Celebrimbor o Eregion teithant i thiw hin.

I've never been a creative person in my life (except for the occasional oc writing) and in the span of five months I've picked up drawing, sewing, and embroidery.

for context. I thrifted a jacket suspiciously similar to one Annatar wore in a @atane-is-here fanart from last year. And, since I already own a copious amount of eye-shaped jewellery I thought, why not practice sewing and make a complete outfit?

I never really sewed clothes from scratch. I can mend clothes just fine, but that's it. Found a simple enough pattern for slit pants, found some old white curtains, and got to work.

and it was going well. What if sewing was my hidden talent all along, this is not as atrocious as expected. just in time to commit acts of hubris, in true Sauron-adjacent fashion.

long story short I start chatting with my grandma, who is doing her own thing on the other side of the room, I half turn around to look at her, I put my finger under the needle, said needle pierces all the way through it.

my sewing machine can act the part more than I ever will, it seems.

since she's evil and loves to hurt people.

Modern Au of the house of feanor are investigating the sudden and unexplained disparition of maglor .

At first , They think he is having a mental health crisis and actively in psychosis , disconnected with reality .

But the more they dig into the case , and the infos Maglor left behind in the different places he conducted his research in , the more it start to make sense .

And the disjointed part of stories and tales of elves and kings start sounding like déjà vu .

Of course, as readers of the Silmarillion we all know how pivotal of a figure he will eventually be, and are presented with all of these isolated incidents of his existence in the Silmarillion and histories as clearly marked narrative events. We know that Thu is Sauron, that Mairon is Sauron, that the Necromancer and Annatar and Zigur are all different names and faces for the same perceptive bit of fire. But those that experience those thousands and thousands of years of history, they don't. Sauron was not just not a household name, he as a concept did not exist. The people of first age Beleriand knew of ten dozen insidious servants of Morgoth, spirits of malice, influences on their lives. They knew of the terrible sorcerer who terrorized the lands with his vicious wolves. They knew of the dread regent who once kept rule in Angband as it rotted beneath the ground, waiting for Melkor to return. They know of the fiery soldier they saw in the battle under stars, decimating their troops before they had barely set foot on mortal soil. They knew of the trickster spirit who took the forms of their dead loved ones, played out the facade for far longer than necessary to extract any amount of ransom. They knew, vaguely, of an old tale of Aule's greatest Maia, gone wayward and disappeared with the Dark Lord. Some escaping Angband might know of a certain beautiful man who attends the lord's side, lithe and lovely, or a torturer of Maedhros, purveyor of many cruel experiments. But rarely, if ever, were even two of these faces correlated. There were many forms of evil, to them, and only so many of these small evils could possibly survive after his death.

To learn, for the elves when he finally put that damn ring on for the first time, that not only have you been fooled once, that your lovely Annatar was a servant of Morgoth, but that he was all of them.

MF I HATE ANNATAR SO MUCH WHY IS IT ABOUT HIM THATS SO HARD TO DRAW EVERY TIME I DRAW HIM I END UP HATING HOW HE TURNS OUT—-

Being unable to find peace in your own skin, in your own home. Being drawn against your will further and further away. The agonising call of the lands beyond the ocean, carried like a parasitic song in the gulls and sandpipers.

A distant echo never leaving your mind

There is such a visceral horror already to me in the elves of Beleriand and Middle Earth who never wished to come to Valinor, who die whether through misfortune or violence, and who return to life only to be separated forever from their home.

For Elrond it means coming to terms with his brother’s mortality at a pace much too fast for him. It means not having the same things in common anymore. He can’t relate to Elros becoming a husband and father. He can’t relate to Elros’ jokes about slowing metabolism, or aching bones and his not being able to run as fast as Elrond. He can’t relate to all of these adult things that are now part of his life. It also means confronting the fact he himself will age one day, that he won’t remain a child forever. Elrond has always sought love and protection through his being a child. He’s afraid of what will happen when all of these new relationships he’s made since the war of wrath, stop seeing him as a pitiful little boy in need of affection. He’s afraid of being alone and undefended in a way he hasn’t been since he was briefly separated from Elros during the 3rd Kinslaying. The more Elros ages the more prominent that fear becomes.

For Elros, it means much the same. He can’t relate to Elrond’s teenage mind as much as he used to and he’s constantly absorbed by how young his brother is. It’s a strange thing to look at his twin and realise that he was that young once, that he was that vulnerable, that all the devastation and trauma of his childhood happened before his voice even deepened. And his brother is still that young, he is still that vulnerable and Elros is leaving him. He’s feeling increasingly guilty about how young his brother will be when he dies. He doesn’t regret his choice, but when he made it he thought that when he’d leave the world, he and Elrond would both be happy, would both have made new lives for themselves. Now he’s faced with the fact that he won’t know how Elrond will turn out after he goes, he doesn’t know if he’ll be leaving this young boy all alone in the world, susceptible to even more pain, violence and suffering and the thought terrifies him. He curses Maglor for his wretched love and selfish abandonment even more and tries to fashion himself into some sort of guiding parental figure but it just upsets both of them.