, stained glass windows, philosophies, etc.)
place (the mountains, towns, a specific city, the ocean, etc.)

Another reason dwarves don’t often teach Khuzdul is that new speakers tend to use only a few grammatical genders, and put things in the wrong one even between those.

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Russingon as an r/relationships post

Sat, 04 Jan 2020 02:05:54 GMT

fail_fandomanon had "Your OTP as an r/relationships post" a couple posts ago, and I wrote this. A week later, I have finally remembered to post it here!

Title: My[22M] boyfriend[24M] is weirdly devoted to his recently-deceased dad

I know everyone's going to think I'm a jerk, but hear me out please. I really need some outside perspective on the situation.
My boyfriend's dad really cared about his kids, and they all loved him too. The problem was that he was super hotheaded and always dragged them into things. Some examples:
- The time he threatened to kill my dad, and then the entire family including my boyfriend left town and stopped talking to anyone here. (Yes, we were dating at the time.)
- The time I waded into what I thought was my boyfriend getting beat up by a gang. Turns out his dad had tried to steal the leader's sweet ride, and got caught. My boyfriend and his brothers jumped in to help, and would have lost if me and my friends hadn't seen it. The police got involved, and now we all have a rap sheet because my boyfriend's dad has no impulse control.
- My family and my boyfriend's family were both going to move across the country, and coordinate the driving convoy-style so we would have familiar faces the whole way. His dad left early, and took the (agreed to be shared) moving van before we could load our furniture (all the hotel reservations were in my boyfriend's dad's name as well, so my family was out a significant chunk of change). My boyfriend apparently argued with his dad about this, but didn't stop him or call me at any point.
Shortly after moving, my boyfriend's dad died suddenly. My boyfriend tried to get 'revenge' for him, and I had to bail him out.
I've been trying to be sympathetic with my boyfriend. I've luckily never had a parent die, so I know I don't know what he's going through. His parents are divorced, so my boyfriend feels like he has to take care of his family now (he's the oldest).
But he keeps talking about his father's legacy. He's focused particularly on some knickknacks his dad made, and says it's not right for them to be in the hands of someone outside the family. The knickknacks were stolen, and there's a police report, but my boyfriend wants to steal them back himself. He always brings every conversation back to them! I tried asking him if we could talk about something else, and he said that he'd "already let Dad down enough." (His dad never liked me. It was mutual.)
I can't bring this up with anyone who knows me IRL, because they either don't know we're dating or would tell me to dump him. But my boyfriend is a really sweet guy, and I feel like being in a new place could be really good for us. Is this just normal grieving? At what point do I sit my boyfriend down and say that we need to talk about 'us', not just his dad?

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To Evil End

Thu, 14 Nov 2019 02:06:23 GMT

[A song of Maedhros after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, based on 'No Good Deed' from Wicked]

Findekano!
Utúlie'n aurë! Auta i lómë! Lómë auta Eldalië
Utúlie'n aurë! Auta i lómë! Lómë auta Eldalië

Let my force be in time,
Let him last one more night,
Though they’re weakened, let him stay upright!
Let his soldiers stand strong,
And however orcs try
To defeat him
Let him never die
Let him never die!

Utúlie'n aurë! Auta i lómë! Lómë auta Eldalië
Utúlie'n aurë! Auta i lómë! Lómë auta… auta…

What good is this fighting?
I don’t even know where I’m going,
Don’t even know what trick I ought to try,
Oh Fingon where are you? Already dead or bleeding?
One more disaster I can add to my generous supply!

No good deed goes unpunished,
All helpful urges should be circumvented,
Sure I meant well,
Well look at what well-meant did.
No good deed goes unpunished,
That’s my new creed!

Amrod…
Uncle Fingolfin…
Findekano…
Finde-KANO!

One question haunts and hurts,
Too much, too much to mention,
Was I really seeking good,
Or just some cheap ‘redemption’?
Is that all my deeds are when looked at from an eagle’s eyes?
If that’s all my deeds are, maybe that’s the reason why

No good deed goes unpunished,
All helpful urges should be circumvented,
Sure I meant well,
Well look at what well-meant did.
No good deed goes unpunished,
That’s my new creed!

Alright enough, so be it,
So be it then,
Let Arda be agreed,
I’m wicked through and through.
Since I can not succeed, dear Fingon, saving you,
I promise no good deed shall I attempt to do again, ever again!

Begun well, yet evil to end!

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All the things I didn't do for you Celebrimbor/Curufin

Thu, 31 Oct 2019 03:15:50 GMT

on Ao3: All the things I didn't do for you
Fandom: the Silmarillion (JRR Tolkien)
Pairing: Celebrimbor/Curufin
Warnings: No major archive warnings apply, father/son incest, emotional manipulation
Rating: Teen
Word count: 1645
Summary: Curufin is returned to life in Valinor, and meets with his son again. Not that Celebrimbor sees himself as such - he'd much prefer a different role in Curufin's new life...

Curufin walked out of Lorien. He didn’t know where he was going, but he had finally been permitted to return from death, and he was not going to spend another minute in the realm of any Vala.
After a few hours, he came across another elf.
“Hello Curufin.”
“Tyelpe?”
“I prefer Celebrimbor.”
“I’m sorry for what I did-”
Celebrimbor cut him off. “None of your crimes were against me. And I like the person I’ve become on my own, so I won’t hear apologies for leaving me in Nargothrond either.”
Curufin was not expecting that. They walked in silence for a bit.
“I didn’t expect this path to be heavily travelled – I’m surprised I ran into you.”
“It’s not. Lord Irmo notifies the next of kin when someone returns, to help the newly alive adjust. My mother lives in Alqualondë and does her best to stay completely away from Noldor, so she was not considered.”
“And so Irmo notified you?”
“He notified Caranthir, who has been staying at my house.”
“Thank you for coming.”
Celebrimbor nodded.
“I’d be interested to see anything you’ve crafted. By all accounts, you designed amazing things in Middle Earth.”
“Well yes, I could hardly let the name of Feanor be associated with poor quality.”
“What about the name Curufinwe?”
“The name Curufinwe is best known for trying—and failing—to kill a mortal who insulted his pride. Not really a reputation to build on.”
“That’s all?”
“What else would it be?”
“I am a smith, and forged armor that withstood all weapons!”
“What great work did you create? Feanor built the Silmarils and the palantiri. I made the rings of power and the gates of Khazad-dum. But Curufin left no artifacts, no legacy.”
“I created you. I consider that a good legacy.”
“I don’t. I owe little to you.”
“Why then come and walk this far with me?”
“I don’t consider myself Curufinwion, but I have upheld the legacy of Feanor still. I would not leave a kinsman out alone.”
“That’s what you call me? A kinsman, not a father?”
“You said yourself that I was no longer your son if I disobeyed you, so I see no reason to consider you my father. I lived a dozen yeni without you in my life, I am not going to bow to you now.”
“I’m not asking you to. But I still think we know each other better than, say, Aegnor or Eärendil, or anyone ese you might call kinsman.”
“Perhaps. But I am your equal, whether or not you wish it.”
“I never thought you were inferior. Would you accept brothers?”
“I would.”
“It is good to be with family then, my brother Celebrimbor.”
“Indeed it is, my brother Curufin,” Celebrimbor said with a smile.

