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eilinelsghost · 3 months

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Finrod & the Edain

Commissioned from @bluebeardcrypt

Absolutely in love with this depiction of Finrod and Bëor! They stand on each side of the “gulf that divides [the] kindreds,” each reaching out of his own to meet in Light. Finrod standing amidst the stars of the Eldar, Bëor standing before the rising sun, “Vása, the Heart of Fire, that awakens and consumes; for the Sun was set as a sign for the awakening of Men and the waning of the Elves.”

I’m still in awe of how well @bluebeardcrypt rendered this from my rambling description 😂 Absolutely gorgeous.

(Quotes from the Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth and The Silmarillion, respectively.)

#finrod #bëor #Edain #the silmarillion #silmarillion art #commissioned piece

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nynevefromthelake · 3 months

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So Finrod and Balan(Bëor). I haven’t seen them as a romantic ship before but now I’m a bit obsessed. Like, this has so many layers and just beautiful

The painter’s honey moon by Frederic Leighton as reference because it’s just them.

I think I should tag @eilinelsghost you writing is so beautiful and inspiring

#silmarillion art #silmarillion #the silm #silm art #finrod #bëor #finrod/beor #tolkien #fanart

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cheesy-cryptid · 2 years

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Finrod and Beor inspired by True Thomas by Charles Vess

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serregon · 7 months

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Finrod/Bëor

#finrod #bëor #balanom

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anerea-lantiria · 7 months

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"We are the sum of the parts of the world"

The Edain creation myth in Atanatárissë by @eilinelsghost is so inspiring! Here's my rendering of the page she describes from Beor's book of lore, an heirloom handed down through the generations from second child to second child. Do yourself a favour and treat yourself to this fic!

In the beginning of time there was the Dark. Within the Dark dwelt Melishk, the goddess of earth. And within the Dark dwelt Guënid, the god of water. Long they danced in the time ere forms were bound, long they wound together in the shapeless mingling. Each pressed into each, seeking ever to lessen the substance wherein they lay separate from the other, until from their union was wrought clay, there amid the timeless spheres.

Thence from the clay of their unity were wrought six forms, limbed and visaged in the fashion of Men. Then Melishk said to Guënid, “Now let us call forth our sisters to aid us, now let us summon hence our brothers for succor. Let us make within the dark a habitation, that these figures we have shaped may be filled with our breath and live, that within them we might dwell forever as one. From earth and from water have they been ordered, from earth and from water have they been formed, and within them shall earth and water walk ever in the bond of unity.” Then Melishk set forth hills rising up from the soil, upon its face she smoothed valleys and fields. And Guënid swiftly did follow her there: to the heights where he rushed down in torrents; to the valleys in sluggish, wide calm; to the fields where his tendrils spread through her loam.

At that time Fon rose up from his slumber and fire came forth within the world. He passed over hill and field and vale, till he stood beside the gods of water and earth and looked on the work of their mingling. Heat he gave unto the six waiting figures before him and receiving such, their clay limbs eased into flesh. Then Luftu soared through the timeless spheres and with the wind of her presence she laid breath within them. Iuthap awakened too at the call of her sister and illuminated the bare world about them. She set her lips to the face of each figure and sight came into their eyes. Then she leapt laughing into the firmament to take up once more the gods’ dance in the sky. At the last, Satheweis arose from the silence and his singing followed Iuthap’s dance through the air. He brushed his lips across each waiting mouth and at once speech came forth from their tongues. Thus were our people born from the Darkness, our tale called up from the Silence. Remember its measure and call out its rhythm: We are the sum of the parts of the world. We are the meeting of earth and of water. We are the fire and light. Ours, the song of the Dark.

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statuesquueart · 2 years

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do candles pity moths? (or; andreth)

for day five of @finweanladiesweek : ladies who married in

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that-angry-noldo · 4 months

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Hmm for the blorbo doodles....I will be on brand and drop Finrod and Bëor into the suggestion box. Just some silly shenanigans these two dorks pls?

them!! frankie atandil twilight crossover when

#finrod #bëor #finrod/bëor #noldo draws #noldo answers

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searchingforserendipity25 · 10 months

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7 or 27 for the ship and numbers game. whichever you prefer. finrod/beor?

Hi nonnie! Thank you <3 It ended up being a bit of both prompts tbh!

