Tumgik
#beor the old
nynevefromthelake · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
ones in a dream I met you
662 notes · View notes
cheesy-cryptid · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Finrod and Beor inspired by True Thomas by Charles Vess
2K notes · View notes
velvet4510 · 16 days
Text
Finrod/Bëor doesn’t seem to be a popular ship and I wonder why! It’s right there.
Finwë proves Elves can indeed love more than once, so this doesn’t mean Finrod doesn’t love Amarië too. But just look at the facts!
Finrod appears out of nowhere like a knight in shining armor to bless and teach and spend time with Bëor and his people.
Bëor leaves behind all his people to spend the rest of his days with Finrod.
Finrod discourages Aegnor and Andreth from being together - why would he do this?? Because it wasn’t just out of knowledge of different fates. It was out of personal experience. All he feels is agony that his beloved Bëor is gone and out of his reach forever and he doesn’t want his brother to go through the same thing.
He swears his oath to Barahir and gives him his ring not just because he saved his life but because Barahir is descended directly from Bëor and looks like him.
He helps Beren not just because of the oath, but to redeem himself for his mistake in discouraging Aegnor from enjoying the time he could’ve had with Andreth, however short. With no idea what Lúthien will ultimately do, he sees her and Beren’s love as another doomed and fleeting love, but he has experienced this himself, and finally realizes it is ultimately worth any price. So he lays down his life to ensure Beren will have the chance that he had but also took from his brother.
One of the most tragic love stories in the history of Arda is right there under our noses.
50 notes · View notes
morgancrystal · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Finrod/Beor
My entry for @tolkienrsb 2022. Elwin Fortuna (Ao3) will be posting the corresponding fic on September 9th.
161 notes · View notes
tanoraqui · 2 years
Text
Nobody did, in fact, ask me about the half-baked superhero au’s Very Specific, Time Travel-Inclusive Scenario Wherein Finrod and Beor Meet and become Mutually Beloved, but I’m gonna share it anyway bc I thought too much about it:
Finrod gets trapped in some sort of temporal prison that makes him physically manifest in a random woodland glade in like West Virginia from sunrise to sunset every summer solstice between approx the years 1900 and 1950. For Finrod, each day followed the next...mostly. The time in between was dreamlike and quick-moving, and he didn’t really age. But he was lonely. He was awake enough to feel trapped and bored and lonely.
Beor is a local boy raised on stories from his mother’s old home in Ireland, who recently became a father but still went out with friends enough to, one night, wander away from said friends while drunk in the woods, and wake up to what he logically assumed was one of the Fair Folk—on account of the beauty, the idle supernatural singing, and the inability to leave a circle of trees
It’s at least a decade before Finrod convinces Beor he isn’t a faerie lord. He might never actually do it; Beor just stops arguing. But Beor keeps coming back every midsummer, and other times too—for a few days on either side, songs might echo through like ghosts, though Finrod is nowhere to be seen.
Over the years a) they fall in love (“I’m engaged…but Amarië would want me to find solace and love…and we always joked about swinging…”) and b) Beor collects odds and ends of random tech things to help Finrod build a Doohickey to escape. Finrod isn’t the most technically savvy, but he saw what was used to lock him in here and he can jury-rig something to at least break the cage. He can only hope breaking it will drop him back out in his own time. In the process of this, they might figure out how to let Finrod leave the clearing, but he still snaps back and fades as the sun sets? Beor definitely also brings his wife and sons to meet his friend the totally-not-a-faerie-lord.
This fetch/building quest becomes more urgent as the alignment of celestial bodies shifted with time and Finrod manifests less strongly, most ghost-like. (Don’t worry, when they slept first together it was the peak of his physical materiality. Good times...) Soon he’ll miss his chance to get away...and whoever/whatever first trapped him (Sauron?) begins to notice what they’re doing, and sends orcs to stop them.
