//thinking about fancasts since I never really have a concrete one, what do you guys think about jason isaacs? like, lucius malfoy? idk i feel bereft of a face to use in gifs/icons
lordofnargothrond started following you
"The biggest thing?" He paused, thinking, "Her hair is just so beautiful, you know? It’s like a curtain of spun gold or mantle of light and it just swishes and—"
"Also she has some stunning legs," he grinned.
finarfin at the beach-each to get a wave-ave
Findarato! I was young back then.
I don’t know atya, that’s not a very good excuse. I don’t know how ammë ever fell for you with such a poor show
Finda grinned and gave her a tight hug. “I can imagine it now — ‘Nerwen, you’ve got to learn to be ladylike!’”, he said solemnly, stressing her mother-name and trying not to laugh.
"Though to be honest, how she expects you to be the perfect lady when she named you man-maiden I shall never understand.”
Helpless, impotent anger, grief neither of them could battle, the cold flame of hate against one who was too far away to feel its bite… She could hear all these things in his voice, turning against himself because he couldn’t be powerless, he didn’t know how to be powerless… In this world of ice where the only thing you could do was walk on, nothing else, just one step after the other, one foot forward and then the other one, for ever and ever and ever, there was nothing but ice and snow you could direct your anger at. Even the people around them weren’t suitable aims for such outbursts - they all suffered the same, they had all frozen solid to the depths of their souls. For Findaráto, there was nobody else to hate on the ice than he himself.
But Amarië was feeling nauseous. And her thoughts kept drifting from her beloved to Elenwë, that sweet, wonderful woman, that wise, beautiful wife, that caring, unwavering mother…
"We’ll be warm in the end…" she muttered, still staring at the ice in front of her feet. "But ‘shouldn’t have’ and ‘wouldn’t have’ won’t warm us, Finda…" Suddenly a thought came to her, and she grinned, even though she was still shivering and miserable and the expression looked distorted on her face. "Spirit of Fire….They should use that when they tell this tale… The Spirit of Fire, committing the fate of his people to the flames, condemning them to a lifetime without warmth…" Suddenly she was sobbing - desperate, small sounds, as if she had suddenly been in pain. She pushed her gloved hand in front of her mouth to stifle the noises in that shook her body worse than her trembling. Her other hand grasped her beloved’s arm, fingers digging into his flesh as her whole body cramped with her sobs and started to tremble even worse then.
He felt her crumple into him and all Findaráto wanted to do was cry with her, to scream alone and scream together with his brethren as they slowly froze. Perhaps their screams would one day reach the Valar atop their blood-warmed pedestals, or to his cousins as they stood around the flames that with every lick at charred wood condemned his people further into oblivion.
Findaráto almost recoiled at the thought — thoughts of such blasphemy would have sickened the person he had once been, and yet he felt no regret for his dark thoughts, only a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. We are losing our sense of self out here on the ice. The chill of fears colder than any ice saps our strength and with it our honour. Will we even remember our quest, our values, once we reach the other side?
The irony in Amarië’s words would have stung were his wits not dulled and his mind numb. Perhaps, in another life, he would have laughed. As it was, he entwined her hands in his and pulled her close, her wracking sobs reverberating through his chest and straight to his heart. She was so much thinner now, as were they all, but he held her as if she were his anchor, a life buoy when waves crashed and winds howled. Remembering winters spent upon his grandfather’s shores filled his turbulent mind with a resolve the colour of the steel waters broiling leagues below their feet and an uncanny certainty that birdsong would fill his ears again before his doom fell.
"We will be warm far before the end, my love, I know it as I know you are here before me," he spoke softly, kissing the top of her head with a gentle sigh.
finarfin at the beach-each to get a wave-ave
//I won’t be on tonight because I have an essay to finish but y’all can have a belated munday pic if you want!
yes i cut of all my hair during my hiatus yes i am in the midst of an existential crisis shh
It was again the time when a feast was held and joy was painted on the face of every Elf of Tirion. Not any different could be said of Líriel. She found great delight in feasts for there she could dance and enjoy herself without a care in the world. Though this time the singer was nervous as well for her presence had been asked amongst other minstrels. It honoured her greatly to play there, yet it made her feel anxious as well. Not quite accustomed was Líriel with a public so large and thus she wished not to disappoint.
When the time for her to perform came, Líriel took a deep breath and took her place. "You have done this before! Your fingers are no strangers to the strings of the harp. You can do it this time too!" she said in her mind, trying to calm herself down. At a sign of a Vanya minstrel, the song began. Surprisingly, Líriel felt tension no more and let her fingers slip naturally. In a small smile was her mouth soon opened for the music was delightful and flawless. Finally, it was the time for her to sing. The sound of her voice was even more natural than the one of the harp. The song carried her away and for some moments, Líriel was in the hall no more.
She could walk on the mirror of the sky and admire the fair stars of Varda. She could spin among them, she could enjoy their light. Suddenly, her dreaming was ceased by the sound of clapping hands. Líriel smiled when the Vanya minstrel gave her a discreet nod. The listeners appeared to have found the song on their liking. Elenilin left the others with their instruments. She felt her throat was dry and therefore she went to take a drink.
Smiling broadly as the music ended, Findaráto clapped as enthusiastically as the rest of the guests. The music, as was always the case at functions such as these, had been exquisite, but the last song was one that would stay with him for a long while.
The song was unique in a way that Findaráto had not experienced for quite some time, and yet the melody felt familiar and welcoming. He wondered, with a vague curiosity, the name of the musician who had led the choir. He had not recognised her voice, though it was as sweet as any other.
He leaned back on a pillar by the expansive table of food and drink, sipping a goblet of wine as he watched the dancing and merry-making with a small smile. Catching the eye of a Noldor elleth by the drinks table, he made his way over to her.
"The music is lovely this eve, is it not?" he said, with a gesture at the band behind them.
finarfiniel replied to your post “//hey i think tumblr ate an ask because i had a notification but there…”
//did you get my meme symbols?
//nope! it must have been that
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okay i love love love the headcanon that elf ears are super sensitive almost like the ferengi from star trek so like “I enjoy, when kissing, for my partner to touch or massage my ears. They can be very sensitive, especially at the tips.”
a pencil sketch. I have a thing for Findarato since I was ten and my copy of Silmarillion has many drawings inside :)
Duel Sauron, die cruelly, leave a beautiful corpse.
//hey i think tumblr ate an ask because i had a notification but there was nothing there? if you sent a thing could you resend it please? ta x