Welcome to the House of Finwë!

Maybe the reason Legolas always looks so perfect is elves don’t need to sweat to regulate body temperate. Maybe they just don’t sweat. Or it needs to be some seriously extreme physical strain.

Like I don’t see immortality working if elves are going to overheat as easily as humans do.

Then again maybe it’s an evolutionary trait of later elves born under the sun, and the later they’re born, the better the evolution (eg. Legolas’ is way better than Elrond’s because he was born 3rd Age.)

Which would be really funny to hold over the heads of these older ‘hardier’ elves. Like yes they’re harder to kill, but they also sweat worse than humans do. It’s only said hardiness which stops them very literally boiling to death, but it’s still an all round uncomfortable experience.

Because I don’t think the trees gave out heat? Unless it was a byproduct of the light, but I don’t think so.

…unless it’s a Laurelin specific thing because the sun and moon still come into existence and seem to work the same as ours.

Either way I imagine Valinor had some kind of thermostat keeping everything within a certain range. Then we get to Beleriand and sun and moon and everyone’s in for a surprise.

Fingolfin’s host included. They’ve seen the ice, sure. But they have no idea what deserts, or even hot summer days are like.

Even in Valinor it takes time to devise a new thermostat that accommodates for the new temp changes between day and night and all the stuff that comes with it.

Just cause I think this would be cute for the Finwëans (because large extended family yanno.) Bear with me, this needs a little context.

In my culture we don’t call older siblings by their names. More than respect, we do it as a form of endearment. For example, the oldest sister is ‘Apama’

Apa - Sister (affectionate)

Ma - short form of mother (also affectionate)

Another example is ‘Apajaan’, jaan as a generic term of endearment. Usually used for people you’re close to. This also applies to older cousins, especially first cousins who get the next closest endearments. Or if you only have brothers or only have sisters, they’d take the ones available.

Eg. I don’t have any sisters but I have an older female first cousin. I’d call her Apama.

Or maybe I don’t have any older brothers, so I call my male first cousin ‘Bhaijaan’ (Bhai = brother)

SO I think it would be super cute if our resident Aman born elves with their hundred names, also had these terms for their older siblings. It would probably only be used if there’s a significant age gap, so Mae and Mags would call each other by their names, Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin all use each other’s names.

All of Fingon’s younger siblings call him by an endearment. Argon also uses one for Turgon and Aredhel.

All of Finrod’s siblings call him by an endearment. Aegnor and Angrod call each other by names. Galadriel doesn’t because she wants to be Different TM but it comes out in moments of high emotion. Orodreth (because I like adding him even if it was one mistake in the official stuff) calls everyone but Galadriel by one.

Ambarussa use a big sister endearment for Aredhel, since she’s so often hanging Celegorm and they see her the most. And an older cousin term for Galadriel.

The Nolofinwëans and Arafinwëans use endearments for their respective older cousins, and those of similar ages, but only those still somewhat close to the Fëanorions use any for them once they leave for Formenos.

The exception is Maedhros and potentially Maglor (depending when he was born) as the first grandchildren with a larger age gap to the rest of the family. Everyone has to call them by some term, even if it’s just out of respect. Fingolfin and Finarfin ensured this out of love for the eldest kids.

Onto Finwë’s kids.

Fëanor is oldest so it doesn’t really matter. He doesn’t particularly care if the others call him by his name or anything else.

All of Findis’ younger siblings call her by an endearment.

Fingolfin and Lalwen are pretty close in age so they call each other by names mostly (we have some more generic equal terms too.) Fingolfin probably used something for Fëanor until pride took over both brothers.

Finarfin is the baby of the family and generally a ball of sunshine until they throw the crown at him. He calls everyone by something, including Fëanor because let’s face it. He’s probably old enough to be Finarfin’s dad by the time he’s born 😂

Now the interesting thing would be seeing how these relationships dissolve over time, and when they lose these terms of respect or endearment. When the younger members start calling their siblings or cousins by their names instead. Because I don’t think it would change just because of a new language.