So suddenly in the year 2010 a random blond is falling out of thin air onto Barahir, bloodied and weeping, maybe with one last orc grappling to him and trying to kill him? Barahir shoves it off and helps kill it, and Finrod, still weeping, probably bleeding, thanks him and recognizes him, says he knew Barahir’s great-grandfather—
Barahir: The one who went into the woods to his “fairy circle” and disappeared one day??
Finrod: [cries harder because that’s confirmation that Beor did indeed hold off the orcs unto his last breath, giving Finrod the chance to escape back to his own time. Gives Barahir a ring and swears eternal friendship, any time you need a favor, etc etc. returns home, where he’s been missing for a year and everyone was VERY concerned]
BUT WAIT, PLOT TWIST! There’s still a little juice left in the time travel escape doohickey, or maybe Finrod asks Curufin for help repairing it enough for one quick temporal round trip…so he and Amarië go back together with ready Song (which he couldn’t do in full force in his prison) and, like, sawed-off shotguns and save Beor from the orcs. History says Beor disappeared that day…so they invite him to the future with them. He agrees, of course: he’s lived a good long life here, all his kids and grandkids will be ok, and really, it’s about time his faerie lord invited him Under Hill, instead of just taking advantage of Beor’s hospitality.
(Finrod: I’m not— never mind. I know you’re just messing with me at this point.)
(Beor: [is 90% messing with him but still isn’t entirely sure his first guess was wrong])
And the future has MODERN MEDICINE! So Beor was a spry 70yo in the early 1950s but now he’ll live to be 90+, Amarië, who is vanilla-human but has the superpower of “gleefully rolling with weird shit”, gets to spend many happy years giving introductions like, “This is my husband, Finrod,” [points at charming blond professional Hero] “and this is Finrod’s boyfriend, Beor.” [points at octogenarian, also charming]
42 notes · View notes
dalliansss · 8 months
Note
do you know how long i've been waiting for you to ask that question?
- PapayeGod
the largesse of the sea maiden.
They did not part in good terms. The last time they saw each other was about a week before Finrod left Ladros, taking half of the Arafinwean host with him, to venture somewhere south. As with the days of their relationship before Fëanor's exile, they had devolved into fighting; heated words and raging tempers. It still amazes Maedhros how much rage Finrod was capable of suppressing inside himself, and how he hides such a terrible emotion behind a mask of seemingly perpetual cheer and endless kindness. But rage, oh, rage, Finrod was capable of. Still is.
They quarreled, as they were wont to do. Finrod wanted to disregard the distance Maedhros has put between them ever since the Great Council of the Noldor in Mithrim, this invisible wedge between them. Finrod thought that he was simply taking his time recovering from his torment in Angband, and while this was part true, there was so much more Maedhros could not admit to him.
Morgoth's filth.
Unlike their petulant, younger years, they did not part with a very physical fight. There were words, words thrown like barbs, and both sported deeper unseen wounds from those than any physical blow they might have traded. Yet Maedhros did not apologize; and he pushed Finrod away, and away Finrod went.
The years crawled by. They saw each other again during the hunt, yet they did not speak nor acknowledge each other, and it had almost driven Maglor mad, this cold indifference between them. Then Finrod left. The next thing Maedhros knows, Finrod has discovered the Secondborn, and successfully negotiated their entry into Beleriand. He took an Adan home with him to Nargothrond, one named Balan, and Maedhros viewed the news with a distant, dull ache -- for he would not let himself feel anything beyond that, because he was the one who pushed Finrod away.
And an eyeblink for the Elves, and he hears naught more of Finrod, until of course, one autumn morning and the tower guard reports seeing his banner coming up from the south. Of course, the drawbridge of Himring is let down for him. Always, Maedhros will never truly refuse him welcome here, not when he might be in need, not when...
And so they find each other in his Lord's Chambers, both clad in furs, a bottle of mulled wine emptied between them. Finrod is sitting across from him, wrapped in white and silver furs, gold hair spilling unbound around him like a cascade of honey. Maedhros, by contrast, is in dark scarlet and black furs, his crimson hair in a ponytail.
