Melian kept Elwe in Nan Emloth for decades or a few centuries. Here’s my take on what happened in the forest. No Hate!
First of all, Elu Thingol, after meeting Melian, had never been the same. Fey, one could say, a polite way to say he went mad. Standing under the boughs of tree in Nan Elmoth, gazing in Melian’s eye for centuries, Elwë saw things that no elf should have seen. Nay, not only shown. She pulled his Fëa beside her in those memories, as if he was there himself, not seeing a memory, and Elwë felt. He felt Melian’s making, saw Eru Iluvatar. Listened to the Music of The Beginning, so transcendent and unspeakable, his heart caving and his spirit trembling at the majesty of it.
He traveled past the halls of The One, through the vast galaxies, Melian urging him forward. He saw the Arda, from the heights unimaginable, its barrenness and saw it flourishing, one by one, things came to existence. Melian took his hand and they danced across the world in her memories, over the lakes, and among the clouds. He sat by her side, as Melian sang songbirds- nightingales, cuckoo, warblers, wrens- and trees with emerald leaves and silver veins into existence. Felt her love for these creations and, helpless, he loved them too.
He saw the making of the two trees and their first light that brightened this world, his heart tremble at the sight of Melkor, his soul shuddering at the first marring of their world. The elation and awe as the Valars warred Melkor, He trembled with Arda at the arrival of Tulkas. He accompanied Melian in the peace that followed afterward, nourishing the world for The One’s children.
And Melian. Euphoric. She did not stop there. She showed him more. Showed him the fabric of The Music draped over the world, the whirlwind of the future, and more. (He could not take it. His mind tearing at the edges. His sanity was tattered. Melian- distraught, confused, scared- would try to mend it and succeed for the most part. It wasn’t your fault. You did not know, he would console her later. But Melian would remember it and would not make this mistake again. Not with their daughter. Not with Galadriel. There is no Elf, besides Elwe, to see the snippets of the world before their awakening.)
For the rest of his lives, he would see the vast stretch of galaxies behind his eyes, the fabric of music surrounding them, the future- a mess of images, barely coherent- and more. Just at the edge of his mind. Madness lurking behind a thin curtain, creeping softly.
The songbirds love him. Loved him as much as they revered Melian. Whenever he went into gardens, those little birds would surround him, seeking his attention and talking to him about everything. The reason why Elwë seems to know everything that went in Doriath.
The trees had always been more of a friend with these Dark Elves than their brethren in Undying Lands. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but the branches of trees and plants would curve toward Elu whenever he stood near them. The flowers would bloom in his presence. Seeds erupting and flowere unfurling at the touch of his fingertips. (Once, Elwë slept upon a tree, and its limbs snaked around him. embracing him. Branches entwined with his braids, and flowers made a garland across his neck and hands. Mablung was the one to find him. Awed and chilled at the sight of Elwé wrapped among branches and vines, embraced as lover .)
The elves of undying lands carried the light of trees in their eyes. Bright and starlit. But the light poured out of Elwe’s skin. His hair glimmerd and his skin shined with silver. When Elwe felt heightened emotions, his voice condensed, smoke like, past his lips. Vanishing after a moment.
Few are there who could boast to be Ainu-touched. For their touch leaves everlasting marks. Strands of Ingwe’s hair had split into hundred short threads, like a feather. Fire leapt in Mahtan’s eyes, Arafinwe with crystals dotting his face, Celegorm’s fingers tapered into pointed claws. Ever-present glittering dust on Elwe’s hand and lips.
women of arda [4/?] → MÍRIEL ÞERINDË, QUEEN OF THE NOLDOR
Míriel was also called Serindë, because of her surpassing skill in weaving and needlework; for her hands were more skilled to fineness than any hands even among the Noldor. […] But in the bearing of her son Míriel was consumed in spirit and body, and after his birth she yearned for release from the labour of living.
[…] She went then to the gardens of Lórien and lay down to sleep… [and] her spirit passed in silence to the halls of Mandos. The maidens of Estë tended the body of Míriel, and it remained unwithered; but she did not return.