The two of them made it back to Celebrimbor’s house shortly after nightfall. The front path was lit with a Feanorian lamp.
“Caranthir didn’t wait up or us?” Curufin asked on seeing the dark house.
“He’s staying with his mother tonight. He expected there to be a lot of shouting, and wanted to make sure his own chance to shout at you would be uninterrupted.”
“What about? It’s not like he left a lot unsaid while we were alive, and we died within hours of each other.”
“You’d have to ask him, I stopped keeping track of which family members are angry with each other if it’s not life-threatening; the number of grudges is simply unmanageable otherwise.”
Curufin paused at the gate. “Was Caranthir right to worry about yelling?”
“We’ll see how the night goes. Come inside, I’ll find something for dinner.”
Celebrimbor had bread and vegetables in his kitchen, and fresh eggs form the hens out back, so they ate sandwiches. Talk over dinner was stilted, but not angry.
They washed their plates, standing beside each other at the sink. Celebrimbor brushed against Curufin frequently. When they were done, he leaned in and kissed Curufin on the cheek. He stroked his hand in Curufin’s hair and did not move away.
“Celebrimbor, what are you doing?”
“I thought it was obvious, but I shall try again.” Celebrimbor kissed his father on the lips this time, running his tongue across the seam where his mouth was stubbornly set closed.
After a moment of surprise, Curufin pulled back sharply. “No!”
Celebrimbor stayed where he was leaning against the counter. “Why not?”
“Have you gone mad—even if you wish to forget it, I fathered you. And even if you insist I am now your brother, that is still too close of kin!”
“Stop being so self-righteous.”
“That seems like a poor characterization of not wanting to kiss family members.”
“I am merely enjoying time with my brother in the traditional manner of Feanor’s sons. You’ll have to come with a different reason to drive me away.”
All the color drained from Curufin’s face. “How do you know about that?”
“How do I know that you and Celegorm were fornicating down the hall from me for four hundred years? Give me some credit. And even if I had been stupid enough not to see it then, I led the house of Feanor for half an age—any secrets known to our followers are mine as soon as I wish to know.”
“I never thought you were stupid.”
“Just naïve and childish. Well, I am no longer a child, and I want you.”
“Just because Celegorm and I—”
“And Maglor and Caranthir and all the rest of them, don’t pretend it was exclusive.”
“It still doesn’t mean that I wish to do anything with you, or now.”
“I think you do. I remember how sensitive my body was my first day back. I bet you’re already hard just from one little kiss. Imagine how good it will be if you touch my cock—or yours.”
Curufin moved away. “I will not have sex with the son of my body, the son I raised from birth!”
Celebrimbor made no move to follow, merely crossed his arms and looked levelly at Curufin. “Of course, I will not force you. If you don’t want to lie with me, you can spend the night in Caranthir’s room.”
“And tomorrow?”
“I believe I have made it clear that I have no use for a father. If you insist on treating me as your son, then you can go wherever will take you in. Formenos still has loyalty to Feanor for some reason.”
“That’s it? We haven’t seen each other in literal ages, and you would send me away after one night?”
“There are many others, some who you haven’t seen in just as long, who I’m sure would send you away on sight.”
“Not family—of the house of Feanor.”
“That’s because the rest of the family is dead, not for any virtue on your part.”
“If you think so little of me, wouldn’t you prefer a lover you held in more esteem?”
“I would prefer that you understand I know my own mind. I have had many years to consider this meeting, and what I want from you.”
“And what you want is my body, not my love or my pride for you.”
“I want to be intimate with you. You’ve made it clear time and again that you will not show me your mind or your heart, so the physical the only domain left.”
“I never intended to neglect you—”
“Your intentions then are past and dead,” Celebrimbor cut him off. “Actions in the present are all I want from you.”
“Quite lewd actions to demand, from someone you’ve never even courted.”
“I have hopes for tonight, but very low expectations. I’ve found it a useful approach in general, in this family.”
“What are those hopes? That after so many years of supposedly treating you as my inferior, I’ll suddenly submit to whatever purpose you wish of my new body?”
“That I know is fantastical, as it’s been millennia since you last climaxed. I want to see you bare as you come under my hand, and then follow you myself. Hardly an imposition.”
Curufin blushed. “You think that’s trivial?”
“Compared to whatever required twenty feet of rope and my second-best bronze hammer, yes.”
Curufin sighed. “Celebrimbor, I have had a long day. May we not discuss this in the morning?”
“Kiss me once for real. If you don’t enjoy it, I will let the matter rest for the night.”
“Alright.” Curufin walked up to Celebrimbor and leaned in. The press of their lips awakened something deep in his hroa, that of course he had not felt since he rode out to Doriath so many years ago. The touch was overwhelming bliss, despite what his mind might say about kissing his son.
Celebrimbor broke away first, and Curufin had to stop himself from pursuing.
“Now,” Celebrimbor said, “You cannot deny that was pleasurable.”
It had been in the moment, but now that they stopped all his thoughts came back and it was sickening. “I was not avoiding it out of fear of unpleasantness.”
“But if I enjoy it, and you enjoy it, what more matters?”
“You truly wish to have this of me, tonight, before I even meet any others in this life?”
“I would.”
“There is no other way that you want me in your life at all?”
“You forbid me the roles of vassal and son; I will not have them restored only to be taken away once more when you find a new cause to disagree with me. I will be your lover or I will be nothing to you.”
“You have never been nothing to me. I would make love with you rather than lose you.”
Celebrimbor grinned. “Then let us make tonight a night to remember!” He leaned in to kiss his father’s lips again.
Curufin closed his eyes and did his best to lose himself in sensation.

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Maedhros and Finarfin were friends

Sat, 26 Oct 2019 04:02:56 GMT

I think that Maedhros and Finarfin were really close friends when they were kids.
Feanor never particularly loved his step mother and half siblings, but he didn’t really dislike them either until Fingolfin grew old enough to be a political rival. He mostly viewed them as “people who are also frequently at many of the same places I am”, like workers in a different department of the same business in a small town. You nod and acknowledge them, but don’t think about them the moment they leave sight.
Finarfin is 61 years younger than Feanor, and we know that Feanor married young. Given how many kids he and Nerdanel ended up with, I assume they started soon.
So when Finarfin was born, Feanor thought “Huh, this acquaintance (Indis) has a kid only a year younger than mine. If we take turns watching the babies, I can get a lot more work done.” Indis figured this was a good way to get Feanor to spend time at least near his siblings, and hopefully work up to “interacting with them on their own merits.”
By the time Fingolfin was an adult, Maedhros and Finarfin were already close friends. And it’s not like the tension appeared overnight, so there was a while where Finarfin and Maedhros just kind of ignored that their parents knew each other at all.