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There was something wrong, apparently. Not quite right yet.

There had been something not quite right with all the other attempts, too. Bëor was starting to suspect the morning birds would have competition in their songs, if nothing was done to cease the racket.

The fairest of elves, sitting absorbed in glorious music at his side, and Bëor longed for his silence! His sons were right - he had become spoiled. There were indeed few things Bëor liked best than those times when Nóm sang, played, and made music beside him.

But honestly. Love was sweet, but so was sleep.

Bëor clutched the nearest pillow and briefly considered using it as ammunition. He could not bear to, in the end; but he was perhaps less obvious about hiding his face in it than he had been some hours ago.

It won him nothing. The music remained, notes following on one another like summer rain. Bëor came to the conclusion that severe measures had to be taken. He wrestled with the blankets, threw aside the pillow, and leaned down the side of the bier.

Nóm’s lashes brushed his cheeks when he lowered them. Bëor could feel it. He leant into the kiss, the first startled breath turning into a sweet sigh, grasping Bëor to steady him and press near.

His eyes shone brighter than starlight. Truly it was very unfair that he should be so beautiful at such a terrible hour.

‘I did not think it was so fine a tune as to deserve such a gift,’ Nóm said. ‘Not yet!’

'Nóm,' Bëor said, very patiently. 'Best beloved. Sweet lord. The music is very fine. Choose whichever chords you like best, and it shall remain lovely.

Nóm peered at him. The warmth of the room was in his cheeks, and the same flush that rose in them since the first time Bëor first interrupted them with a kiss - years ago. Another song; but the kisses mingled into one another joyfully even now.

'But?'

'But do not say Not yet again; for I am a Not yet away from going to sleep in the quiet of the caves. Tis very late.'

The surprise came first, and then the chagrin. Bëor could see it - how strange, that time should be as difficult a translation between them as any complicated dialect! Worse, in many ways. Nóm looked at his own hands on the string with some surprise, considered the ink smudging his papers and his fingers, and Bëor’s shape curled under the blankets.

It was very charming, the way a flush rose on his cheeks. Bëor could forgive a great deal of less pleasant noise, for that.

‘My apologies! I did not pay you the mind I should, dear one. Have I been keeping you from your rest? I do not wish to keep your spirits up when you do not wish it.’

‘You do not,” Bëor assured him. He rubbed a slow hand on his face, striving to be sensible in speech. He was slow, and warm, and really quite tired; and not interested in the repetition of the old conversation, interesting and vital as it was. ‘I wish it; but I would wish it much better tomorrow.’

Personally, Bëor found Nóm’s new composition too uplifting to be restful, and the process of its making too full of discordant sound, the sharp and overly bright music of the Eldar, that pierced the ear and seeped into the listening mind.

That he could not complain of. He had lost none of the awe and wonder, or the sweeping curiosity Nóm’s enchantments first arose in him. He was not immune to his singing; but it had become familiar to him, for all its strangeness, as dear and comforting as his wife’s burr had been, or his sons’ laughter.

He could not wish any cheer away from him, and so said nothing; but in his heart Nóm’s surprise stung, and the more for he knew it was nothing to do with intended harm, or blame.

They occupied the world quite differently. Bëor felt it more keenly with every winter that left its memory of frost in his hair and beard, every morning when the ungainly clucking of his limbs waking to their sockets drew sleep-muddled, alarmed glances from Nóm.

Gods. Only yesterday, it seemed, he had happily spent the night awake, in a bed of moss and ferns or smooth elvish linens and thick furs, long hours spreading thick and golden as honey. Bëor had been only Balan, then, and not even a young man; but still it felt the memory with a growing remove, dampened by age, and banal things, and the weariness.

Nóm felt it. It settled on his unmarked face like a shadow. Bëor had to kiss the creaseless line of his cheeks to retrieve him from it until Nóm smiled at him. A man could die worthily, for the strange and grateful curl of his mouth, the force of his mind moving from shadow to light.

'Come to bed with me,' Bëor said, as if he were the enchanter between them; and Nóm, blessedly, set aside the lyre on the stand and leant down beside him without further hesitation.