Amid the flame they regard each other.
Then Finrod extends a bare, pretty foot, and sets it on his knee. Maedhros's gold-and-mithril hand instinctively cups over the foot. A log crackles in the flames.
"Why are you here, Ingoldo?" Maedhros asks. "Have you need of me, or Himring?" "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to ask that question?" Finrod returns. "Because I will always have need of you. Always. No matter how much you push me away, you will never be rid of me. It amazes me, your gall. Where do you get the strength for it, to sit there and act as if I mattered to you not?"
Maedhros lowers his silver-gray eyes onto the foot he's holding.
"I took a lover," Finrod continues. It is akin to stabbing Maedhros in the chest with a knife, and then twisting the blade. He imagines himself bleeding. But he welcomes this death, this punishment, because he deserves it. "Balan was his name. Bëor, in his posthumous honors. Edain love fiercely and passionately, but perhaps because they are instinctively aware they do not have much time remaining in Arda. But he gave to me all his best years."
"Did he make you happy?" Maedhros asks, and in his mind's eye he sees the blade burrowing deeper into his chest. The blood he imagines to ooze from his wound is black, not red.
"If you call it happiness. There were more quarrels than peace."
Maedhros begins to knead Finrod's well-formed ankle. Then up his shapely calf.
"He is dead now. Never to return. Do you know how they die, Nelyo? They wither, if they do not succumb to the mysterious vapors in the air that seems to kill them twice as fast if they catch it. They shrivel up like prunes...and their strength leaves them so fast. One moment he is riding out at the Faroth with me; the next, blind, wrinkled, shrunken, his mind too broken by old age he can no longer recognize me."
Still, Maedhros says nothing.
"But he isn't you. I loved Balan, but he is not you. He will never be you." "Why do you insist on rekindling this, Ingoldo? Why?"
The foot is pulled from his grasp. Finrod stands, gilded in the copper and orange glow of the flames, and he grips Maedhros by the jaw with his right hand. He digs his nails in, and Maedhros bleeds red. He digs deeper, and the pain ripples down Maedhros's spine, down his thighs, straight to his groin. He gasps.
"I told you. Nobody whom I love gets to hurt and leave me. You're stuck with me forever, Nelyo. If you think yourself drowning in filth, then I will drown with you. A strange thing, the heart. Give that single thing, all else follows."
The world disappears in gold when Finrod kisses him. The furs are discarded. The flames dwindle down into embers that fade into ash. Outside Himring, a blizzard begins to blow from the north, engulfing the world in white.
4 notes · View notes
titcrevette · 4 months
Text
Day 19 : Path, Balan, Trance
Balan had known from the start what would happen to him at some point. He had seen it for his grandfather and his father before him. By the time he found himself walking through fog as if in a trance, his only thought had been hoping his elf would not worry too much about him and would remain his outgoing, friendly self. 
Afterward, he would not remember much from the place beyond the gray fog. He remembered an incorporeal figure welcoming him, feeling paternal in a way he could not explain. He also remembered faces, from people he had never known, and names of peoples he would later learn are his descendants. But all of this felt more like a half forgotten dream. Then, the battle had come and he had had no more time to think about it. 
Now that all of this was over, thinking about what surely had been the afterlife was the last of his priorities. He was alive once again after all, and he had people to find, some he could reconnect with, some he wished to finally meet. That was why after making sure his House (that he was considered the founder of one of three big Houses had come as a surprise) was taken care of by his children and grandchildren and many-great-grandchildren, he had gone looking for the elven camp. 
It took him quite some time, but he finally managed to make his way to where the familiar crest he remembered from Nargothrond was proudly flying.It took much less time for him to find himself on the ground, pinned under a familiar weight and spitting blond hair. There, on the cold ground, listening to Nom’s incoherent rambling, hearing loyal Edrahil’s laugh, he realized he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He had come home, finally. 