Maedhros and Finarfin were lying in the garden.
“So, what are you going to be when you grow up?” Maedhros asked
Finarfin replied immediately with, “The most emotionally well adjusted child of Finwe.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
”I like it as a goal.”
“But it’s not a life path, like smith or parent or farmer or embroiderer or king.”
“Well, I’m not going to be king, that’s for sure.”
“Well I mean, of course neither of us will be. Finwe is king, and if he falls headfirst off the palace roof my dad would be king for a month or two until he returns from Mandos.”
“Don’t even joke about that!”
“Why not?”
“How would you like it if I said that if your dad died, we would all have a month or two of quiet?”
Maedhros sat up sharply and opened his mouth to yell, then carefully relaxed again. “I would be very angry, but I understand how annoying brothers can be.”
“Oh? What did Maglor do now?”
“It’s not Maglor, it’s Celegorm.”
“Isn’t he still a baby? What trouble can he be getting into?”
“He’s into climbing things now. He got on top of the china cabinet the other day and pushed a plate onto my head.”
“Did he fall after he pushed the plate down?”
“No, not even when I yelled because it hurt.”
“That’s honestly impressive at his age. Maybe he’ll be an acrobat.”
“What do you know about babies? You’re the youngest brother.”
“Lots. Fingolfin has been reading all sorts of baby books since he got married, and brings up random fact every conversation. Did you know that eighty percent of infants calm down when shown the stars, and only thirty percent do if you point at the Tree-lit sky?”
“I did actually, my dad says it’s more ‘proof that the Valar are not infallible.’ He’s got a list going, you know.”
“I don’t want to the see the list, because then I’d have to get in a shouting match about my mom. I think it’s just proof that it’s a smart idea to raise babies in Aqualonde.”
“That would make it easier. Is Fingolfin going to go there?”
“No, he thinks it wouldn’t be living up to our royal titles to run away. Besides, he likes Tirion, and so does Anaire. I’m surprised your dad doesn’t go though.”
“He’s got at least as much of a royal title to live up to.”
“Yeah, but he mostly shows up to the feasts and ignores public opinion the rest of the time. If it’s better to raise kids in Alqualonde, I’m surprised you’re still in the city.”
“They said easier, not better, and my dad doesn’t do things just because they’d be easier.”
“Not usually, but I thought babies might be a different matter for him.”
“We’ll be safe and my mom will be safe; if there was any question of that he’d make the whole city move out of tree-light if he had to.” Finarfin nodded, and Maedhros continued. “Besides, he likes to think his kids are smarter than the average baby, obviously too smart to be subdued by a panacea.”
“Well, I like having you around, so I certainly don’t your dad staying here. But when I have kids, I want starlight available.”
“Taking shortcuts?”
“Not denying myself useful things for the sake of pride. Most emotionally stable child of Finwe, remember?”
“That’s still not a job.”
“Oh, like you have one either.”
“I’m going to be Duke of Formenos.”
“Isn’t your dad supposed to rule that as crown prince?”
“I mean yes, but he doesn’t want to because it’s out in the middle of nowhere. So he said he’ll give it to me when I’m grown.”
“I’m pretty sure that only the king can redistribute governance.”
“Technically yes, but he’ll give it to me if my dad asks and it keeps him nearby.”
“Thank you so much for reminding me which kid is my dad’s favorite.”
“I mean, if you wanted to give a title to someone I bet he’d do it too. You just don’t have any kids who like politics yet.”
“A title maybe, but not a real responsibility. I don’t even have any real responsibilities to fob off on future kids.”
“I bet Finwe is just out of ideas. Five kids is too many to come up with great purposes for all of them.”
“So how many would you have then?”
“I’ve got little brothers, I think I’m fine without more babies in my life.”
“Not even if your wife wants one?”
“If she is truly my other half, she know babies are annoying. What about you?”
“Four or five, I guess. Depends on what they’re like.”
“So if the first three are no good, would you try for more to make up for it, or assume you’re terrible at making kids and stop?”
“That’s not what I meant!”
“It’s what you said!”
“Even if it was, I’m not going to tell you the plan. The kids would feel terrible if they ever found out!”
“But you admit there is a plan.”
“Fine. The plan for if the first couple kids are terrible is to drop them off on you, and start fresh with the fourth Arafinwion.”
“That is a terrible baby name, you should know.”
“Oh shut up, third prettiest one in the family.”
“Make me, tall brunet.” Maedhros said, pulling Finarfin’s golden hair over his eyes.
The conversation quickly devolved into a wrestling match from there.

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Only Gold is Hot Enough: Amras/Amrod/Maedhros

Fri, 18 Oct 2019 23:50:44 GMT

on Ao3: Only Gold is Hot Enough
Fandom: the Silmarillion (JRR Tolkien)
Pairing: Amras/Amrod/Maedhros
Warnings: No major archive warnings apply, sibling incest, twincest
Rating: Mature
Word count: 1372
Summary: The three of them knew that if word ever got out of their relationship, people would get it wrong. They would assume that the fierce Lord of Himring had commanded Amrod and Amras to his bed. If people knew that the three of them had been together since Valinor, they would say the far older Maedhros had manipulated his youngest brothers, gentling them to his touch as their bodies just started to awaken to lust.
Such speculation could not be further from the truth.

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Anger enough or despair

Sat, 05 Oct 2019 02:38:42 GMT

on Ao3: Anger Enough or Despair
Fandom: the Silmarillion (JRR Tolkien)
Pairing: Curufin /Maedhros
Warnings: Rape, Bad guys made them do it, suicide reference, sibling incest
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 3393
Summary: At the Dagor Bragollach, the pass of Aglon was overrun by Morgoth's forces, but many of its people escaped, and the orcs were eventually driven back by Maedhros.
This is a story if the Feanorians' luck had been a little worse.

Or, the second time Maedhros is captive in Angband is not any more pleasant than the first.

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When you see my face you'll know

Wed, 02 Oct 2019 12:43:19 GMT

on AO3: When you see my face you'll know
Fandom: The Silmarillion
Pairing: Celegorm/Curufin
Warnings: No major warnings, sibling incest
Rating: mature
Length: 1628
Summary: Curufin is looking for a discreet, anonymous hookup while out of town on a business trip. Celegorm is looking for a fun time in the city where he’s working his latest dead-end job. Possibly you should check someone’s identity a bit more with this big of a family.

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Iddy Iddy Bang Bang fics revealed!

Fri, 13 Sep 2019 16:17:58 GMT

Reveals are currently on going on for Iddy Iddy Bang Bang, where a bunch of people got together and egged on each other's most self-indulgent ideas! I wrote two fics, as far as i know the only Tolkien-based works in this bang.