His body under the covers was startlingly warm as ever, long and willowy, swift to cleave to Bëor’s side. Their hair mingled together upon the pillows, gold and dark and silver. He called out a last word, a tuneful cantrip, and the flames in the hearth dipped to a languid darkness.

‘Dear Bëor,’ he whispered fondly. 'How patient you are. Will you truly listen to the song tomorrow? I wish to know if you think your people will like it.'

Bëor sighed. ‘I will. Hush.’

‘I am hushing! I only meant to say I love you dearly.’

Bëor pressed his smile against Nóm’s cheek. Nothing sweeter in the world than to sleep in the arms of his beloved. He kissed Nóm's brow, closed his eyes, and fell into a dream of summer rain singing with the rustling of many high trees.

#finrod #bëor #finrod/bëor #thank you!!#my fics

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warrioreowynofrohan · 11 months

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Silmarillion Daily has restarted!

This is a Substack series (mainly by @tolkien-feels, fantastic art - returning tomorrow! - by @maitarussa ) where we’re covering the events of the Silmarillion chronologically from the birth of Fëanor to the end of the First Age of the Sun. We’re currently midway through the First Age and are doing a few catch-up posts, after which we’ll return to our regular schedule of covering 2 years of the sun each day, through to the end of the series on September 14th.

Today’s post takes us through the years from 157 (the date of our previous post) to 314 of the First Age - which isn’t as big a post as you would think, since there are no recorded events from 157 to 260.

The big events are the (temporary) defeat of the dragon Glaurung by Fingon and the arrival of Men in Beleriand!

In a valley among the foothills of the mountains…[Finrod Felagund] saw lights in the evening, and far off he heard the sound of song…they sang because they were glad, and believed they had escaped from all perils and come at last to a land without fear. Long Felagund watched them, and love for them stirred in his heart; but he remained hidden in the trees until they had all fallen asleep. Then he went among the sleeping people, and sat beside their dying fire where none kept watch; and he took up a rude harp which Bëor had laid aside, and he played music upon it such as the ears of Men had not heard. Now men awoke and listened to Felagund as he harped and sang, and each thought that he was in some fair dream until he saw that his fellows were awake also beside him; but they did not speak or stir while Felagund still played, because of the beauty of the music and the wonder of the song.

Family trees for the Edain will be appearing starting tomorrow!

#tolkien #the silmarillion #silmarillion daily #finrod #fingon #bëor #edain

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verecunda · 2 years

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I think we need to give Bëor the Old credit for being apparently the most easygoing person who ever lived. Because quite frankly, if some Elf woke me up in the middle of the night by sneaking into my campsite, stealing my harp, then proceeding to sing at full volume until he got us all up, I would not befriend him, I would punch him in the face.

#The Silmarillion #Bëor #Finrod #I want my bed right now #I don't know if you can tell #XD

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istar-ingolmo · 1 year

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Silmarillion Primer: The Edain

The Edain (Ee-day-in) are men who came west over the Ered Luin (Blue Mountains) and fought with the elves against Morgoth. Although the name Edain is a Sindarin word that simply means Men, it is usually only used in reference to the noble people of the House of Bëor, the House of Haleth and the House of Hador and their descendants.

Art by Heget

The House of Bëor

The first group of Men to come west over the mountains of Ered Luin, were of the House of Bëor. Bëor, known as Balan to his people, came west in search of the High Elves or the Valar, for his people had heard rumors of them in the east. Finrod Felagund was the first elf to encounter them as they camped in the region of Ossiriand just west of the Ered Luin. There was a language barrier between the two, but they could eventually understand one another since their language was based on the old elvish of the elves in the east.

Finrod moves The House of Bëor out of Ossiriand and into the land of Estolad in the realm of Amrod and Amras of the Sons of Fëanor. Bëor became a vassal of Finrod and went to live with him in Nargothrond. The descendants of Bëor would ever be friends with the House of Finarfin, Finrod’s father.

Bëor’s fourth great grandson, Barahir, would save Finrod at the Dagor Bragollach. For which, Finrod gave him what would be known as the Ring of Barahir, a token of their eternal friendship. That ring would be passed down to his son Beren Erchamion,and then through the generations from father to son until the end of the Third Age. When it would come to King Aragorn II Elessar of the Reunited Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor.

