#silm fic

The Funeral

apologies @tolkiensiblingsweek i managed my time badly this week and had no hours to write anything substantial, so please accept my quick little dry brush sketch of elrond and elros. also please appreciate the grey in elros’ hair and beard. this is a house welcoming of DILFs.

Maedhros: "Atya, I cannot believe you made him a sword!"

Feanor: "That's what he said he wanted for his begetting day present!"

Maedhros: "You speak crab now?"

Feanor: "You thought I wouldn't learn?"

Feanor: "Besides, it isn't very sharp."

Maedhros: "WHY IS IT SHARP AT ALL?"

Maglor: *Tries his new sword out on a hardboiled egg still in its shell, cleanly cutting it in two*

Maglor: *Begins eating happily*

Feanor: "See? He can use it to cut up his own food now! Would you deprive your brother of something he is taking evident enjoyment in?"

Maedhros: *Eyes Maglor*

Maglor: *Picks up his sword in his larger claw and waves it cheerfully at him*

Maedhros: *Gives in with a sigh*

Maedhros: "Happy begetting day, little brother."

Thranduil and his wife Nelisteth by @mandhos

Can you see this? This art is so incredible, please check out the artist's other work! The lights in their hair, the clothing... and the colours are all so beautiful and magical. It's giving 🍃🌙✨️Enchanted Woodland Realm ✨️🌙🍃 and I love it so, so much 💕

Until Celebrían has to Sail and leave everything she's ever known behind. Her uncle awaits for her at the dock, and she lets herself be coddled by her grandparents and distant relatives. Nothing feels comforting, like home. And one day, Finrod brings her to a tower far north, where one of his friends live. "She will understand you, help you." he says, and Celebríand chooses to believe him.

Elwing is sharp mannered and gentle at the same time. She doesn't treat Celebrían like she's made of glass, immediately involves her in the daily life. In the morning, Elwing makes breakfast, and places a bowl of porridge with dried fish and nuts in front of Celebrían. It tastes strange and yet comforting and, for the first time since she Sailed, Celebrían feels home. "Elrond eats his porridge just like that." she says. "He doesn't know why but it comforts him."

Maglor Fëanorian.

Commissioned this awesome piece from @asinoeiv for my Melkor joins the fellowship au (here) isn't it just perfect?? It was a delight to commission from her, please check her page <3 For those who read the fic, let's play a game of spotting as many easter egg details as you can!! :3

It is out. I have at long last slain my white whale.

Chapter 33: After life - death, after death - life again

The Timeless Halls were nowhere located. Rather than a site, they were an outsideness. When Fëanáro, then, thither found himself, and for how the Eldarin soul was so vitally connected to Arda, he might have not known where he was but he knew with keen, irradicable precision where he was not: anywhere in creation.

Ñolofinwë and Fëanáro are dead.

In Beleriand, the world rearranges itself around their absence. Their kin, their realms, their ventures - all must go on. In Aman, tidings of both victory and death bring further tension to balances already frail.

And in the dread Halls of Mandos, where awaits durance and judgment, Fëanáro's soul argues a case not for himself, but something far larger. Who owns death? Who divinity? Who decrees the rules of healing? How is kindled the cruel miracle of life? And, ultimately, is it even worth it at all?