The Role You Made Me Play is a sequel to Baby You Belong With Me, the Maedhros/Maglor and Maedhros/Fingon darkfic I wrote back in march for B2mem. Now with more angsting by Maglor, and more sacrificing himself to protect others from evil!Maedhros.

Something Tragic but Almost Pure is a what-if story, specific what-if Feanor had taken the throne by force in Tirion. Fingon can never resist the chance for a dramatic rescue, and in this case Maedhros is available to bail him out- at least as far his bedroom. Trying to convince your dad that you're not in love with this guy, but really would be bothered if your dad kills him, is a delicate balancing act.

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Bad Descsions Made Quickly

Fri, 06 Sep 2019 02:26:21 GMT

A dark haired man sat alone at his campfire.

“Who goes there?” He cried, drawing his sword, “Show yourself! I warn you, I learned to fight from the Marchwardens of Doriath!”

An elf with eyes that were nearly aflame emerged scarcely ten feet from the clearing’s edge. “You have good hearing for a Man.”

“And you are skilled in woodcraft for a Noldo.”

“That I am.”

“Why come you to my campfire?”

“You asked me to show myself. Otherwise I would have happily continued on my way.”

“But what are you doing so close to Doriath in the first place?”

The elf shrugged. “Hunting, and scouting. My kin may travel these lands soon. What concern are the borders of Doriath to a Man?”

“No concern.”

“What is your name, by the way? There are few who the Iathrim trust with their knowledge even among their own kindred. I am very surprised they taught a man.”

“I am Netihan.”

The elf snorted. “If that’s so, your parents are worse at naming than mine.”

“Who dares insult my family?”

“I call them only as bad as my own, though I’m sure there are many who view that as a deadly insult. I am known as Bainon.”

“That is an arrogant name.”

“If you think it ill-suited, you can call me something else.”

Neithan paused, then admitted, “It is not ill-suited.”

“Thank you. Now since your shouting has certainly scared off all the game for miles, will you put down your sword that I may join your fire?”

“You may.”

Bainon set down his bow and quiver before sitting on the ground as comfortably as if he were in a palace. “I rarely see sole travellers these days, and rarer still are they Men.”

“There are orcs about. I have been told that all the lands south of Anfauglith were safe to roam once, but that was long before my time.”

“True enough, but orcs can be evaded if you have the skill. I find the quiet in the woods without a dozen shouting arguments well worth the danger.”

“I believed so as well, but now that I have left I feel myself missing the sound of another voice.”

“Well, I am happy to share your fire tonight. And if you wish to go among strangers, I saw a group of Men two days west of here. They looked rough, but most groups would welcome a handsome young man with skill in woodcraft.”

“How many are they? Is it a village, or merely a group of soldiers? Do they have word from the north?”

Bainon shrugged. “I rarely speak to any on my travels, and I stayed too far away for them to spot me. What news do you seek though?”

Neithan considered for a moment, then admitted “I grew up in Hithlum. My mother and sister still dwell there.”

“I have no news of Hithlum, for all my kin there were slaughtered by Morgoth years ago. I wish you good fortune though, and to be reunited with your family this side of the sea.”

“This side of the sea?”

“With neither failing terribly or dying gloriously. It should be easier for you without a curse breathing down your neck.”

Neithan said nothing in response to that, but his face grew drawn and pale.

“Oh. Drink some of this then,” Bainon said as he pulled a small flask from his belt.

“What is it?” Netihan asked as he unscrewed the cap.

“Liquor made from berries that grow in the gardens of Vana. It is very potent; one sip and you feel pure joy.”

Neithan took a swig from the bottle and handed it back. “My thanks, I had not known such a thing existed.”

Bainon took a drink himself before closing the bottle. “Little was brought here from Valinor, and less still remains. But such things are made to be used and reveled in, not stored up for a future we may never see.”

“Eat and drink for tomorrow we may die,” Neithan quoted. “That is a refreshing viewpoint, coming from an elf.”

“I have often been accused of being a strange elf. Given the ones who do the accusing, I take it as a compliment.”

“Oh? In what other ways are you strange?”

“As you noticed, I am an unusually good tracker and exceptionally beautiful,” Bainon replied.

“Not humble, though.”

“Pah. Humble and polite and retiring, all of that is boring and slow. I think the reason they say to wait centuries for marriage is because talking through a dozen layers of indirection takes that long to know anyone’s interested.”

“I admit I have always found the claims that elves only have one lover for all eternity to be odd, but if it takes so long to communicate interest perhaps it is simply a practical matter. As a Man though, centuries of celibacy sounds very unpleasant.”

“I wouldn’t know myself.”

“You married young?” Neithan could not keep the disappointment from his voice.

“Oh no, I just decided to cut through the social pretenses. Most unmarried elves don’t actually throw a punch if you proposition them, and the ones that do I can outfight.”

Neithan thought about that for a moment, then walked quickly around the fire. When he reached Bainon, he bent down and kissed him on the lips.

Bainon kissed back, and shortly they found better ways than their clothes to keep warm.

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Orome is not Tulkas

Sun, 01 Sep 2019 18:39:32 GMT

Tulkas is the Vala of war. He came to Arda because he heard that Melkor was battling the others, and he wished to fight one equal to his strength. He is the god of just war, of glorious battle, of protecting the innocent, of vanquishing the evil. Tulkas rides out to battle with a banner streaming behind him to meet his foe face-to-face in fair combat. His philosophy is simple: Protect the good and destroy the wicked. Glorfindel is named after Tulkas, and he is a good example of a devotee of Tulkas.

Orome is the Vala of hunting. He has been in Arda from the beginning, as soon as there was life. He is the god of wolves in the shadows beyond the firelight, of the hunter who kills the wolf and brings back its pelt, of snares and traps, of patiently waiting for hours for a boar to come in view, of running after a herd of deer and killing the slowest. Orome rides out as well, but he kills fell beasts by leading them into traps as often as by spearing them, and will come up on them unawares whenever he can. His philosophy is simple: The weak must die for the strong, and the herd lives on.

Celegorm is a devotee of Orome.

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Two blackbirds at four in the morning

Wed, 28 Aug 2019 11:08:22 GMT

Argon woke up to warmth and fog. He was dead and in Mandos. Those were facts that were as certain as his Manwe was the lord of the Valar and the Vanyar lived in Valmar; he could not recall learning them because they were so obvious.

Argon looked around, for lack of better terminology. The mist seemed to organize as he searched, into a hallway that he was standing in an alcove of. There was another person nearby. They were familiar, though he couldn’t make out any features at all.

-Hello?- He greeted, though speaking made no sound here, merely left him certain the word had been said a moment ago.

