#lithmael

Lithmael has a strict set of principles and holds strong opinions when it comes to smithcraft. To her, weapons are to be used to fend for the weak or protect loved ones, not simply to be carried as mere status symbols or for ceremonies. To her, that is what makes jewel-smithing so abhorrent - she views it as a vain pursuit for nothing more than greed, to create pretty trinkets and little else.

She believes that when a bladesmith crafts a warrior their weapon they are obligated to use that weapon for the greater good, to fight against forces that would harm those that cannot defend themselves. Furthermore, she expects that any deed done by that blade should also earn its creator renown, not just the hero who wielded it. She can, however, understand people who hold onto swords and such as heirlooms or as objects of sentimental value, like she has with Anguirel.

Lithmael is not fond of blades that are overly and needlessly intricate in their designs or adorned with jewels. She views it as garish and unnecessary and the added weight of the gems would alter the balance of the weapon for no practical reason, if only ever so slightly.

Her craftsmanships has a simple but elegant look to them, decorated with detailed carvings rather than jewels. Her blades often have cutouts in them, or negative spaces in the shape of holes, that adds to their unembellished beauty. You can see a lot of her influence in the weaponry of the Mirkwood Elves during the Third Age.

Lithmael stayed for a while in the Woodland Realm after the end of the War of the Ring, until the light of the new age made her feel ill at ease at most Elven homes left in Middle-earth. She left with many an Elf of Eryn Lasgalen to Ithilien, in hope of finding a new homeland after the Woodland Realm had grown too bright for her liking, and resided for a short time in the Tawar-in-Drúadain as it was a dense forest whose many pine trees shielded her from the rays of the Sun somewhat. Still, her hands grew restless without her forge and anvil, her heart empty without the smell of smoke or the sound of hammer on steel, and she still yearned to create; so she left the forest travelling eastwards by the year 108 Fo.A. She did not stop until she reached the lands of Rhûn and finally reconnected with her fellow Avari there who had stayed by the Eastlands ever since the First Sundering of the Elves.

There, inspired by her time in Gondolin, she established the House of the Anvil whose goal was to educate her Avarin kin to the East in the arts of forging and mining, even teaching them how to forge galvorn. And thus it came to pass that the Mornedhil were the only ones who by the Fourth Age had the knowledge and skill of the lost art of Eöl; of crafting and forging with that black metal of greath strength and malleability.

Many of Lithmael’s fondest memories are from the First Age, especially from her youth in Nan Elmoth where she feels she found her true purpose in life by having her talents recognized by Eöl when he began his tutelage of her. She was also very fond of and loyal to a fault to his son Maeglin, who she followed and served during her time in Gondolin, aiding the House of the Mole through her craftsmanships and, on occasion, joining some of its membership on their excavations to the Mines of Anghabar.

That being said, she was for the most part discontent during her stay in the hidden kingdom, feeling underappreciated and condescended to by the Noldor due to her nature as one of the Avari. She is especially resentful her contributions during the Fall of Gondolin have been entirely overlooked by the annals of history, having forged many a weapon and shield that was wielded that fateful day. Lithmael herself did not fight during the battle, being a craftsperson more than a warrior, and escaped through Idril’s Hidden Path with the other refugees.

For the rest of the age, she was mostly a restless nomad like her kin before her, moving eastwards and eventually settling for a time near Fangorn Forest. The last big event of the First Age that directly impacted her was the Sinking of Beleriand, whereupon she lost her parents who were still residing there when it was plunged into the sea. For as many tragedies that befell during that time, she still remembers the First Age fondly due to it being when she found her calling. Elrandir’s experiences during the First Age is, comparatively, uneventful save for one especially harrowing incident. I would say most of what define him and his life occurred during the Second and Third Ages rather than the First (such as his first interactions with Fallohides, gaining and later renouncing his lordship of Edhellond, his journeys to Rivendell, losing contact with his sister etc.). He had a comfortable and carefree, even somewhat spoiled life at Doriath due to his kinship to King Thingol. He grew early a love of travel due to his father being one of the Falathrim who would often journey with his son between Eglarest, his home, and Doriath in order to visit kin.

Due to the secrecy surrounding the Lemberin tongue, Lithmael rarely sings when any non-Avari are around. She’s generally not much a singer anyways, being rather solitary and serious to a fault to begin with. That being said, she would on occasion sing lullabies to little Maeglin shortly after he was born, hoping he would pick up more of his father’s language and nature than his mother’s.* (Lithmael is not exactly fond of either Aredhel or the Noldor in general).

The one time she completely disregarded any belief she held regarding not only music, but the Noldor Elves as well was when she in Gondolin fell for a Noldorin elf-lord who was anything she was not: high-born, cheerful, open-minded and kind-hearted. She taught her noble love the Avarin tongue by singing it to him as she worked and he became the only one of the Eldar able to speak the language of the Avari. Their love was, however, eventually sundered due to him choosing to sail and she not.

(They had a real Nimrodel/Amroth-thing going on, the woman not being too keen on the man’s people as a whole, but recognising the goodness in that one particular man despite it all.)

As for stories... oh boy. I’m going to try to keep this as short as I can given how long this already is, but... Lithmael’s yearns to be in the annals of Middle-earth’s history as one who has made the tools needed for say, the survivial of the Gondolindrim during the Fall of their city, or the armour and weaponry of both Thranduil and his people during the two harrowing battles fought during the Third Age by the Elves of the Woodland Realm. She reads and enjoys historical tomes, fascinated with the heroes in them and the makers of their arms who made their heroism possible in the first place. She wants that same recognition; to be admired in the same vein as someone like Celebrimbor, Fëanor, Eöl or other great smiths throughout the ages. For various reasons, this has not yet happened for her.

If you’ve made it this far: thank you! I really appreciate it! Next off is Elrandir and his relationship with both songs and stories. Elrandir was taught to use the flute by his mother all the way back when he was just an elfling, whereas his father tutored him in singing various aerlinn when the two would travel between Eglarest and Doriath. Elrandir has, from an early age, been restless even in song, and he is often found either humming or whistling to himself whenever it is too quiet for his liking. If anything, he loathes deafening silence and finds it dreary.

After his many journeys, he has come to prefer the music of the other free folk: the rowdy tavern songs of Hobbits, or Men’s jaunty hunting tunes - more “rustic” and “down-to-earth”-type of music compared to the lofty aerlinn of the Elves. Elrandir once surprised an aging Bilbo resting in Imladris with his own rendition with his flute of Bilbo’s own “The Road Goes Ever On”.

Neither Lithmael nor Elrandir are parents, albeit for different reasons. Elrandir has no desire whatsoever to have children of his own; he is far too immature for such a huge responsibility. He is however a great uncle to his nephew and spoils him rotten with stories, gifts and attention.