Notable Members of The House of Bëor:

Beren Erchamion- The Son of Barahir, he would travel into the Guarded Realm of Doriath and fall in love with Luthien, the daughter of Thingol and Melian, its rulers. He would brave the dungeons of Angband with Luthien to claim a Silmaril. His son would become the Ruler of Doriath, and the Father of Elwing, Eäredil’s wife and the grandfather of Elrond and Elros.

Morwen- 1st Cousin Once Removed of Beren (His Cousin’s Child), she married Hurín of the House of Hador. Bore him three children: Turín Turambar, Lalaith, and Niënor.

Rían- 1st Cousin Once Removed of Beren and Cousin to Morwen. She married Huor of the House of Hador, the brother of Hurín. They had one child: Tuor.

Through the marriage of Elwing to Eärendil, the two Houses of Bëor and Hador would produce the Kings and Queens of Númenor. The Númenoreans known as The Faithful would be primarily descended from the House of Bëor, and by extension the Dunédain of the North.

Art by Heget

The House of Hador

The third house of the Edain to migrate west of Ered Luin. They were initially called the House of Marach, after their patriarch. When they were given the lands of Dor-lomín as a fief under Hador Lórindel, the name of the House became The House of Hador. They were the largest of the three Houses of the Edain. They would intermarry with the House of Bëor and together these two house would make up the majority of the Men of Númenor.

Notable Members of the House of Hador:

Hurín Thalion- He was a great hero of men and a great friend to Turgon, High King of the Noldor and ruler of Gondolin. He and his brother, Huor, were brought to the city by the eagles of Manwë, which began that friendship. He would marry Morwen of the House of Bëor and have three children. One of which was Turín Turambar, who would also be a great hero of men. However, Hurín was captured at the Nirnaeth Arnoediad (Battle of Unnumbered Tears) and refused to tell Morgoth where Gondolin could be found. He was cursed by Morgoth to watch all the evil that befell his children. When he was finally released, he unknowingly led Morgoth to the general direction of Gondolin. Thus, preparing the way for Gondolin’s ultimate destruction.

Huor- brother of Hurín and of the House of Hador. He married Rían of the House of Bëor. They had one child, Tuor. He was friends with Turgon of Gondolin. At the Nirnaeth Arnoediad he and his brother bought Turgon’s army time to flee by holding the Fen of Serech. He would fall in that battle. He never met his son.

Turín Turambar- The only son of Hurín and the heir to the Lordship of Dor-Lomín of the House of Hador. He would go on to do great deeds, but the wrath of Morgoth followed him always, causing all he did to go astray. He would eventually kill Glaurung the dragon, but he would take his own life shortly afterward when he learned that last bit of evil the dragon had done to him.

Tuor- The only son of Huor. He grew up with Sindar elves in Mithrim before being driven by fate to seek for the hidden city of Gondolin that his father and uncle once visited. His errand was to advise the High King of the Noldor, Turgon, to abandon the city while there was still time. Turgon heeded it not, but he did give Tuor the hand of his daughter, Idril, in marriage. They became the second union of Elf Maid to Mortal Man. He had one child, Eärendil.

Eärendil- The Great Mariner. His family managed to escape the destruction of Gondolin and make it to the sea near the Mouths of the Sirion. There he married Elwing, who was a refugee of the destruction of Doriath at the hands of the Sons of Fëanor. They had twin sons, Elros and Elrond. He took the Silmaril that Elwing had inherited from her great grandfather, Thingol, and asked the Valar to save Elves and Men from the forces of Morgoth. He then became The Evening Star, wearing the Silmaril on his brow as his ship sailed the skies.

Art by Heget

The House of Haleth

The reclusive house of the daughter of Halad. There is not much to tell of them. When they came west of the Ered Luin, they refused to live in Estolad with the Houses of Bëor and Hador. They lived apart from them in the further north.

However, they were surprised by orcs and much of their people were destroyed. They removed to the forests of Brethil in the realm of Doriath and did not participate much in the wars of The First Age. They were, however, not friends of Morgoth.

Hurín would, in his grief over the loss of his family, cause the destruction of the House of Haleth, for blamed them in part for the ruin of his son. He would lead the remnants of the House of Haleth to the ruins of Nargothrond, where he would abandon them. Few members of the House of Haleth survived the end of the First Age to become a part of the Númenoreans.