—J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, “Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor”
“[Fëanor] was the eldest of Finwe’s sons and the only child of his first wife Miriel. She was a Noldorin Elda of slender and graceful form, and of gentle disposition, though as was later discovered in matters far more grave, she could show an ultimate obstinacy that counsel or command would only make more obdurate. She had a beautiful voice and a delicate and clear enunciation, though she spoke swiftly and took pride in this skill. Her chief talent, however, was a marvellous dexterity of hand. This she employed in embroidery, which though achieved in what even the Eldar thought a speed of haste was finer and more intricate than any that had before been seen. She was therefore called Perinde (Needlewoman) - a name which she had indeed already been given as a ‘mother-name’.”
“Miriel was the name of his mother. Her hair was like silver; and she was slender as a white flower in the grass. Soft and sweet was her voice, and she sang as she worked, like rippling water, in music without words.”
Silver-haired Miriel has been slowly growing on me. It’s definitely not how I first imagined her, but I really, really like the idea that the hair colors thing was a little simplified and that there was a lot of intermarriage between the second and third hosts.
(Also I apparently cannot read anything about anyone ever singing without random Maglor feels. Of course Feanor would have encouraged his son’s talent - maybe he remembers, or likes to think he remembers, the sound of her voice…)
Performance in Tirion. This is a commission for @samarqqand, who wanted to see a “younger pre-Darkening Valinor Maglor when he’s a diva looking concert-ready and pretty.”
House of Finwë Chibi family trees! These are mostly for my own reference/color-picking with my updated designs, but I figured I might as well share. There’s a lot of my headcanons and ocs mixed in with the canons here.
I might make sticker sheets for some of them to sell on Red/bubble if people are interested. Let me know in a comment which if any you’d like.
More of my headcanon about Maglor (these are totally stuff based on my taste so don’t take it too seriously)
I interpret Maglor as quite cold despite his pacifist attitude. Maedhros has more of natural charisma; you see that when he wins over diverse allies and organizes forces. But our favorite redhead also makes what can be interpreted as pretty rash decisions like actually going to see Melkor. He also engages in a lot of self-destructive behavior like when he decides to go after the Silmarils in the end. On the other hand, you never see Maglor act out of a passion of the moment. Even when poor Maedhros had been taken captive, he doesn’t just jump out. I like to interpret this as Maglor making more strategic—albeit a little cold—move by choosing to keep remaining brothers/allies alive (at this point, Feanor has been killed and Maedhros taken, so they’ve lost two of their own in a short time). Maedhros expresses and is influenced by his emotions, which is what makes him sometimes act recklessly—kind of like his dad—but also what draws others to him. But the boy also breaks like cookies when things get overwhelming. Maglor, in contrast, acts more even-headed but suppresses his emotions, which is probably why he’s so weary by the end of the First Age. Nevertheless, he’s much more resilient than his older brother. If for overall good, he can stand humiliation while Maedhros can’t.
Another headcanon is that after Thangorondrim, Maglor finds it difficult to say no to Maedhros—whether it’s a song request or some military campaign idea—because he feels guilty for not rescuing his brother himself. He doesn’t act like he’s bothered in front of Maedhros, but he really can’t say no. Maedhros is unaware that Maglor still feels guilty though. He’s just happy his little brother is so nice to him.
Our little(?) minstrel is also a rather a frightening warrior. He’s the one who killed Uldor (this part is canon but my another headcanon is that as calm as Maglor is usually, he’ll take out those who hurt his brothers). Silma always mentions how Maglor is great singer and the reader can be misled in to thinking that this elf is a harmless fluffball of a musician, but we have to remember that in Tolkien’s world, music has a lot of power. Remember. Finrod had music battle with Sauron and Luthien worked her way through her adventure with songs. Generally, if a character is described as a great musician, the said character is also formidable, so it’s not a stretch to conclude that Maglor is pretty powerful (he’s also called Kanafinwe).
Basically, I like interpreting Maglor as wise like Nerdanel but also capable of Feanor’s ferocity. If anyone inherited an ounce of wisdom from Nerdanel, I say it’s Maglor. But then this makes Maglor scariest of them all because anyone who’s gotten a real bit of Nerdanel in them is scary.
*Oh I also just remembered that dear Nelyo also asked his father if they were going back to pick up Fingon. Yeah. He can be rather naive sometimes.