Most of them start calling Maedhros by his name only after the first kinslaying and Helcaraxë. Some of them return to calling him by an honorific when they see what Morgoth did to him and he gives up the crown to keep peace.

They all stop calling the rest of the Fëanorions anything but their names though. The exceptions are Fingon (who only used one for Maglor other than Mae, and that was more out of general affection than because he was older) and Finrod.

Finrod has one for Celegorm as well (he is in fact a bit younger) which he uses until the Nargothrond situation because listen. I sincerely doubt Finrod would’ve just let Celegorm and Curufin in freely if he didn’t have a good relationship with them.

Turgon starts calling Fingon by name sometimes after losing Elenwë. He doesn’t know why, he shouldn’t be angry at his brother… but he doesn’t have anywhere else to take out his fury. Fingon’s heartbroken, but he understands.

No one calls Turgon anything but his name after his disappears. Ironically enough Turgon starts calling Maedhros and Fingon by theirs again once he moves away.

Depending on their mood, the twins do or don’t call Aredhel by hers. They don’t blame her exactly, but it hurts that she’s gone. Then again, it’s not like they don’t deserve it after the boats. The younger Arafinwëans are a little less forgiving.

All the younger Fëanorions and Nolofinwëans call Angrod by name after the ban on Quenya. Some of them do the same to Finrod.

Galadriel completely stops using any and all terms after deciding to stay in Doriath. Catching herself even in those high emotion situations where it would sometimes come out. No one’s really surprised but it does hurt her brothers and Nolofinwëan cousins. She regrets this in the Second and especially Third Ages, and exclusively uses endearments when talking about them to keep some connection to her lost family.

Meanwhile on a faraway shore, Finarfin alternates between cursing his brothers and sisters’ names, and crying alone under still unfamiliar moonlight, calling for them in every term of endearment he can think of. They never answer.

…I’m sorry, this got kinda angsty towards the end 😂

Feel free to ask if you have any questions!

In my head Eärendil looks kinda like Edward Kenway from Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag. I think he’d look cool with the beard.

A Meeting in Valinor

Elrond comes back from his first real meeting with Eärendil tired and unsure what to do. He gets some help from an unexpected source.

Dw this isn’t hating on any of Elrond’s parents. Pure fluff :)

Elrond had returned to his house and was lying with his head in Celebrian’s lap. He’d told her how the meeting had gone and flopped on the sofa, drained, before she’d soothed away some of his oncoming headache as she’d done many years before. Now he lay with his eyes closed, soaking in the summer rays as she read.

Celebrian jerked suddenly, and Elrond shot up, hand going to the knife in his boot. Some habits wouldn’t change.

“Ai! relax! It’s just me!”

Elrond’s face slackened.

“It cannot be...”

Celebrian looked between the two, eyes lingering on the semi-familiar features before her. Round ears. Beard. Warm grey eyes, wise yet playful. Elven cut, navy tunic with silver embroidery, and brown hair brushing his shoulders. She tensed at the closed expression on Elrond’s face, reaching for her own dagger as the figure shuffled nervously.

“Hello, Ada.”

Elrond released a strangled sound and the man ran to his open arms, desperately clutching the elf. Elrond pulled back, hand smoothing down unruly hair as if he’d done so many times before.

“Estel, how- You’re *dead.*”

Celebrian relaxed at the name, a gentle smile lighting her face as the human spluttered between tears. So this was her lost son.

Aragorn smiled tremulously as he replied.

“Exactly as you used to say Ada, Illuvatar’s mind is unknown in regards to the fate of men, and I guess I was allowed to come here.”

Elrond hugged him again.

“How’s Arwen?”

“She’s doing well, recently became good friends with Andreth.” A strange look came over Aragorn’s face and his foster father laughed, kissing his forehead. He turned to his wife, and it was then that Aragorn froze, seeing the elleth before him. He shot to his feet, bowing low before her.

