#laurelote

And please forgive me for those mistakes in the text above; English is not my native language, and I am trying to get better at it!

hello!!! thanks so much for checking in! first off, you are too kind ( ;´ - `;) it's always humbling to hear people are still enjoying the stuff i put out even though ive been so inconsistent on tumblr these past few years. thank you for enjoying my work and for sticking along all this time!! i hope i wont disappoint and as long as im able, ill keep drawing these funny little elves ^^

i was especially shocked when i got your ask because you mentioned some characters i havent thought about in many many years... my tolkien ocs!!! you can imagine my surprise at seeing them in-ask, because im the most guilty of neglecting them. For context, my doodles on Maglor's wife and their hypothetical children can be found here and here. tldr: years ago, i had a what-if where Maglor married a Vanya woman, had many tensions with Feanor bc of it, and his wife only found out she was pregnant (with twins!!) a week before the Noldor exile and didn't follow Maglor on the Journey.

to answer your question, the reason i didnt include Marilde or their children in my recent updated family tree is because i figured she wasn't relevant hahaha. i wasnt content with a lot of things about my first family tree from 2022, where i unintentionally presented some of my HCs as 'fact' which was likely quite confusing!! so i figured that while i could label some of the other noncanon relations accordingly (e.g. rumil to miriel, glorfindel to elenwe, caranthir to haleth), i would just save space by not including maglor's family as it was completely oc-based 🙂‍↕️

i dont have any particularly strong feelings about Marilde, Lindion and Laurelote since i see them more as concepts than actual characters, so it's not to say that ive changed my mind on them or anything! its a bit confusing to explain but in my mind Maglor always switches between being married, estranged or single, depending on which the narrative calls for more :D however, your very kind words about them inspired me to brush the dust off for a bit, so i started doodling them again bc its been what.... 4 years? 3 years? since i last drew em yippee!

ill drop them here as a sketch dump abt maglor's married life pre/post exile but in continuing with my usual stuff, it might be a while til i next do anything oc-related just bc i alwways feel a bit sheepish abt sharing ocs n stuff

she likes physical touch and while he does as well, he is also probably the most bashful when it comes to romance. he may sing lots of songs abt love and longing but i love to think he's actually the most shy about actually experiencing it ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

this an unserious answer to the what-if scenario of Maglor reuniting with his wife and children post-War of the Ring :D maybe he did so about a week after returning bc he had to psyche himself up + nerdanel nagged him nonstop... long story short, i cant imagine his family back home would be able to accept him so smoothly, even if they are happy to have him back safe. marilde would probably need to get to know him all over again, and at least one of his kids is fully hell-bent on making it known how much he dislikes him !!

and this final doodle is to respond to the anon screenshotted above!! they actually sent that ask a few years back and i just didn't have the right opportunity or thoughts to answer then- many apologies for that ^^;; thank you for your kind words - you have no idea how flattered i was to receive your ask out of the blue when i'd been neglecting my silm ocs for so long OTL

@laurelote​     :      ‘ and when were you going to tell me? ’

        ‘    truth be told,    i had no intention of telling you, mellon.     ’       he very much couldn’t even admit it himself,     especially not to her.     his intention was to end the conversation where it was,     but he could feel the elf towering over him,    trailing along behind him.

‘     what do you want me to say?     ’      he questioned,    coming to a pause along the path.     ‘      admit it?                               i think not.      ’

                                        @laurelote​:                       [ surprise ] !!! for your muse to show up at  mine’s house without explanation

To most it would resemble staring into the sun, beholding the reborn surrounded by so many tales pregnant with praise.    So fair is he.    But to the elvenking it is more akin to laying eye upon a ghost, phantom of long gone times.    Never forgotten by Thranduil, yet pushed into the darkest corner of his mind ---- for he has last seen those radiant eyes and this golden crown ere the third age had been born.    Since Glorfindel’s arrival at the threshold of the palace gates, Thranduil’s marble mien has not softened.    Unable to tell how this unforeseen reunion ought to feel for him, at least yet, is he entirely the monarch who demands reason for a guest’s or trespasser’s presence here.    Little does he know of the true Glorfindel behind all songs sang, so briefly crossing paths with him during preparations of battle, somewhere between Gil-Galad’s forces and Oropher’s splitting off armies.

❝ I am certain you have not come for purposes purely nostalgic in nature ❞,  monotonous speech veils the chaos raging behind fair countenance, of whether to be glad or want this living reminder of most horrid days gone.    ❝ And I would prefer we get this over with swiftly.❞

@laurelote​ sent : glorf is 7’7”

GALADRIEL OBJECTS TO THIS.

        The pale wraith floating in between the darkened copses has become a common sight to the trees and the creatures that dwell among them. Long have the heavy boughs heard her sighs, long have the doe and her fawn heard the hushed nature of her cries, long has the moss beneath her bare feet been watered by her iridescent tears. She expects to be alone; she even welcomes the solitude, for being alone means an absence of pain and of those whom she has long since fled. 

But that night, it seems that she is not alone. A fatal curiosity at this breach in routine urges her closer, and as she creeps towards the source from the shadows, she pauses just outside of the light. His light. Even though the sun has rested, the moon taking her place, he radiates her fire. However, there is a grief to him, too. She can see it in his furrowed brow, in the way he glances downward and sighs, shoulders falling.

She knows better than to offer comfort where it is not welcomed. Her mother’s race has done little to earn her trust, and why should they? All they know of her is her parentage and what fleeting glimpses they have seen of her in battle. 

They do not know how she hungers for companionship.