The figure turned their attention towards him and was instantly in focus. -Hello Argon. I’d say it’s good to see you, but I’d hoped it would be longer before any more family members showed up.-

-Amrod? What are you doing here?-

-Lord Namo thinks it’s better for new fea to be greeted by family rather than unfamiliar maiar. And Grandpa can be overwhelming at times, especially here.-

-I meant what are you doing dead, you didn’t have to cross the Helcaraxe and should have been in much better shape when you met orcs.-

-You crossed the Helcaraxe?-

-Yes, we couldn’t exactly take the swanships after you lit them on fire!-

-I’ll have to tell my dad that burning them didn’t help anyone at all next time I see him.-

-How on earth was burning the ships supposed to help us?-

-He claimed that you would all happily go back and appoint Uncle Nolofinwe high king of Tirion if we made it clear that going forward was impossible. My dad would have a force of loyal dedicated soldiers, and your dad would have cowards and those loyal to him, and none of us would ever have to talk to each other again. Of course, this is all what he explained afterwards, and he might be making up reasons that sound better than hatred of Nolofinwe.-

-What, at the time he said ‘burn those’ and you did, just like that?-

-I don’t know what he said at the time, I was asleep. I woke up and the ships were on fire.-

-That must have been surprising.-

-Especially because I was on one. When we get out of here, I’m learning to swim underwater, maybe I could’ve got to shore then.-

-You died when the ships burned?!-

-Yes. It’s why I don’t talk to my dad that often.-

-He’s here too?- Argon looked around nervously. -Did he die tripping over a log or something?-

-Ambushed by balrogs while charging the gates of Morgoth’s fortress, and outrunning every person whose job it was to guard him.-

-Ah.-

-How did you die anyway?-

-Orcs attacked as soon as we reached land. I managed to take down their captain, but was surrounded. I don’t know if there were any balrogs.-

-I think they’re hard to miss. They’re supposedly fifteen feet tall with flaming wings. Not that I got a chance to see any, or even any orcs.-

-Wait, they’re fifteen feet tall and your dad was ambushed?-

-I don’t know how either. Anyway, welcome to Mandos, we’re stuck here for a while. Most fea can wander around and whoever they want, but I have to ask Lord Namo before I meet any other elves so I don’t disturb them, and my dad’s stuck in one room.-

-What about me?-

-I think you just get little pity and long abiding, not wrath of the Valar. You weren’t in the front at Alquaonde, right?-

-No, I was walking with Idril so Turgon and Elenwe could have a break.-

-Then you should be good to wander anywhere and talk to whoever you want, and if anyone tells you they’re willing to talk to me I can tell Lord Namo.-

-I’ll keep that in mind.-

-I suppose if you died as soon as you reached land you don’t know how my brothers are doing.-

-Well, it can’t be that bad or else they’d be here.-

-I guess, but I was still hoping for news.-

-Oh, there is one weird thing that happened. A giant light, twenty times as large as the biggest star, shining like Telperion half waned, showed up in the sky. It came from the east, and looked like it was headed for Valinor.-

-Huh.-

-The orcs seemed unhappy about it at least, or maybe they’re always angry like that.-

-Everyone else seems to think the orcs are always angry, but I don’t know. I mean, people say my dad’s always angry, and he’s only angry like twenty or thirty percent of the time he’s awake, and almost never when he’s asleep.-

-Lately they’ve been saying your dad is mad, not angry.-

-Yeah, but even before he started threatening people with swords they said he was angry, and even on the trip across the sea he had other emotions.-

-Maybe orcs aren’t always angry, but the ones I saw were.-

-You know, they say orcs used to be elves.-

-Maybe they’re what happens when elves are always angry, and your face gets stuck like that.-

-If being angry could turn you into an orc, Grandpa would’ve done something to calm my dad down.-

-Like what?-

-I don’t know, taught him how to knit? But it would have come up.-

-Good point. So orcs must be something other than angry elves.-

-We could ask.-

-Ask what? Ask Grandpa why your dad doesn’t knit?-

-No, ask an orc where they come from.-

-Do orcs even come to Mandos?-

-I think so. I haven’t explored the whole place, but some sections of it discourage lingering more. I think that’s so the elves and orcs don’t bother each other.-

-So you want to go explore the parts we’re forbidden from, even though we both died trying to cross the sea when the Valar said we shouldn’t.-

-If it was forbidden, there’d be a wall; the door out of here just doesn’t let me near it. Besides, Namo said he’d take into account my repentance in trying to sail back when he decides when to let me out; I have to even things out with my brothers somehow.-

-Why exactly do things have to be even? Even your dad can’t call getting out of prison early disloyal.-

-No, but I don’t want to be the only member of the House of Feanor in Tirion for longer than I have to. They’ll make me decide thing in council meetings. They’ll make me attend council meetings in full, not leave as soon as Grandpa stops watching me.-

-Good point, I don’t want to lead House Fingolfin either. Let’s go find orcs.-

-Walk this way and think about being lonely, and every time you start to hear laughter turn aside. Then if we go down enough stairs, we’ll find the weird spot. Who knows, maybe we’ll even meet the orc who killed you.-

-I don’t want to talk to him!-

-Oh come on, I talk to my dad.-

-That’s different.-

-Fine, we’ll stick to orcs who didn’t kill you and somebody else killed or the first trip.-

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Elrond and the 'Star of Hope'

Thu, 22 Aug 2019 02:49:19 GMT

Guess what! It's feeling sad about Elrond time!
Specifically, Earendil's star is also called Gil-Estel, 'star of hope'
Because it was a sign that the Valar were actually paying attention to Middle Earth, and that you could leave Middle Earth, and it heralded their army coming, and he slew Ancalagon
But that's not how Elrond sees it
When the star first rose, he knew that his mother was very far away and wasn't coming back anytime soon
And then he learned that it was both his parents and they were never coming back
And if course the Silmaril is the thing that Maedhros and Maglor destroyed his town for, and later abandoned him for
So Elrond's association with Gil-Estel is 'a sign the people I love are gone forever'
People probably tell Elrond how nice it is that his father brings hope to so many people
He isn't going to ruin a good thing for everyone else, and gives a polite thank you.

Earendil knows he's a sign of hope and tries to shine brighter and longer when his kids are going through tough times

When Elros dies, Earendil shines brighter than the moon from the first moment the sky tints pink to the last blush of dawn leaving.
He wants to show that he cares, that he is paying attention, to remind Elrond that he's not alone
Elrond really wants to go hide in a cave.

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My monsters are real, and they're trained how to kill

Mon, 29 Jul 2019 13:54:38 GMT

Celebrimbor had thought he’d never see his family again after Nargothrond, but he was wrong.

It started after Doriath. Curufin told his son of his death in person. Caranthir and Celegorm had arrived less than day later. Amras and Amrod had appeared while Gil-Galad was frantically ordering everyone for the ships to Sirion. And it had been mere hours after the theft of the Silmarils when Maedhros had opened his eyes, said “No.”, and started walking north. Maedhros had returned though, they always did.