The most relevant member of The House of Haleth, was the Daughter of Halmir, Hareth. She married Galdor of the House of Hador, and was the mother of Hurín and Huor.

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eilinelsghost · 3 months

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A sentence prompt for you (I love seeing what everyone is doing with these):

"It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was certainly the most embarrassing."

Character(s) of your choice. Thank you! :)

It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was certainly the most embarrassing. And Bëor, damn his impudence, stood smiling at his side with all the innocence of a babe—as though overlooking an h was a perfectly harmless consequence of his accent. But Finrod had heard him say hîr nin[1] with perfect diction a thousand times before; and besides, he knew better than any the surprising extent of Balan's vocabulary.

Perhaps his accent had grown more pronounced these past months, for in Estolad had he not praised the king's fine ass rather than his skill with an axe[2]? And on their last journey too he had tried to mention the warm welcome that awaited their return, but instead had spoken fondly of...well it did not help the present embarrassment to recall that particular mispronunciation.[3]

Finrod summoned what he hoped was a dismissive laugh, but felt his cheeks burning nonetheless as his sister turned her gaze upon him, amused, and lifted her brows in query.

[1] hîr nin: my lord; îr nin: my (sexual) desire [2] hast: axe-stroke; hach: buttocks [3] maedol: welcome; matthō: to stroke, feel handle

My sincere apologies for how silly this became. Thanks so much for the prompt! These have been surprisingly fun to work on.

#they can be a little silly. as a treat #finrod #bëor #my fic #asks and answers #prompts

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nynevefromthelake · 2 months

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ones in a dream I met you

#silmarilllion #silm #tolkien #tolkien fanart #silm art #silmarillion fanart #lotr #elves #finrod #finrod felagund #beor the old #edain #finrod/bëor

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melestasflight · 9 months

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Naming my cat Finrod was honestly one of my best life decisions. Mainly because it leads to quite peculiar statements on a daily basis:

Finrod is hiding in the closet again. I spent two hours cuddling with Finrod instead of doing work. No regrets. Finrod is shy at first, but just let him observe you for a while, he’ll come on his own, and then you’ll never be rid of him. Finrod Felagund, Lord of Nargothrond, stop chewing that plant! me: I've given Finrod 3 different types of food today, and he licks each one a little, walks away, and looks at me like he's starving to death. friend: You should just let him be. me: I can't. I have a compulsion to please him. Appalled, after finding a bloodied pile of fur on my porch: Omg, Fin, what is this?! Baby, thank you for the gift, but… he slow-blinks, rubs himself against my leg, and there’s nothing I can do about it

#finrod #finrod felagund #cat #cats of arda #silmarillion #his brother Bëor is a story of his own

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spruceneedles · 4 months

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House of Bëor: Andreth and Beril

#spruceart #myart #tolkien fanart #silm art #silmarillion #edain #andreth saelind #tolkien #bëorians #house of bëor #i didn’t have room to put bregor in the drawing #my doodles #my drawings #tolkien stuff #drawing #beril

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anerea-lantiria · 8 months

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You know how sometimes you want to write a fic just because it's the fic you'd really like to read but nobody's written it yet, and yet you also know you wouldn't be able to write it to your satisfaction? Well, without knowing this, Frankie picked my TRSB art and wrote that fic. Only way way WAAAY better than I could ever have hoped for, and with soooo much more marvellous worldbuiling than I could have ever dreamed of!! I'm simultaneously blown away and soooo happy, and extremely honoured and simply fucking delighted!

*anérea does yet another happy dance* Here, have another snippet from Atanatárissë by @eilinelsghost, this time in the wake of the Sudden Flame:

Hiril drew the girl in against her, stroking the hair back from her forehead as her mother would have done. Rían still held the little holly sprig clenched in one hand and was tracing the leaves with the fingers of the other as her tears gradually eased. There had been a border of holly drawn about the pages of this story, Hiril recalled, its tendrils wrapping around the writing so that it encircled the tale within its guard. Outside the holly lay a menace of creatures, maws gaping and teeth reaching toward the twisting leaves.

#trsb23 #edain lore #artifacts #Anárion #Silmariën #Hiril #Rían #Andreth #Adanel #Belen #Bëor #Finrod #silmarillion fanfic #silmarillion art #anerea

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