2 notes · View notes
skywardstruck · 1 year
Text
unbreaking lullaby
Summary: Balan, in hopes of comforting Finrod and reminding him of the time they still have together, gifts him a lullaby passed down among his people. The memories of the Elves are unfading, Balan knows- as long as Finrod remembers, Balan will continue to live.
Rating: General Words: 335 Relationship: Finrod/Bëor
Ao3 link
I’ve always been attached to mortal/immortal ships and Finrod/Bëor is no exception. I really wanted to have Bëor give Finrod a gift to remember him by. Since Finrod is very much associated with music, I thought a lullaby would be perfect- it will never fade over time, as long as Finrod remembers it. I started writing this during a roleplay with @daegred-winsterhand​. In the roleplay, Finrod is in the forest of Lórien, singing the song and accompanying himself on the harp; Beleg, who has also lost a mortal lover of his own, hears Finrod's singing, and the two of them find comfort in each other. This was a challenging rhyming scheme but I'm glad I stuck to it and finished it!
(As a side note, my friend @jee-eun​ has coined the ship name Balanóm for Finrod/Bëor, and I am really hoping this catches on, so please consider spreading it!)
Poem is below the cut.
The moonlight glows for our repose. The world is harsh, the journey long. But as time slows, cast off your woes So you may sleep, I sing this song.
The trees they sway, as here we lay, The leaves, they fall upon the pond, You bid us stay, we lose our way Along the road to Nargothrond,
For I did swear, to join you there. More than the knowledge you impart; Your face so fair, your golden hair, And singing voice have won my heart.
I traveled west, and I was blest To hear your song 'neath starry sky. But now unrest lies in your chest, So I must sing this lullaby:
Across the creek, o’er mountain peak, ‘Round rolling hills and valleys wide, Through flatlands bleak, a light we seek The stars above serve as our guide.
The cricket cries, the black crow spies, And though the night air brings a chill, You would be wise to close your eyes, And let your worried heart be still.
Drift off to sleep, to dreams so deep Of mem’ries fond and futures bright, No blight shall creep to make you weep, In love you lie, this peaceful night.
May your dreams be the most carefree, May nightmares fade and shadows die, May darkness flee away from thee, May rest you find as here you lie.
For when you wake, the day shall break Our journey will begin anew, Your hand I take, to not forsake, The loyalty I have for you.
It is quite clear what you most fear, Our time together is too brief. But I am here right now, my dear, The hour has not yet come for grief.
The Powers' grace, we all must face, Though I do not have long to live, I find my place in your embrace With all the love I have to give.
So in this plea, across the sea, Across time's reach, this I will send: A memory, a melody For you, my love, my dearest friend.
24 notes · View notes
ettelenethelien · 16 days
Text
Something that really strikes me is how if you look at the lifespans of the First Age Edain that died naturally and that we have dates for, you end up with an average of 89*. Now, for comparison, the average life expectancy in the UK today is "just" 82. The implications are insane. You'd have thought their standard of life was medieval-like.
And it doesn't feel like an overlooked detail that makes little sense -- admittedly, Tolkien did describe Bëor dying at 93 as "at a very old age for men at that time" -- but it doesn't seem implausible for it to be otherwise. We don't have impossibly skilled and knowledgeable magical neighbours, so to say.
But insane? Yes.
