resident weather enjoyer

And he also immediately caves if he likes you

"NO ONE CAN COME INTO DORIATH except if they really really really need my help"

"Go away, kinslayers! No, not forever, I'm just mad right now. You're family and I would never cut ties with you 🥺 Actually none of this is your fault, and Fingolfin's people have also been through enough I'm so sorry for 2/3 of the Noldor actually"

"This trial is over, Beleg." "Pretty please? 🥺" "Okay but only because it's you 🥺"

My point being, there's a crack version of Leithian that ends in:

Mandos: No, you may not have your boyfriend back.

Luthien, who has always had everything she wants and has never been told no in her life: If you don't give my boyfriend back I'm going to cry

“Put away thy light words, my child, and say has this wild Elf of the shadows sought to do thee any harm?”

Maedhros: has fed everyone since he was old enough to reach the counter. Always cleans up afterward. 10/10.

Maglor: decent but whenever he accidentally curdles the cream he sighs, “thus are all fair things marred,” and starts composing lyrics about the sundering of the Noldor from Valinor. 8/10.

Celegorm: comes in, drops a skinned whole deer on the table, and leaves (Aredhel is equally guilty of this btw). Knows zero (0) vegetarian recipes. 2/10.

Caranthir: usually quite competent but once lost his temper at the twins and screamed, "if Father returned from the Halls of Mandos and saw what you'd done with the stew, he'd immolate again but on purpose this time." Hard to live that down. 6/10.

Curufin: bakes elaborate pastries even though baking is "usually reserved for women." Occupies half the cupboards with his precision instruments for measuring flour. I made art of this at some point in my life. 9/10.

"cap off my attire" can't stand him

So here I give to you:

Maglor's 'The Raven '

Like maybe, when the Shire was being settled a group of Hobbits continued westward just to scope out how safe their land would be, and happen upon the shores enjoying the sound of distant singing. They set up camp and unfortunately didn't realize the tide was coming in until it was too late and are all scrambling and crying out for help as one of their party gets washed away to sea.

Maglor, who was nearby but didn't notice these tiny sneaks until the screaming started, rushes up and in a panic and sees what he thinks are a group of children (with pointed ears, he can't see their large feet under the water and sand, and thinks they're Elven) alone and Drowning and thinks "not again" and dives in to save them

Which he does, but he's had 4 thousand years of malnutrition, lack of care for his body and mind, and has his wounded hand that is black and scarred, which he had to use to pull these young ones to shore. Once everyone is saved he collapses to the ground, exhausted and unconscious.

The Hobbits, of course, can't just let their savior stay on the beach like this where he could also drown or be swept off to sea, and they MUST thank him for the life debt, so they carry him to their pony cart and head back to the Shire where they can give him a proper thank you

Maglor is out cold for weeks though, long enough to be brought back to the Shire and situated in one of the guest rooms in the newly built Great Smial of the Took Clan. They clean him, bandage and heal his wounds, put him in some hastily made Tall Folk clothes made out of bedsheets, and wait for him to wake.

When he does, he's in a panic and then confused, for he's never seen hobbits before, and under the fear and dread he's a little amused. All throughout the First and Second ages he's managed to avoid others and has never been kidnapped, yet here he is, at the mercy of folk that look like children.

Some things get lost in translation between Hobbitish, Westeron, and Sindarin, and Maglor thinks that he's now a prisoner to these small people, and the Hobbits think that they are going to care for him and have him be a guest of theirs for as long as he likes. Maglor, who hasnt had great mental health for the past 2 ages, agrees to be their prisoner, for honestly, he believes he deserves it.

So he heals, and once he heals (minus the blackened hand which gets medicated and wrapped and secured under a leather glove which reminds him of his eldest brother and he grieves) they put him to work. Or well, they allow him to help in their gardens, to sing songs of the sun, of joy and family and all things Hobbit. They let him help in the kitchen, where he shares recipes long since lost to the sands of time, and he helps them build a forge and how to do basic metal working, for even if his craft is one of voice and song, he is still his father's son and a Prince of the Noldor- he knows how to use a forge.