The ghosts don’t have to do what he says, but they do a lot of the time anyway. He’s their anchor in this world; if they aren’t paying attention they drift back to him. And when all six of them are there, sometimes he can feel, though still not hear, his grandfather. The ghosts can talk to each other, and when Celebrimbor is lucky they’ll entertain each other. When he’s not lucky he has six sources of ‘helpful’ advice on how to dress in the morning.

Celebrimbor is aware he’s gaining a poor reputation. People say he’s standoffish and bitter about what his family lost, that he resents Gil-Galad and Elrond. In reality it’s nearly impossible to focus on living people with his father whispering plans to take the throne. After Morgoth’s defeat he moves as far from the Sindar and other kings as possible. He doesn’t want to become more of a kinslayer than he is.

In time Celebrimbor learns to use it. He invites Maedhros to meetings with diplomats. He rehearses with Celegorm before speeches to the populace. He runs proposed trade deals past Caranthir. He asks Amras and Amrod how to design a city in the middle of grasslands, with emphasis on trade where they chose defense. He listens occasionally to Curufin’s advice in the forge.

The last time Celebrimbor had a moment truly alone was FA 510, when his father, Celegorm, and Caranthir tried to take the Silmaril from Elwing themselves.People say the Lord of Ost-in-Edhil is friendless and solitary, but they have no idea how wrong they are. The whispers in his ears seem like home by now.

People notice, of course. Celebrimbor glares over people’s shoulders at council meetings, seeming for all the world to ignore what’s going on until he catches the flaw in reasoning or financial pitfall they were about to steer the city into. There’s a chill in the air near him, and his bright eyes rarely look straight at yours. He always seems to know what rumors are being spread, though he rarely leaves the forge. But he’s a good smith, and kicking him out would cause the ex-Feanorians to riot.

Celebrimbor consults Maedhros and Curufin on how to slowly build power. He exchanges letters with the kings an lords of Middle Earth as an equal. After years of work, a letter comes form Amdir, all but ordering Celeborn to Lothlorien. Celebrimbor assures his cousin and her husband that of course he’ll look after the city, they’ve done so much for Ost-in-Edhil, they’re welcome to visit anytime. Galadriel had not been sure she would leave rather than wait a decade for Celeborn to straighten things out, but she find herself on the road.

Celebrimbor pays his taxes to Gil-Galad. He answers letters a hair too slow, and Ost-in-Edhil’s soldiers patrol only to the River Gwathlo. King Gil-Galad would look petty if he complained, but he stops sending all but the most critical orders. They wouldn’t be heeded anyway.

Celebrimbor walks around unarmed, and requires that all who meet him do the same. How he finds every dagger hidden in a boot is mysterious. So is how everyone important in the city can no longer speak against him, even in whispers, or they will answer for it before him the next day.

Celebrimbor toys with the idea of calling himself ‘king’. He wouldn’t need to displace Gil-Galad really, Finrod and Turgon were both kings under Fingolfin. But Maedhros says his position is still too weak, and there’s Numenor to consider as well. Their kings deal almost exclusively with Gil-Galad, not the landlocked Ost-in-Edhil. If Celebrimbor could get them to support him instead, he would be King indeed. It might take a century or two, with how long-lived the Numenoreans are for mortals, but it will come in time.

Leave your weapon on the table
Wrapped in burlap, barely able
Call a doctor, say a prayer
Choose a god you think is fair

‘Cause my monsters are real,
And they’re trained how to kill

- “Monsters” by Shinedown

Annatar promises knowledge, but that’s not why Celebrimbor listens to him so. It’s because when he’s with Annatar, there’s no one else in the room. The ghosts protest, but the Maia keeps them away without even seeming to notice. Celebrimbor wouldn’t have said he needed a breath of fresh air, but when offered he finds himself addicted.

Of course, Celebrimbor is in the habit to heeding the advice of half-heard voices by now. And as long as Annatar is on the council (when did he get a seat?), he can’t easily consult his kinsman for advice on running the city.

It’s probably fine. Ost-in-Edhil needed a better wall, better army, more consolidated power structure now that Celeborn is gone. And when Celebrimbor does see his uncles, the finances and engineering and politics are all sound. He delegates much of the city’s defense to Annatar - it’s not like Celebrimbor had done anything other than what Maedhros and Amras recommended anyway.

It’s relaxing in a way to have his chief advisor be someone who can answer questions for himself, without Celebrimbor relaying everything. All Annatar’s moves are making Ost-in-Edhil more powerful and more reliant on having a single strong leader. In the end, this benefits Celebrimbor.

Maedhros can’t come up with any specific criticisms to say of Annatar, besides a general uneasiness. Celebrimbor assumes he’s just jealous at being replaced as kingmaker.

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Gil-Galad son of Maeglin

Sat, 20 Jul 2019 02:53:38 GMT

He had inherited his father’s piercing stare. He had not inherited a name from his father, not yet. Maeglin said that names were earned, and that his son’s work in the forge was barely adequate. When the boy demonstrated a great talent or grand destiny, then he would be named. Much of Gondolin thought this tradition backwards, bordering on barbaric, but the boy did not complain of it and King Turgon allowed it. (Maeglin’s wife had died in an accident in the mines, while their child was barely more than an infant, before naming him.) So Maeglin’s son was unnamed. People took to calling him ‘royal child,’ which made who was being referred to clear enough.

The youth called Aranyon was worried. He knew that his father sometimes went beyond the boundaries of the city to mine, disobeying the King’s law. During these trips he was to keep the house neat, try to mprove his smithing, and deflect anyone who wondered where his father was. When Maeglin returned, he would drop his pack at the door and sleep for nearly a day straight. Then the two of them would sort through the ores and gems, and Maeglin would tell his son about the new caverns he had found, or ask him where he thought Maeglin had gone based on his knowledge of geology. This was the happiest he ever saw his father.

But this time had been different. Maeglin’s pack had been nearly empty, and he had been up so early the next morning that his son wondered if he had slept at all. What’s more he’d been frightened, turning to look every time a shadow moved as if it might conceal a lurking enemy. Nothing in Gondolin could cause such fear. But fear was not a crime, and even if it was he would have been reluctant to report his father.

Gondolin was burning, and Maeglin found his son.

“Go find her your Aunt Idril and bring her to the east foundry. We’ll be safe there.”

“How can you know that?”

“Never you mind that. Quickly, if orcs find you alone they will not recognize you.”

“But they’ll recognize you? Of course - who else leaves the city? Who else could have told Morgoth about its defenses, or indeed where it is?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, ” Maeglin denied

“Yes I do! You’ve been troubled ever since your last trip - was that when you sold us out, or merely when he let you know he’d be coming to collect? What was the price?”

“I have assurances of safety for myself, you, and Idril.”

“That’s all? You had that before you sold us out! I would have thought you’d strike a better bargain, perhaps lordship of the city, or chief of Angband’s mines. I never took you for a weak negotiator.”