***
(I excluded from my calculations two women who died young "from grief" -- and Beren, who, weirdly enough, died (his second death) at only 71. His inclusion would bring the average down to 87, however I think his circumstances are very specific, and it is implied that maybe prolonged proximity to a Silmaril isn't very good for mortals)
17 notes · View notes
arlenianchronicles · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Drawing these two again after what feels like forever! The concept here is that Finrod is in denial about Bëor dying (and it’d be an even bigger punch to the gut since Bëor is the first mortal friend that Finrod will see die) T_T
693 notes · View notes
alystraea · 1 year
Note
Hi! I just found your art on AO3 and it is SO dope—made my day! I particularly love your Finrod :)
Thank you! Finrod will always be my favorite Arafinwion and I don't think I'll ever stop trying to draw him better :)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
187 notes · View notes
nynevefromthelake · 23 days
Text
Tumblr media
Finished the lineart! They are also here
436 notes · View notes
dejahisashmom · 6 months
Text
Numbers Chapter 22
This chapter is about a prince (Balak) who summons Balaam. Prince Balak & his countrymen are trying to be shady. But God has Balaam’s back, y’all. This chapter also has a talking donkey. Yes, you read that right. A talking donkey, in the bible. And it’s not magic. Hope y’all enjoy! The Israelites traveled to the plains of Moab. They camped along the Jordan River across from Jericho. (We’ll be…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
maniculum · 30 days
Note
I'm doing a College class on Ancient Foods. My focus is on Honey like the different recipes and usages in Medieval era. I found like a couple recipes, a thing on religious relation ("Milk and Honey of Paradise") /Crusades, medicinal use, and possibly bees/beeswax because I was struggling to get something.
Y'all have any recommendations?
(I've brought Zoe in on this one; the following is a collaborative effort. Also I'm assuming you have access to your university library so you can get ahold of the cited material below quickly and for free.)
Can you include beverages? Honey is the main ingredient in mead, which should give you a lot to talk about. Susan Verberg is the premier researcher on medieval mead, and has some excellent works on both mead making and honey production. She has a website at https://medievalmeadandbeer.wordpress.com/ where you can find both her formal publications and her blog.
If you do want to talk about beverages, there were other medieval drinks that used honey. Some citations for you:
Breeze, Andrew. “What Was ‘Welsh Ale' in Anglo-Saxon England?” Neophilologus, vol. 88, no. 2, 2004, pp. 299–301.
Fell, Christine E. “Old English ‘Beor’." Leeds Studies in English, vol. 8, 1975, pp. 76-95.
You can also go into cultural symbolism; here are a couple on that:
Enright, Michael J. Lady with a Mead Cup: Ritual, Prophecy, and Lordship in the European Warband from La Tène to the Viking Age. Four Courts Press, 2013.
Rowland, Jenny. “OE Ealuscerwen/Meoduscerwen and the Concept of ‘Paying for Mead'." Leeds Studies in English, vol. 21, 1990, pp. 1-12.
Also you might want to look into the general concept of the "mead of poetry" from the Old Norse sources. You can find the origin story for that in the Prose Edda, I believe.
Definitely check out https://www.foodtimeline.org for recipes with honey during the period - they have more than you'd expect. There's also a few medieval cookbooks you can parse through. Here's an online one you can sort through that does a great job modernizing the translations: https://www.medievalcookery.com/etexts.html
As for honey itself -- there's actually quite a bit of research on that! Honey was quite a specialized trade, and most of the medieval world used it for sweetener, so there's a good amount of research.
A few leads:
honey as an alternative to sugar, which was expensive, imported, and could indicate class
honey grading: honey was graded based on location/provenance, type (lavender, orange blossom, etc.), and also by grade. However, their method of grading was very different to our modern one.
honey as a preservative, not just for flavor
Articles on this subject:
(DEFINITELY this one!!) Fava, Lluis Sales, et al. “Beekeeping in Late Medieval Europe: A Survey of Its Ecological Settings and Social Impacts.” Anales de La Universidad de Alicante. Historia Medieval, no. 22, 2021, pp. 275-96, https://doi.org/10.14198/medieval.19671.
Wallace-Hare, David, editor. New Approaches to the Archaeology of Beekeeping. Archaeopress, 2022. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv2b07txd.
Verberg, Susan. “Of Hony: A Collection of Mediaeval Brewing Recipes for Mead, Metheglin, Braggot, Hippocras &c. — Including how to Process Honey — from the 1600s and Earlier,” 2017. Academia.edu.
If you want to look more into the medicinal usage, Cockayne's Leechdoms, Wortcunning, & Starcraft collects all the medical & scientific texts of the Old English period. It's old enough to be public domain, so it's available on the Internet Archive and HathiTrust in searchable form, meaning you can just ctrl-F "honey" and see what comes up.