And time moves on. They build him his own smial, one that suits his height, and Maglor heals, both in mind and in body, and he goes from not wanting to escape his captors because he deserves enslavement to finding a second family amongst these folk. He gets adopted into the Took Clan, and the Hobbits all affectionately call him "Old Maggie Took" or "Songbird" or if his singing is particularly a little to loud a little too early in the morning "that damned Rooster"

He helped protect the Hobbits, weaving Songs of illusion around their home, fighting Goblins and Orcs off with Bandobras Took, making daggers and leather gear for Belladonna Took as she travels the world, and trying his best to fight off the wolves during the Fell Winter. Not as many Hobbits die to fang and claw that winter, but they did to cold and starvation and sickness.

After Belladonna and her husband died that winter, her young son Bilbo often spent time with him (mostly to escape the well wishers and their looks of pity) and so Maglor taught him things to keep his mind from loss. Taught him Quenya, and Sindarin, all about the Noldor, about Elves and Men of old, what little he knew of Dwarves from Maedhros and Caranthir, and when Bilbo asks in a quite voice, how it feels to be the only one of his family members left

He, and the whole of the Shire really, also play a very fun game of Keep Away with Gandalf whenever he visits, and while he knows Something Is Up with the Shire, he never found out about Maglor (even though he has heard about Maggie Took, and all her apparent namesakes)

While Maglor wasn't there to see Bilbo off on his own adventure he was able to make sure that when he came home it was to a home at all, even if some silverware did go missing. And when he sensed something fowl lingering in Bagend after his return, Maglor just brushed it off as something tainted from a dragon horde (later he weeps for how wrong he was and all the lives lost that he could have prevented if he investigated more)

And when Bilbo goes off to Rivendell, old and grey, all those years later guided by his dwarves, he has a silent, nervous, elven companion with him.

Blue wizards? Check.

Silmaril? Yup, sitting in that one mathom house.

Palantir? Got a couple of ‘em in the garden out back, they look pretty on their little stands.

"What are you two doing here??? I thought you went East??!"

"Well, we did, then we found these delightful little people and went back west with them"

"So you've been here for 4 thousand years??? Why didn't you say anything??? We could have used your help!"

"Well, we thought we were helping? Keeping this little pocket of paradise safe. You won't believe the amount of things that pop up here, have you seen their mathom museum??? They needed us and its not like you ever asked to speak with us either. We lived with the Brandybucks, its not like we were hiding."

"They needed you?? What on Arda could the peaceful folk of the Shire need with Two of Estë's Maiar for???"

They show him the two palinter that were thought to be lost the northern sea, a fallen star that suspiciously shines with the light of the Two Trees, a helm that has a dragon figure down the middle, a sword as black as night that makes the very air around it feel cursed, and a few Dwarven Rings Of Power

"Is that it! Have these good people been hiding anything else of value that has been lost that I should know about??"

Maglor just sheepishly waves his burnt hand and Gandalf just

As in

This character:

Ciri.

In this trailer:

thank you for the tags @ecofutural + @ladysterndust <333

my latest wip, though I should be working on other things, is a Helcaraxe horror/cannibalism fic for tolkien horror week, because why would I work on my longfic when I can instead write for something that is months away! here is a little of that!

It is easy enough to decline out of righteousness; to mourn the corpse and think not of its meat in your belly; think not of the swift way it slides down your throat, nor the way it calms that singeing thunder, the kind that has no rest, nor mediation—just goes and goes and goes until you feel your heart begin to patter and slow. It is easy; and then it is not. For who can say they would turn their cheek when they smell meat on the fire, burning flesh that turns from the scent of pyre to the that of supper. Not when you hunger, not when you are insatiable. Never. It is easy in the beginning to look away, and then your belly sends you crawling towards the cooked meat that you will say is not your friend, it has no name, it has no history, it is not flesh and skin and bone of anything. It is food. So, they ate. Galadriel ate. Turgon ate. Fingon ate. Fingolfin, though he lasted longer than the others, ate, devoured, stuffed his belly like he used to as a wild, royal child.

Disinfect

Feanaro is cleaning Telufinwë’s injuries after he almost died at the burning of the ships in Losgar. Outside, Pityafinwë braves the windy night to guard Telvo’s tent.

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Art for the story “If we’re strong enough to let it in, we’re strong enough to let it go” by @dialux for the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2021! (@tolkienrsb)