Maeglin’s voice grew cold. “I don’t think anyone would be in the best mind for bargaining after a week of the Dark Vala’s sustained focus on getting answers. I’d say to try for yourself, but I would never wish this on you.”

“You could have warned King Turgon at any point in the last few months. Or told me to pack, if you thought I’d come.”

“I could not have. Lord Melkor is not so careless as to allow his servants to betray him.”

“You can speak now though - we can still save some people. If you share the Enemy’s plan of attack, we will know where to evacuate first, and may even be able to lay traps.”

“The commander of this army is cunning, and will change his plans as soon as he sees they are anticipated.”

“All the more reason to act quickly! Come on, I think I saw Uncle Turgon by the palace.”

“If I tell Turgon the truth, I will be targeted as a traitor by elf and orc alike - there is now only one path for me to survive this battle. You are suggesting sacrificing me, and your own safety, for a day or perhaps two before these people are destroyed. You’d give our lives so they can die five miles south of here instead? You are a fool.”

“Maybe that’s all I will accomplish, but I will not leave Gondolin for Angband - here at least I have seen green grass and an open sky.”

“Fine then. You will not persuade me to die fighting futilely. But you are grown, and if you wish to nobly burn to death, I will not keep you from that fate.”

Maeglin’s son bowed sarcastically to him. He said, “Thank you for allowing me to choose my own death, Eolion,” and left before Maeglin could respond.

Nearly two days later, the survivors of Gondolin had walked as far as even elves could without sleep. Tuor, the ostensible leader, had not fallen from his horse only because he and Earendil had been tied to the saddle. Idril called a halt.

Idril found her nephew with the remnants of the House of the Mole, though even there he stayed apart.

“How are you holding up?” It was a trivial question, but she couldn’t think of any better.

“He named me.”

“Maeglin did?”

“He always said he’d name me when I had found a great destiny. His last words to me were that I was choosing my fate.”

“What did you choose?”

“According to him, burning and dying nobly and futilely. He didn’t expect anyone to survive the battle unless they submitted to the Enemy.”

Idril wasn’t sure what to do with that second statement. “Artanaro could make a good name, or at least better that Qualarta or Alennaqual.”

“Rodnor.”

“Rodnor? Oh right, the Sindarin. Rodnor would be a fine name, if you choose to keep it. ”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Idril paused as she tried to think of a tactful way to say this. “No one would think less of you if you chose to remember Maeglin as he was rather than as he became.”

“Because they want to believe he was irredeemable, that the taint of Eol and Nan Elmoth finally showed through.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then, your majesty?”

“I meant that he hurt and killed a lot of people, but that it wasn’t some taint bleeding through. He wasn’t putting an act on during your childhood, or his own youth. His end doesn’t erase his beginning, though I won’t claim his beginning excuses his end either.”

“That’s a pretty speech. How long have you been practicing it?”

“I didn’t practice it, but I admit some it has been in my head for years. My father and I did not understand Maeglin when he arrived as well as we thought we did. ”

“So now your husband has killed my father, and you want to watch me closely to make sure I don’t fall into the same path he did.”

“Will you stop putting words in my mouth? I don’t think we should force people to grieve alone just because the one they grieve harmed others. That is all I meant by the comparison.”

Aranyon nodded. “I’m not grieving alone. I have his friends and colleagues with me.”

“I’m glad.”

“If not Rodnor, what name should I take? I’ve outgrown ‘royal child’, and ‘Maeglinion’ will gain me few friends.”

“I never said you shouldn’t be Rodnor, only that you needn’t be if the name brought bad memories.”

“It doesn’t for me, but it might for others. A name without my father would be useful.”

“You can choose a kilmesse, or ask friends for an epesse, or we can try and figure out what your amilesse would be.”

“I don’t have an amilesse, my mother died before giving me one.”

“I think that was mostly to please Maeglin. She certainly noticed your personality, and loved you for it.”

“She did? Even though she went right back to doing dangerous tasks the moment I was weaned?”

“It was her calling. Might as well ask Maeglin to stop smithing and become a dancer as ask her to stay safe. She did it for you, and she didn’t regret it, but she wouldn’t stay away forever.”

“What would she have named me then?”

“She talked about how you would light up her world. Not like the moon or sun, that appear and disappear. But that she could always look, and there you would be, constant as the north star. A bright spot even when times were difficult - those of us who crossed the Helcaraxe have a lot of gratitude toward the stars for that.”

“And what in all of that is supposed to be a name?”

“Dear star, or Light of my heart, or Starlight would all be reasonable. If she had lived, she would have chosen one of those for you.”

“If she had named me in secret, or somehow survived the destruction of the city as so few did.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t have done it behind your father’s back. She would have told Maeglin that you were twelve, and by all traditions old enough to have a name, and you would get your mother-name at thirteen regardless of what he did. And then at thirteen you’d be Star-something.”

He looked out at the night sky. “Would Gil-Galad work?”

“I expect she would have named you in Quenya, but you might as well use the Sindarin. We’re outside of Gondolin, and we should obey King Thingol’s ban.”

“Gil-Galad Rodnor Ereinion.” He said the words carefully, listening to each syllable. “I think it suits me.”

“I’m glad. Try to get some sleep rather than staring at your new namesakes all night, alright?”

“Alright.”

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Penance for the Unrepentant - Righteous Side of Hell

Thu, 11 Jul 2019 23:55:38 GMT

Celegorm is exiled from Valinor again, and the Third Age is going to be interesting. Sure, he’s supposed to make amends, but that’s got to be less boring than waiting around in Mandos.
Elrond would rather Celegorm had stayed bored.
Read it on Ao3!

I am extremely proud of this series title - as far as I can tell no one else has used it as a lyric/title!

This is going to be a series of vignettes as various people encounter a supposedly-dead kinslayer. This one is Celegorm at max politeness, he's going to be a more deliberate shit stirrer with everyone else.

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Maglor and the Silmaril

Mon, 08 Jul 2019 03:06:35 GMT

cw for mention of fictional character's canon suicide under the cut

We talk about why Maedhros jumped, but we don’t talk about why Maglor didn’t.

They both were burned by the Silmarils, they both have evidence they’re irredeemably evil.
The difference is that Maedhros is surprised.
Maglor accepted that the he would do evil things for the sake of the Silmarils centuries ago. Its why even though he advocated against attacking Doriath and the camp of the Valar, he went along - in for a penny in for a pound.
Alqualonde they were mistaken, and driven by their desire for vengeance as much as the Oath. Maglor still realized what they Oath would drive them to long before Sirion, or Doriath, or the Nirnaeth, or hearing of his brothers in Nargothrond.
It was when a messenger came to him out of Angband. His people would be allowed to live in peace, and his brother would be returned unharmed, if they would just retreat from Morgoth without the Silmarils.