Let us know how it goes!
57 notes · View notes
lamemaster · 1 month
Text
Elves react to men's sleeping habits
Tumblr media
AN: Clearing out ages-old drafts.
Summary: Interviews return~
PSA: No elf or man was harmed during these interviews.
Tumblr media
Interviewer: So slangry...(reads from the notes) sleepy and angry. Care to elaborate?
Aegnor: (Still recovering from the last interview) Yep, first she would not go to sleep and then fervently insist that her annoyance at my mere breathing is justified (riled up hand gestures 🤌)
Andreth: (criminal offense side eye) No that is incorrect 🧐☝🏻
Interviewer: I do not think you get a sa-
Andreth: I can decide when I require sleep. Thank you very much (glares at the camera).
Aegnor: Come on darling the land of dreams awaits you (coaxing riled-up Edain)
Tumblr media
Finrod: We've had conversations. You see men sleep so wonderfully. Beor simply responds to everything. We've planned parties, dinners, vacations...
Interviewer, side-eyeing Beor:
Finrod: And Beor remembers everything perfectly alright. Isn't it sweet?
Beor sweating buckets while motioning the interviewer to stop.
Interviewer: That is...unu-
Beor, steering Finrod away from the studio: That is absolutely nothing unusual, my love. Men sleep with their eyes closed so they can listen better. See that is why I absolutely remember everything we plan.
Beor in fact did not recollect anything. Further reports reveal that the man in question is an avid fan of avoiding planning anything. The said elf and man had words after the interview.
Tumblr media
Idril: And then he just jerked awake. Earendil screeched loud enough to wake the entire city.
Tuor: It was just once! (exasperated)
Interviewer: What did you dream? (sipping tea)
Tuor: I fell...(looks away). I was falling...
Interviewer, picking up their notes: Falling from where?
Tuor: It was a normal dream until I was falling off Turgon's shoulders...But hey it is a great height! He's got nice shoulders tho (smiles awkwardly).
Turgon's shoulder rides continue to be Earendil exclusive. Much to entire Gondolin's dismay.
Tumblr media
Thranduil: It is beautiful.
Bard: Stop it! (Blushing madly). My snoring is not beautiful.
Interviewer, over the pda: 👁️👄👁️
Thranduil: It just proves how hard you work beloved (pinching Bard's cheeks). It's like purring but elevated.
Audience facepalms
Gushing continued for 5 hours after the studio closed.
Tumblr media
Interviewer: Turin, are you a big spoon or a little spoon?
Turin: (gritting his teeth) I'm a knife.
Interviewer:
Turin: (glares back)
Beleg, smiling blindingly: He's a little spoon 🤭
41 notes · View notes
thesummerestsolstice · 3 months
Text
Something that's been on my mind. I'm not sure if it's in the book, but in the Hobbit movies, Beorn says that he remembers when a "darker evil ruled these lands" and pretty much confirms he's talking about Sauron a few lines later. And even if that's a throwaway movie line, I'd like is to be canon because the implications are very funny. Because that implies that he's been around for at least like, 3000 years. I feel like we should be talking about this more. Do all skinchangers live that long or is it just Beorn? Was Beorn around for like, the Silmarillion?? Are skinchangers like a whole separate species or are they just humans, and if they're humans, are they born that way or does something happen to them??? If I, a normal human, could live 3000+ years and turn into a bear I'd be all over that shit. Also how are they brought up nowhere else in the Legendarium??? You'd think that someone would've noticed a sizeable group of extremely tall buff people who turn into bears. If they were around during the First Age Finrod absolutely would've befriended them is all I'm saying.
Then again, maybe he did, I've seen theories that the Beorians were skinchangers floating around before. Hell, Maybe Beorn is Beor and he just retired out of the historical narrative after a while. Sure gives a new meaning to them calling him "the Old."
24 notes · View notes