“Milady, I-“

Celebrian shot the half-elf an exasperated look and grabbed one of the man’s hands, pulling him up. Aragorn looked at her, confused.

“Mil-“

“Call me ‘Milady’ again and I’ll toss you out the front door. Elrond said you used to call me Naneth.” Aragorn flushed, eyes on his boots and Celebrian laughed. “I take no insult, son of Elrond! It is only right considering you were not only adopted into the family, but also married my daughter.”

The Dunedan gaped, and she pulled him onto the sofa between herself and her husband, voice softening at the sorrow in Aragorn’s eyes.

“There is no need to feel guilty Estel, I long foresaw Arwen’s choice and understand she was loved and taken care of by the best of men.” She pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you for giving her happiness. She was so sad after the orcs, I feared she’d never smile again.”

Aragorn froze for a moment, then buried his head into her shoulder, apologies spilling out his mouth. Celebrian rested a hand on his head.

“None of that now, I’m glad Arwen was able to find her strength again, even if it led her down a different path.” She pulled back and squeezed his shoulders. “And I’m glad to meet *you.*”

Aragorn bowed his head then settled back against the sofa. A comfortable silence filled the space until Elrond spoke.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you, ion-nin, but why are you here?”

Aragorn turned to face the half elf, a mischievous glint in his eyes as Elrond raised an eyebrow.

“Well this should be interesting.”

“I had some... unfinished business to attend to.”

“Is that so?”

Aragorn sat on a chair in front of the elves, and both of them straightened. He winced at the expectant look on his foster father’s face, reminded of every scrap he’d been pulled out of in Rivendell, then later as a ranger.

“It may have had something to do with your earlier conversation.” The look didn’t change and he sighed in defeat. “Ok fine. It had everything to do with it. I had a conversation with Earendil. Interesting man. Surprisingly relaxed.”

Elrond smiled tiredly and Celebrian took his hand.

“Interesting indeed. He… wasn’t what I expected.”

Aragorn’s laugh echoed, loud and warm and *human* in a way Celebrian knew her husband missed dearly. So many of Elrond’s friends had been mortal, so much of his family.

“Now that’s an understatement!” The man smiled wide. “In any case, I had a quick conversation with him after you left. He says he’d love to take you sailing and have a proper heart to heart.” The smile dropped to something more somber, more gentle. “He also says he understands if you need more time, and will wait as long as he needs.”

Elrond seemed to simultaneously age and relax.

“If you’d take my advice…” Aragorn began hesitantly, waiting for Elrond’s warm nod before continuing, “I think you should take him up on the offer.“

Elrond gave real thought to the words and Celebrian wondered just how well this man judged characters that Elrond was willing to take another chance. Any elf would have been shut down by now. Had been in the past.

“I do not know if I can.”

A familiar stubborn glint entered Aragorn’s eye. A fearlessness Celebrian was delighted to see.

“I say this with respect Adar, but you have to stop running away from this.”

The half-elf startled at the sharp words, but Aragorn continued before he could fully recover. Smart kid.

“For your own sake, you must face him. Just as you must one day face Elwing, Maedhros and Maglor… but this is a good place to start.” He leaned forward to take his father’s tightly clenched hands. “What did you tell me when my heritage was revealed? When I was terrified the weight of my past might drown away my present?”

A suspicion began to form in Celebrian’s mind, threatening to break out in a bright laugh and smothering hug for the son she’d never met. Of course. Of course.

Elrond closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wryness and pride in his eyes when he looked up at Aragorn.

“The past is but a small part of you. You are so much more your history, no matter what anyone else says.”

“Wise advice, no?”

“Seems a little narcissistic to agree, but I suppose it is.”

Squeezing Aragorn’s hands back, Elrond sighed and slumped back, eyes closing for a long moment. Aragorn glanced at Celebrian, who returned a small, reassuring smile. It was about time someone smacked some sense into her husband’s head, and this one knew how to push all the right buttons.

“I am afraid, little one.” Elrond finally whispered.

Aragorn grinned boyishly, and Celebrian’s suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s why I’m here.”