Between Galadriel’s family, Elrond’s family (overlapping), family of all those who traveled with them, and people curious to see the Ringbearing hobbits, the welcoming party on Avalonnë’s docks was not party so much as grand fête. So she noticed Celebrimbor’s curious first look at her, curiouser even than might be deserved, but she was too busy flying into her mother’s arms and then her father’s, and then Celebrian, brothers, cousins, introducing Elrond to everyone he hadn’t met, introducing Mithrandir to everyone he hadn’t met—or rather, introducing them to him, and letting him introduce Bilbo and Frodo as proudly as a mother hen…
it wasn’t until several hours later, when they moved collectively into Gil-galad’s mansion overlooking Tol Eressëa, acquiring friends in addition to family and becoming a fête in truth, that she managed to seize a private moment with her young cousin. A competition of bards had erupted; she seized the moment of no one paying attention to her to pull Celebrimbor behind a potted plant.
She clasped him by the hand, because even with all the hubbub, it still felt like a gift to see so many lost friends alive and well. He met her smile with his own, glanced down at the ring on her finger and smiled a little wider, as though receiving an unexpected gift.
“There!” said Galadriel. “Celebrimbor, why do you keep acting surprised to see Nenya on my hand? And Vilya on Elrond’s and Narya on Mithrandir’s, don’t think I haven’t noticed that too! It’s as though every time you lose sight of them, you forget where they are.”
“Ah.” Celebrimbor winced like he’d been caught out at something. “That’s because every time I lose sight of them, I forget where they are.”
underappreciated tragic irony of The Silmarillion: anydebate about who was Finwë’s heir was at best completely academic (and at worst a frankly awkwardly blatant fight about which son he liked best)…right up until it wasn’t.
You know how in the Grey Annals (…iirc) Bregolas and Barahir are sons of Beor rather than of Bregor? I’m going to go ahead and use that as an excuse to make them look uncannily like their distant ancestor, like… Luthien and Arwen levels of uncanny
For once, this isn’t even about Finrod emotions! It’s about the last formal leaders of the house looking like the first, like some sort of mildly upsetting foreshadowing
I’ve been considering Maedhros and Maglor’s final conversation before they attack the Valarin camp for the Silmarils. We’re not told why Maglor gives in to Maedhros; he gets the last word in that debate, but he doesn’t win it.
And I think what it comes down to is simple. Maglor wants to be done. He wants to surrender; he gives in to going after the Silmarils one last time; but he certainly doesn’t want the fate that he finally ends up in: wandering the world with no resolution.
But he’s not going to surrender unless they both do. Because if he turns himself in and then Maedhros attacks them alone, he will very obviously be under suspicion; that’s not going to look like sincere repentance to even the most trusting person. And he can’t bring himself to even consider turning himself in and telling them what Maedhros is going to attempt; that would be betraying his brother. So if Maedhros won’t be swayed, then Maglor will go along with him rather than either betraying him or chosing indefinite exile alone.
I don’t think Maglor is angry at Maedhros for talking him into it, after. He accepts that it was his own choice. But I think he can’t help but be angry at Maedhros for dying; for leaving him, when Maglor gave up his last chance in order to not leave his brother.
That is what the Falmari who survived the dark day would say. The scars of the memory would remain for some. It would not fester however, but create a well of feeling that extended the depths of empathy.
Outside the storm that was fed from the tears of the lady of the sea, sat Lindäiar in view of the glow that would soon be set ablaze. Silent in grief, and feeding tears to the sea.
┈⠀⌖ ༚ ‘ﾟ
What of those that dedicated themselves to the sea, who saw the labor of their hearts in flames? Who waded in the blood of their kin to repair their lives?
Just something I was considering when doing this. I really resonate a lot with the Falmari and I think people forget that Tolkien hated murder and the killing of kin. Yes the death of Finwe tragic but I think the Feanorian obsession makes people forget these innocent lives. These lives who loved the sea and had to rebuild. Who lost mother, fathers, children. It was meant to be a stain upon the Noldo (aside Glorfindel and Finrod) and I find it interesting how often so many victims are those forgotten in favor of the “might” of the aggressors.
Perhaps, my own Apache and Balkan traveler-Roma heritage allows me to see the viewpoints of the victims of genocide and helps me not forget. So I’ll continue to remember.
![dwimmerlaiks:Míriel Þerindë for Legendarium Ladies April | Silmedit Series“[Fëanor] was the eldest](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4764f60b787f5e016a6614b0a9804af6/tumblr_n41jc4MKtC1s42orjo3_500.jpg "dwimmerlaiks:Míriel Þerindë for Legendarium Ladies April | Silmedit Series“[Fëanor] was the eldest")
