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Nolvo draft.

Even for the Eldar, growing up is not always a joy to endear.

He is the hope itself that beckons people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men to still march forward during the darkest time.

My brave little prince, died before the Sun rose.🥲

the second son of Fëanor, "was mighty among the singers of old, named only after Daeron of Doriath. " Yet tided to the Oath, from Alqualondë to the War of Wrath, he is the one chosen by fate to witness every loss of his siblings.

"Glorfindel joined Ecthelion at the ship's rail, leaning against it at a carefully considered distance. Not as close as he wished to stand–that would be too close for propriety, and possibly for Ecthelion, after all those years apart–but close enough for private conversation. Now all he needed was an opening line. Unfortunately, his mind was a tangled mess, full of odd contrasts: of the comforts of the ship as compared to the hardship of his first journey east; of the terrifying unknowns he had faced then, and the unknown unknowns he might face now; of the way he had once romanticised battle and deadly peril, and of his current awareness of their cost.  He longed to share all that confusion, to hear Ecthelion's own thoughts, which surely had to be running along similar lines–and yet… And yet, another contrast he was very much aware of was the one between all the pictures he had, over the years, painted of Ecthelion, and the real person now peering at him questioningly, whose brows were lifted in a way Glorfindel had never thought to portray. The contrast between memory and reality, which surely ran more than skin deep. He knew he would be reconciled to it, in time, but for now he felt paralysed, voiceless as one of his own paintings."

Born to be a great leader like his uncle, yet perished in the flames.

Lord of Thargelion. Known as the harshest and the quickest to anger among his siblings, yet also with the best business mindset.

He's never known for his diplomacy or kindness. Because he doesn't need them. He is Tyelkormo Turcafinwë, Lord of Himlad, the third son of Fëanor, and one of his father's sharpest teeth.

Turgon of Gondolin.

Glorfindel & Ecthelion in the war room.

Glorthelion's first meet in Tirion (on the way to Turukáno's place).

Okay so this is one of my (dark?) fluffy glorthelion headcanon... The story starts with Ecthelion being found reembodied and sent back to the shore of Middle Earth at the end of the Second Age. Everything looks fine after he wakes up in Imladris except he forgets he was a lord and turns back to the shy elfling with a social anxiety disorder. He's nervous around everyone except Glorfindel......(but of course he also forgets they were lovers but finds a strange sense of safety in Glorfindel's embrace.)🙈🙈

P.S. Thanks for all the follows, likes, comments, and shares of my last blog 🥰🫶! Luv u all <3

After reading the amazing fic "Sparring" on my bday (yes I'm the same birthday girl in the comment lol), I just couldn't stop imagining their first night on the ship & how great it would feel again to be able to snuggle together after centuries separation😍! So I just have to draw it down (*chuckles again*)