Finrod and Maedhros in the halls or post embodiment talking about Sauron.

Not about the torture or the agony they went through, more like gossiping on how much of a peacock he was, strutting around and bragging about how beautiful he is.

If you came across them in the street you’d think they’re talking about one of those overdressed Tirion nobles, but then you hear “I preferred his torture to his speeches because dear Eru those were a whole new level of pain-“

“Heard all of two before being mauled. Definitely preferred the werewolf.”

Celebrimbor sometimes joins these sessions but he’s got the additional years of having known Annatar and it’s therapeutic to talk about how self absorbed he was to people who really understand. Safe to say Maedhros and Finrod sombrely commiserate the kid on dealing with that for centuries.

“How did you two become friends??”

“I think his vanity numbed my brain.”

“That’s fair.”

I need more dad Curvo content in my life. Like come on. He raised Celebrimbor. I fully believe Tyelpë is how he is in part because of his father.

Curufin saw the problems within himself and Fëanor - the immense pride and paranoia - and made sure his son grew up strong, yes, but also kind. Nurtured that gentle side because even if it was too late for him, it wasn’t too late for Tyelpë.

(That’s what pushed him to follow Fëanor, to rush out of Valinor and find a way to defeat Morgoth: Curufin needed to make a world where his son would be safe, and that inspired a passion and ruthlessness his brothers could never understand. They didn’t know what it was to see your child’s fear and be unable to do anything to reassure them. When the Trees went out Tyelpë screamed, clinging to his father and mother with a sound that would haunt Curufin until his death.)

Little Tyelpë whose heart was so good and open and trusting, it broke him to see some of that light dim in Beleriand. He tried to create areas for Celebrimbor’s inherent optimism and gentleness to flourish and grow, but in a world steadily growing more dangerous, it became increasingly difficult. Then the Bragollach happened.

Finrod wasn’t his favourite cousin, but he saw the opportunity for Tyelpë to recover and thrive. To live without his father and uncles’ bitterness hanging over his head, and he took it.

With it Curufin made sure his son wouldn’t fall to the vices that haunted his family, guiding him to assimilate into Finrod’s city and take his half-cousin as a role model no matter how he hated it. Celebrimbor wasn’t the revenge driven elf his uncles and grandfather were, and if Curvo had done this right, he never would be.

So whether he purposefully pushed Celebrimbor away from the family or not, I’m sure a part of him was so relieved and proud when he stood up, back straight, head held high, and said ‘no.’

Curufin could never draw the line when it came to his father. But he made sure Celebrimbor could.

And as far as he was concerned, he’d succeeded in far better than regaining a silmaril by the time he was killed.

Y’know when you’re tired and come across the wrong post at the wrong time and just. Pure rage. For no reason whatsoever.

I’m feeling rather bitter at Elwing rn (it was a very well written ficlet and I admire the writer, I’m just tired and unwell 😂) so you get a little fic of me getting that out. Content warning done.

Here we go!

Elrond and Elros can’t stand most depictions of their mother.

White feathered wings, plain white gown billowing in the sea breeze around her slight figure, two dark shapes reaching taloned hands for the brilliant gem around her neck. Desperate expression on a too round face with wide eyes looking towards her sons. It makes them sick.

Because Elwing wasn’t soft and innocent. Elwing wasn’t like that at all.

Sharp, angular features. Grey slivers for eyes more often clouded than not. White? Yes she wore white. But it was the white of a desert sun, the white of cold starlight, merciless and unfeeling as elves were dragged to the darkness.

And she’d loved her sons, yes, but it was the love of an ideal. Elwing was young and far from ready for the burdens of motherhood alongside ruling a city in her husband’s ever growing absences. And the gem-

Well. The less said about the silmaril, the better.

The Sindar more than others remain desperate for a symbol of innocence, a sign of their claim to the stolen jewel over the sons of it’s creator. So they present their winged princess bathed in holy light whilst the sons of Fëanor cower from it’s brilliant glow.