Maglor condemned his brother to torture, and his people to an unwinnable war, for the mere possibility of retrieving the Silmarils. He knew it was evil.

He is expecting the Silmaril to burn him, and it does.

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Welcome to the Woodland Realm: No Noldor allowed

Mon, 01 Jul 2019 03:27:35 GMT

Three generations of Greenwood|Mirkwood royalty and their feelings about Noldor. Oropher, Thranduil, and Legolas all have different perspectives.

Oropher

Oropher is from Doriath. He remembers King Elu Thingol and Queen Melian. All Beleriand was under Sindarin rule. Menegroth was the most beautiful city ever built, and the whole of Doriath was peaceful and bountiful.

Then the Noldor came, and lied about their massacre of Teleri, and drew Morgoth’s attention - and orcs - to the very border of Doriath. The Noldor claimed to acknowledge King Thingol, but had no respect for his authority. King Thingol was murdered by dwarves over a Noldorin jewel. King Dior, who was just starting to grow into his authority, was personally killed by Noldor, as were two of his children, barely out of infancy. The Noldor extinguished Doriath itself, driving away people who had been just starting to rebuild. The Sindar tried again in Sirion, but they had barely taken a breath when the Noldor attacked again, burned the city, drove the queen away forever, and kidnapped the princes.

Some of the Noldor stay in Endore rather than returning to Tirion. The Valar have permitted it, and Oropher is too pious to question them. He will not accept rule of his people by usurping murderers though. The Sindar have already crossed one mountain range to find safe ground as the continent fell away, they will cross another to build a new homeland independent of Lindon.

The Noldor are at least marginally better than Sauron, so Oropher leads his people to battle. Gil-Galad may not have any blood on his hands personally, but he comes from the same lying, murderous, traitorous stock. He orders Oropher around as if he were his vassal, despite the kingdoms being sovereign (and that if any allegiance lay, it ought properly be Noldor kneeling to Sindar).

Oropher will not obey the upstart. He will direct his army as he sees fit.

Thranduil

Thranduil was born in Doriath, but remembers it little. He only remembers hiding, and isn’t sure if it was from dwarves or Noldor. He knows his earliest memory, and only memory of what ought to be his home, is of fear and confusion and blood, and that he would have far better memories of Doriath if it weren’t for the Noldor.

Thranduil helped his father build a new kingdom, strong and independent and glorious, and ally themselves with the Silvans instead of the Noldor. He knows that not all Noldor are terrifying murderers, but a lot of them are. You can just about trust a Noldo after you’ve known that elf in particular for six centuries or so, but you can never trust them as judges of character because they continue friendships with kinslayers.

Diplomatic contact over the centuries establish cordiality at least with Gil-Galad and Elrond. Lord Celeborn’s wife is the only Noldo with the decency to denounce her murderous kindred, and therefore the only Noldo allowed in Woodland Realm without an armed guard watching her.

The fact that a Noldo willingly worked with Sauron is something Thranduil feels he should have expected. He supposes that it wasn’t all Celebrimbor’s fault; after spending that many years surrounded by people who have dabbled in evil you likely start to ignore the miasma.

Oropher leads his people to battle and dies. Everyone is very comforting and polite to Thranduil’s face, but he still hears what they say behind his back. If Oropher had been nice and obedient to the Noldo king, the battle wouldn’t have gone so poorly. Some people blame Oropher not only for his own death, but at times for his soldiers’, or even Gil-Galad’s. Things would go so much better if the Sindar remembered that they’ll never be as good as Calaquendi.

Thanduil is not surprised when the rings are distributed and he is not offered one. He wouldn’t actually take it of course, the product of a kinslayer, the son of one who sacked Doriath, working with a servant of the Dark Foe. But he finds it telling that the Noldor keep their works to themselves, giving no aid to Sindar. They let Cirdan use one, but he’s always gazed West and is in love with Valinor as much as any Amanyar. Thranduil, king of one of the largest kingdoms of elves in Middle Earth, full of people who have never left it, is not trusted by the Noldor colonizers.

When the Necromancer attacks the south of the Greenwood, and conquers even the capital Amon Lanc, Thranduil moves his people north. He alerts the other elven Kingdoms as well, and requests aid, but he doesn’t count on it. This proves to be a good thing, as it takes a millennium for one of the Maiar to deign to help out, and even then the Necromancer returns after a few centuries.

Thranduil sends a representative to the White Council as he can, but does not attend himself. They never hold it in the Woodland Realm and he doesn’t have a fancy ring he can use to keep his kingdom magically safe from the evil wizard on his fricking doorstep while he wanders all over Middle Earth.

Elrond is still a trusted ally though, and when his foster son asks for Thranduil’s aid imprisoning a twisted creature, he grants so. When the prisoner escapes, he sends his own son to carry the message to Rivendell.

Legolas

Legolas grew up hearing tales of the greatness of Doriath, and its destruction by kinslayers. He also grew up hearing the story of Grandpa Oropher’s death. Oropher ignored people with more battlefield experience, and got himself and most of his army killed.

Look, different peoples of elves have different talents. Silvans are the best for trees and forests and growing things. Falathrim are the best for sailing and shipbuilding. Sindar are best for singing and archery. Noldor are best at war - their history proves it. When Lord Elrond says that Sauron cannot be fought off directly, that’s an expert talking. (Elrond spent millennia with the High king of the Noldor, it’s little surprise that side of his heritage won out.)

Legolas has quite conveniently, and entirely subconsciously, managed to sort Noldor in his mind into two camps. There’s our neighbors, the good ones, who stand against darkness and evil and have for the most part lived in Middle earth their whole lives, so it’s their homeland as much as his. And there’s the bad ones, kinslayers, especially the Feanorians, who invaded our land and killed our ancestors and dealt with Morgoth and Sauron, betraying even their own people (the traitor of Gondolin was half-Noldo), but are fortunately mostly dead by now. (The elves of Lindon, who Legolas laments, mostly to have fell in the first group.)

Current politics is at least as much about tension between groups now as old history. The Grey Havens feel no one remembers them except when they want to leave the world entirely. Imlardis advocates keeping in touch with the short-lived peoples so they can get word of dangers before they come nearby, while Thrnaduil feels Elrond is content to let his realm become a roadside attraction for mortals. Lothlorien is able to maintain perfect peace and happiness within it’s borders, showing no strain but still offering little aid. The Woodland Realm has had giant spiders and a lurking menace in the south to deal with for nearly Legolas’s entire lifetime. Knowing with which of these four realms an elf lays their allegiance will tell you a lot more than if their parents were Noldor or Sindar or Silvan.

So when the council of Elrond happens, Legolas hardly notices there’s barely any Sindar in the room - he wasn’t expecting anymore of his people than those who traveled with him. He is pleased to be selected for the Fellowship, and sees no reason to object to its leadership going to those who have traveled farther outside the Greenwood.

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