But Elrond and Elros remember how the stone sang when Maedhros and Maglor arrived, just as they remember their mother’s fury at its song.

You see, Elwing loved her sons. But she didn’t jump to save them.

Elrond and Elros saw the beginnings of regret, but they also remember her steadfast determination to keep what was never hers, cold starlight and unyielding sun meshing to cruel pride as she fell. It wasn’t holy light but white hot fire that clashed with the silmaril to send her screaming as the stone rejected her grasp, burning brighter than ever as she flew to her husband.

Elrond’s arrival to Valinor and the white scars radiating from Elwing’s hand to her chest confirm what he knew all along.

It wasn’t innocence that crowned her the day Sirion fell.

Because years before Maedhros and Maglor had fallen victim to the Silmaril’s hallowing, Elwing the White had paid the price for her false claim. And no matter how they tried to hide it, the consequences of that pride marked her to this day.

Fëanor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin loved all their nephews and nieces I take no argument. They showed it in different ways, but there were never any malicious thoughts towards them.

Any competition they had was between each other (though Finarfin was very much youngest sibling literally cba to deal with his older brothers.)

Fëanor: Always has too much food, used to his kids bringing over their respective favourite cousin for a meal because they were out playing too late and he’s not exactly going to send a child home hungry. As they got older it was because they’d been out and this was the closest place to disappear away to and crash. He’s used to seeing various kids sprawled across the carpet in the living room, waking up with headaches and groans. He’ll never admit it, but he finds it hilarious and enjoys seeing the children happy. If his brothers ask? ‘What do you mean they were out, I’ve had your children here with me all night.’

Fingolfin: One day I’ll stop linking this post but I really like how it turned out so you get to see it again! Fingolfin happily lets them traverse his house, go through his belongings. He’s very much a partner in crime, helping them sneak around, acting as lookout. Pretending not to see a majority of sweet pasties disappear overnight. He lives closest to the busy parts of the city, so it’s not unusual for the kids to get ready at his house if they’re going out anywhere or even preparing for Court. Most of the kids have their own shared room, and they’re full to the brim of everyone’s clothes, jewellery, shoes. Essentially a whole wardrobe. It gets messy, but he loves seeing his house full of life. Even if he could do without the mess Tyeko and Iressë bring in… and the various musicals at 3am. ‘You know we never tire of having you here… but perhaps you could tone down the partying? Just a little?’ He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Finarfin: My guy ofc has his house by the sea which like Fingolfin’s, has many many rooms full to the brim with clothes and jewellery. It’s essentially a home away from home for his niece and nephews, they don’t have to pack because everything’s already there. As youngest uncle and closest in age, he’ll just so happen to tell the kids where to have fun. He had the least pressure on him growing up and knows the best places in Tirion and Alqualondë. Going to Finarfin’s is like going on holiday, he’ll back them up and make sure they can do what they want without worrying about their reputations as princes and princesses. ‘The kids are far too stressed and don’t get to come here often, brothers. Let them have their fun. I’ll take care of them.’

Bonus!

Finwë: The mastermind. The accomplice. The alibi. He has a wild side to him born in Cuivienen and honed over the Great Journey. Court life is too stuffy even for him sometimes, let alone his grandchildren. He’s the one telling them all the wild things he got up to in his youth with a wink at the end subtly telling them how to do things their parents definitely would not approve of. High King Finwë would never! High King Finwë definitely would, and he’s making sure his grandkids get the experience too. He’s the one who gets the parents to leave for weeks at a time and his grandchildren have the time of their lives. ‘My sons, you worry too much! Don’t you trust your father?’

Finrod: Too curious for his own good

Fingon: Adrenaline junkie

Maedhros: Too tired for this.

So there’s a note in the Silm saying the Noldolantë was made ‘ere Maglor was lost’ which is why they know about it. So I think it’s safe to say he wrote and finished it before that final silmaril run.

I’m thinking he wrote it and before Elrond and Elros went to Gil Galad, they took a copy each. Maybe Maglor wrote it at their request. Maybe he sent it with them to make sure history wasn’t forgotten. Maybe they wrote it down as he sang in the empty rooms his little brothers once slept.

I think Elrond kept his copy close to his heart, hidden away for a time it would be safe to reveal. I think he would insert verses here and there in his own songs, until the entire thing was split over a hundred different pieces. I think he didn’t reveal it until he got to Rivendell, where he had several copies made.

I think Elros made his copy public, and it was well known across Numenor for many a year, until like many other things, it was lost in the Drowning. Possibly a little before when they wanted to distance themselves from the elves. I think it didn’t come back to Gondor and Arnor until Aragorn became king, a song he’d heard since childhood carefully transcribed in Elrond’s own hand.

With three verses added at the end.

One for Maedhros, lost to the fire.

One for Maglor, lost at sea.

And a final verse for Celebrimbor, caught in the Doom despite his kindness.

No wonder the Noldolantë didn’t make it into Pengolodh’s writings.

“Foolish child. Foolish, foolish child. What hubris of youth constrained you to swear as you did.” Maglor’s mutter turned to a harsh, echoing laugh, as his voice rose with the force of an ocean storm. With the fury of black waves. “Learn from our mistakes!” He cried. “Recall and learn! Let not arrogance and pride take you as it took us so long ago!”

Feel free to take this as a prompt! Please credit if you do :)

I went into this a little in this post, but here’s how I categorise our resident Curufinwës + what their strengths in war are.

Fëanor: The Scientist. Aggressive.

Curufin: The Architect. Defensive.

Celebrimbor: The Inventor. Protective.

Fëanor: The Scientist. The Silmarils were all about the science. How to hold light. What materials are needed. How to make it stronger etc etc. Feanarian lamps honesty give me lightbulbs on steroids vibes, very sciency. He created the alphabet and no doubt numerous other things. In general Fëanor is said to want mastery over things and minds. He wants to understand then use that knowledge. He’s experimenting with known variables and pushing them to their limits.

(If he lived) his strength would be aggressive weaponry and tactics, creative mind pushing for stronger, faster, more accurate but more destructive weapons. He brings people into a passionate rage to give them the strength to go on.

Curufin: The Architect/Pragmatist. in my head is all about building on things. He also has that spark but he makes unbreakabke battlements. Bridges. Weapons. Armour. Fortresses with so many nooks and secret passages and extra defences only his brothers can keep track. He’s crafty, he’s smart. He knows how to trick people into seeing one thing and it being something else. To create false chinks in armour and defence that will be targeted and hold up, and give his people a chance to fight back while the attacker thinks he’s won.

All this means he’s great at providing defensive structures. Give him a basic fortress and he’ll create all kinds of pathways to escape and areas great for attacks and ambushes. Fool enemies and give them the element of surprise. He holds the line.

Celebrimbor: The Inventor. The rings are so unlike anything we’ve ever seen, and unlike Fëanor’s Silmarils they have true power to them. They protect and shield and raise rivers and give longevity and hold life still for the elves unused to change and so much more. He creates his city as a place for students, has a whole sect in the Gwaith-i-mirdain who learned and experimented and would create new and wondrous things. Were canonically the best artisans since Fëanor himself, led by Celebrimbor. He created so much that there was no way to even think of replicating it after he and his people were killed, and the knowledge lost. This wasn’t science. This was something entirely new. And they never saw it again.

All this means he can create invisible barriers as protection so people can live well on the daily. Keeping people safe and well is his top priority.

But yeah this is why I hc that Maedhros’ prosthetic was the combined effort of Celebrimbor and Curufin. Tyelpë was still fairly young, but he had that creativity to know how to make a working hand buried with enchantments and the like. Curufin worked out the mechanics of it and made sure it would be functional for daily life and as a weapon.

Fëanor ofc is dead by now so he doesn’t get to do much, but you best believe he’d add all kinds of sleek weaponry so his eldest could protect himself.